2

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O DE I.

I.

1.

AUGHTER of Chaos and old Night,

DAUGH

Cimmerian Mufe, all hail!

That wrapt in never-twinkling gloom canft write, And fhadoweft meaning with thy dufky veil !

What Poet fings, and strikes the strings?

It was the mighty Theban fpoke.

He, from the ever-living Lyre,

With magic hand elicits fire.

Heard ye the din of modern Rhymers bray ?

I. 2.

The fhallow Fop, in antic veft,
Tir'd of the beaten road,

Proud to be fingularly dreft,

Changes, with ev'ry changing moon, the mode.

Say, fhall not then the Heav'n-born Mufes too
Variety pursue ?

Shall not applauding critics hail the vogue P
Whether the Muse the style of Cambria's fons,
Or the rude gabble of the Huns,

Or the broader dialect

Of Caledonia fhe affect,

Or stake, Hibernia, thy still ranker brogue?

On