author:Wentworth Dillon

“ In whom ripe judgement and Young fancy meet,
And force Poetic Rage to be discreet.
Who growes not nauseous whiles he strives to please:
But marks the Shelves in the Poetic Seas.
Who knows, and teaches what our Clime can bear
And makes the barren ground obey the labourers care.
Few cou'd conceive, none the great work cou'd do,
Tis a fresh province, and reserv'd for You. ”

“ Truth smoothly told, and pleasantly severe;
(So well is Art disguis'd, for Nature to appeare.)
Nor need those Rules, to give Translation light;
His own example is a flame so bright;
That he, who but arrives to copy well,
Unguided will advance; unknowing will excel. ”

“ Unfit to reach the heights that he has flown,
We wisely to our level bring him down.
Himself had writ less sweet, and less sublime
In any other tongue or other time.
And now, my Lord, on this account I grieve,
To think how different from your self you'l live. ”