His temples, last, with poppies * were o'erspread,

That nodding seemed to consecrate his head.
Just at that point of time, if fame not lie,
On his left hand twelve reverend owls did fly.
So Romulus, 'tis sung, by Tiber's brook, 130
Presage of sway from twice six vultures took.
The admiring throng loud acclamations make
And omens of his future empire take.
The sire then shook the honors of his head,
And from his brows damps of oblivion shed
Full on the filial dullness. Long he stood,
Repelling from his breast the raging god;
At length burst out in this prophetic mood:
"Heavens bless my son! from Ireland let him
reign

To far Barbadoes on the western main; 140
Of his dominion may no end be known
And greater than his father's be his throne;
Beyond 'Love's Kingdom' let him stretch his
pen!"

He paused, and all the people cried "Amen."
Then thus continued he: "My son, advance
Still in new impudence, new ignorance.
Success let others teach, learn thou from me
Pangs without birth and fruitless industry.
Let 'Virtuosos' in five years be writ,

To lard with wit thy hungry Epsom prose. And when false flowers of rhetoric thou wouldst cull,

Trust nature, do not labor to be dull;

9

11

170

But write thy best and top, 8 and in each line
Sir Formal's oratory will be thine.
Sir Formal, though unsought, attends thy quill
And does thy northern dedications fill. 10
Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame
By arrogating Jonson's hostile name;
Let father Flecknoe fire thy mind with praise
And uncle Ogleby 12 thy envy raise.
Thou art my blood, where Jonson has no part.
What share have we in nature or in art?
Where did his wit on learning fix a brand
And rail at arts he did not understand?
Where made he love in Prince Nicander's 13

And, in all changes, that way bends thy will.
Nor let thy mountain belly make pretense
Of likeness; thine's a tympany
16 of sense.
A tun of man 17 in thy large bulk is writ,

7 writer of the prologue to Shadwell's Epsom Wells 8 excel

a character in Shadwell's Virtuoso

10 Shadwell dedicated much of his work to the Duke of Newcastle.

11 i.e., by comparing him with Jonson, who was quite his contrary (See also 1. 193.)

12 an inferior poet

13 a character in Shadwell's Psyche

14 See note 16, p. 307.

15 See note 6.

10 dropsy

17 Cf. I Henry IV, II, iv, 493.

1 small barrel

6

1682

10

2 Shadwell was not Irish and insisted that he had never been in Ireland more than a few hours. Iambics were the standard verse-form of satire in classical poetry.

4 characters in Shadwell's plays

St. Cecilia, as patroness of music, is commonly represented in paintings with a harp or organ, and Dryden makes her the inventor of the latter. Public festivals in her honor were held annually in London at this period. Compare the following Ode, and also Pope's, p. 333.

a chord including all tones

Orpheus could lead the savage race, And trees unrooted left their place, Sequacious of the lyre;

8

But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher: When to her organ vocal breath was given, An angel heard, and straight appeared Mistaking earth for heaven.

40

50

The mighty master smiled to see
That love was in the next degree;
'Twas but a kindred-sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet, in Lydian 2 measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures,

War, he sung, is toil and trouble,
Honor but an empty bubble;

Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying;

If the world be worth thy winning, Think, oh, think it worth enjoying. Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

100

Behold how they toss their torches on high,
How they point to the Persian abodes
And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
The princes applaud with a furious joy;
And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to
destroy.

Thais led the way

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.

CHORUS

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to

destroy.

Thais led the way

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.

151

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft

desire.

At last divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;

The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store

Enlarged the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,

160

With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown

before.

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

3 the Eumenides, avenging spirits

We seek out new;

And follow fate, that does too fast pursue.

See, how on every bough the birds express,
In their sweet notes, their happiness.
They all enjoy, and nothing spare;
But on their mother nature lay their care.
Why then should man, the lord of all below,
Such troubles choose to know,

As none of all his subjects undergo?

Hark, hark, the waters-fall, fall, fall,

And with a murmuring sound

Dash, dash, upon the ground,

To gentle slumbers call.

SONG OF THAMESIS 2

Old father Ocean calls my tide,

Come away, come away;

8

16

1665

1 Homer, Vergil, Milton From the opera Albion and Albanius, 1685; Thamesis is the River God Thames, addressing Albanius, who represents the Duke of York (afterwards James II). The latter, in 1679, had been compelled to retire to Brussels, in temporary exile, until the excitement against the Roman Catholics, created by the "Popish plot," should die away. The flattery of James is evident; but the song has a haunting beauty which sets it apart from mere eulogy.

THE SECULAR MASQUE Enter JANUS. 3

JANUS

Chronos, Chronos, mend thy pace;
An hundred times the rolling sun
Around the radiant belt has run
In his revolving race.
Behold, behold, the goal in sight;
Spread thy fans, and wing thy flight.

3 anciently the highest divinity, who presided over the beginnings of things

the god of time; ruler of the world before Zeus