Heady, not strong; o'erflowing, tho' not full.
Ah Dennis![R 1] Gildon ah! what ill-starr'd rage
Divides a friendship long confirm'd by age?
175 Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor,
But fool with fool is barb'rous civil war.
Embrace, embrace my sons! be foes no more![I 1]
Nor glad vile Poets with true Critics gore.
Remarks
- ↑ Ver. 173. Ah Dennis, &c.] The reader, who has seen thro' the course of these notes, what a constant attendance Mr. Dennis paid to our Author and all his works, may perhaps wonder he should
Mr. Welsted had, in his youth, rais'd so great expectations of his future genius, that there was a kind of struggle between the most eminent in the two Universities, which should have the honour of his education. To compound this, he (civilly) became a member of both, and after having pass'd some time at the one, he removed to the other. From thence he return'd to town, where he became the darling Expectation of all the polite Writers, whose encouragement he acknowledg'd in his occasional poems, in a manner that will make no small part of the Fame of his protectors. It also appears from his Works, that he was happy in the patronage of the most illustrious characters of the present age—Encourag'd by such a Combination in his favour, he–publish'd a book of poems, some in the Ovidian, some in the Horatian manner, in both which the most exquisite Judges pronounce he even rival'd his masters—His Love verses have rescued that way of writing from contempt—In his Translations, he has given us the very soul and spirit of his author. His Ode—his Epistle–his Verses—his Love tale—all, are the most perfect things in all poetry. Welsted of Himself, Char. of the Times, 8vo 1728. pag. 23, 24. It should not be forgot to his honour, that he received at one time the sum of 500 pounds for secret service, among the other excellent authors hired to write anonymously for the Ministry. See Report of the Secret Committee, &c. in 1742.
Imitations
- ↑ Ver. 177. Embrace, embrace my sons! be foes no more!] Virg. Æn. vi.———Ne tanta animis assuescite bella,
Neu patriae validas in viscera vertite vires:
Tuque prior, tu parce ——— sanguis meus!———
