Page:Vida's Art of Poetry.djvu/98

Now, regal palaces, of wond'rous size,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
With brazen beams, on Parian columns rise,
That heave the pompous fabrick to the skies.
But other writers sprinkle here and there
These bolder beauties with a frugal care;
So vast a freedom is allow'd to none;
But suits the labours of the bard alone;
Who in the laws of verse himself restrains,
Ty'd up to time in voluntary chains.
Others, by no restraint or stop with-held,
May range the compass of a wider field;
The sacred poets, who their labours fill
With pleasing fictions, or with truths at will,
Their thoughts in bolder liberties express,
Which look more beauteous in a foreign dress.
To all, unusual colours they impart,
Nor blush, if e'er detected in their art.

^[1] Sometimes beyond the bounds of truth they fly,
And boldly lift their subject to the sky;

---

1. The Hyperbole.