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Book III.
POETRY.
97

Void of all fear, of ev'ry doubt bereft,
I would not blush, but triumph in the theft.
Nor on the Antients for the whole rely,
The whole is more than all their works supply;
Some things your own invention must explore,
Some virgin images untouch'd before.

New terms no laws forbid us to induce,
To coin a word, and sanctify to use;
But yet admit no words into the song,
Unless they prove the stock from whence they sprung;
Point out their family; their kindred trace,
And set to view the series of their race;
But where you find your native tongue too poor,
Transport the riches of the Grecian store.
Inform the lump, and work it into Grace,
And with new life inspire th'unwieldy mass;
Till chang'd by discipline, the word puts on
A foreign nature, and forgets its own.
So Latium's language found a rich increase,
And grew and flourish'd from the wealth of Greece;

K
Till