2 The Seafons pafs away and return again, but Man, once dead, all rife no more! This Subject is elegantly treated by Mofchus, in his Idyllium on the Death of Bion: Αἱ ἄν, ταὶ μαλάχαι μέν ἐπαν καπα καπον ὅλωνται, &C. The tender Rofe, which feems in Winter dead, Revives in Spring, and lifts its dewy Head; But we, the Great, the Glorious, and the Wife, When once the Hand of Death has clos'd our Eyes, In Earth forgotten lie, and never more shall rife!

3 Tullus Hoftilius, the third King of the Romans. 4 Ancus Martius, the Grandfon of Numa. ceeded Tullus Hoftilius.

J. D.

}

He fuc

Since pious Eneas, rich Tullus, and valiant Ancus have fubmitted to Fate, why fhould meaner Mortals repine at the Summons of Death?'

This Argument is placed in a very strong Light by Lucretius:

Hoc etiam tibi tûte interdum dicere poffis:
Lumina fis oculis etiam bonus Ancu' reliquit.
Tu vero dubitabis, et indignabere obire,

Mortua quoi vita eft, propè, jam vivo, atque videnti ?
Qui fomno partem majorem conteris ævi,

Et vigilans fertis ; nec fomnia cernere ceffas?

Lib. iii. prope finem.

-When Thoughts of Death disturb thy Head,
Confider, Ancus, Great and Good, is dead.
And thou, doft thou difdain to yield thy Breath,
Whofe very Life is little more than Death?
More than one half by lazy Sleep poffeft,
And, when awake, thy Soul but nods at beft,
Day-dreams and fickly Thoughts revolving in thy

Breaft,

DRYDEN.

5 Even in the Time of Horace, the Romans offered Sacrifices, in the Forest of Ericia, to Diana and Hippolytus, who were fuppofed to have been raised from the Dead by Efculapius. But Horace, who was not overcredulous, ridicules thofe fuperftitious Rites.

DACIER.

6 Horace here follows the true Hiftory, and not the Fable: Thefeus and Pirithous went into Epirus, in order to caray away the Daughter of Adoneus, King of the

Mo

Molofians, but were difcovered, and prevented. Adoneus caufed Pirithous to be torn in Pieces by a Mastiff, and imprisoned Thefeus, who was afterwards delivered by Hercules. DACIER.

Mr. Dacier need not have given himself the Trouble to reconcile the Sentiments of Horace with Hiftory. The Truth of the Matter is, Horace, in this Ode, writes as an Epicurean; now, according to Epicurus, there could be no Resurrection; confequently, all the popular Opinions about Hippolytus, Thefeus, and others, who were fuppofed to have arifen from the Dead, are mere Fictions. SANADON.

Though Horace was, in Fact, an Epicurean, he occaGionally adopts the fabulous Theology. Sanadon feems to have overlooked this Line,

et de te fplendida Minos

Fecerit arbitria

D.

ODE VIII.

Infcribed to J. P. SHARD, Efq;
By Mr. DUNCOMBE, Sen.

CO

HOULD I Parrhafius' Works command,
Or those which own great Scopas' Hand,

(A Hero This, or God, display'd

In Marble; That with Light and Shade ;)
A Cauldron, curioufly imboft,

A Tripod, or a Bowl of Coft,
Rewards, which Grecian Leaders gave,
To crown the Merits of the Brave,
I gladly to my Friends would give,
Nor You the meaneft should receive..

But

But these rich Gifts my Power exceed,
And fuch You neither prize nor need.
You Verse admire; I Verfe can fend,
And of the Gift the Worth commend..
The Pillars in the Forum plac'd
At public Charge, with Titles grac❜d,
By which great Chiefs themselves furvive,
And after Death with Honour live;
And Hannibal, driv'n back with Shame,
Lefs widely spread that Hero's Fame,
Who gain'd from Afric's conquer'd Plains
His Name, than 3 Ennius' deathlefs Strains.
Unless the Muse your Worth record,
That Worth will meet no juft Reward.
Who would have known, if left unfung,
The Son of Mars, from Ilia fprung,
Had envious Silence hid from View
The Praise to Rome's great Founder due?
The Bards by Song and powerful Lays
Did + Eacus from Darknefs raise,
And confecrate, o'er happy Ifles
A God, where Spring eternal fmiles.
The Muse forbids the Man to die,
Who merits Immortality:

In Heaven she seats him; thus, with Jove
Alcides feafts in Realms above:

Thus Caftor and his Brother fave

The fhatter'd Veffel from the Wave;
And Bacchus, crown'd with Ivy, hears
Our ardent Vows, and speeds our Prayers!

NOTES.

NOTES.

1 Parrbafius, a famous Painter, born at Ephefus, Contemporary with Zeuxis. He lived about 400 Years before the Birth of our Saviour.

2 Scopas, an excellent Statuary. He lived about 430 Years before the fame Æra.

3 Ennius, an ancient Poet, of Rudiæ, a small Town in Calabria: He wrote Annals of the Roman Hiftory, in which he celebrated the great Exploits of Scipio Afri

canus.

4 Horace fays, that Poets are able to raise Men from the Grave, and to deify them; that Eacus enjoys an honourable Place in the Elyfian Fields, Hercules feafts with Jupiter, Caflor and Pollux preferve the tempeftbeaten Ships from the Fury of the Waves, and Bacchus fits in Heaven, by the Credit of their Writings. He hereby clearly difcovers what Thoughts Men of Senfe entertained at that Time of the vulgar Theology.

DACIER.

The SAME ODE Imitated.

By SOAME JENYNS, Efq;

To the Right Hon. PHILIP Lord Viscount Royston, now Earl of HARDWICKE.

D

ID but kind Fate to Me impart
Wealth equal to my generous Heart,

Some curious Gift to every Friend,

A Token of my Love, I'd fend;
But ftill the choiceft and the best
Should be confign'd to Friends at Wreft.

An

An Organ, which, if right I guess,
Would best please Lady Marchioness,
Should first be sent by my Command,
Worthy of her inspiring Hand:
To Lady Bell, of nicest Mold,
A Coral, fet in burnifh'd Gold:
To You, well knowing what you like,
Portraits by Lely or Vandyke,

A curious Bronze, or Bust antique.

But fince these Gifts exceed my Power,
And You (who need not wish for more,
Already bleft with all that's fine)

Are pleas'd with Verfe, though such as mine
As Poets us'd in ancient Times,

I'll make my Prefent all in Rhymes:

And, left you should forget their Worth,
Like them, I'll fet their Value forth.
Not monumental Brafs or Stones,

The Guardians of heroic Bones,

Not Victories won by Marlb'rough's Sword,,
Nor Titles, which thofe Deeds record,
Such Glories o'er the Dead diffuse,

As can the Labours of the Muse..
But if she should her Aid deny,
With You your Virtues all must die;
Nor Tongues unborn fhall ever say,
How wife, how good, was Lady Grey!
Nay, what would now have been the Doom
Of him, who built imperial Rome?

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