THE DEDICATION. TO M R. VOLTAIRE. I. MY Mufe, a bird of passage, flies From frozen climes to milder skies; II. * To dive full deep in antient days, III. But where 's his dolphin? Know'ft thou, where? May that be found in Thee, Voltaire! Save thou from harm my plunge into the wave: How will thy name illustrious raise My finking fong! Mere mortal lays, So patroniz'd, are rescued from the grave. IV. "Tell * Annals of the Emperor Charles XII. Lewis XIV. IV. "Tell me, fay'ft thou, who courts my smile? "What stranger stray'd from yonder ifle !"— No ftranger, Sir! though born in foreign climes ; On Dorfet downs, when Milton's page, With Sin and Death, provok'd thy rage, Thy rage provok'd, whe footh'd with gentle rhymes ? V. Who kindly couch'd thy cenfure's eye, Sound judgment giving law to fancy strong? Nor could thy modesty do less, That Milton's blindness lay not in his fong? VI. But fuch debates long fince are flown; On airy pastimes, ere our brows were grey: To thee my patron I my debt, VII. The prefent, in oblivion caft, Full foon shall fleep, as fleeps the past ; Full foon the wide diftinction die between The frowns and favours of the great ; High-flush'd fuccefs, and pale defeat; The Gallic gaiety, and British spleen. VIII. Ye |