O DE, TO THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY. I. Moor-Park, Feb. 14, 1691. AS when the deluge first began to fall, That mountain, which was highest first of all, To bless the primitive failor's weary fight! And nigh to Heaven as is its name: So, after th' inundation of a war, When Learning's little houfhold did embark, With her world's fruitful fyftem, in her facred ark, At the firft ebb of noise and fears, Philofophy's exalted head appears; And the Dove-Mufe will now no longer stay, But plumes her filver wings, and flies away; And now a laurel wreath fhe brings from far, To crown the happy conqueror, To fhew the flood begins to ceafe, And brings the dear reward of victory and peace. II. The II. The cager Mufe took wing upon the waves' decline; When war her cloudy afpect juft withdrew, When the bright fun of peace began to fhine, And for a while in heavenly contemplation fat, On the high top of peaceful Ararat ; And pluck'd a laurel branch (for laurel was the first that grew, The first of plants after the thunder ftorm and rain) And made an humble chaplet for the King*. (Glad of the victory, yet frighten'd at the war) A peaceful and a flourishing shore : No fooner did the land On the delightful ftrand, Than ftraight the fees the country all around, Where fatal Neptune rul'd erewhile, Scatter'd with flowery vales, with fruitful gardens crown'd, And many a pleasant wood! As if the univerfal Nile Had rather water'd it than drown'd: It feems fome floating piece of paradise, Preferv'd by wonder from the flood, Long wandering through the deep, as we are told Fam'd Delos did of old; The Ode I writ to the King in Ireland. SWIFT. This cannot now be recovered. And And the transported Muse imagin'd it With many a heavenly fong Of nature and of art, of deep philofophy and love; While angels tune the voice, and God infpires the tongue. In vain the catches at the empty found, In vain purfues the mufick with her longing eye, And courts the wanton echoes as they fly. III. Pardon, ye great unknown, and far-exalted men, (Yet curiofity, they say, Is in her fex a crime needs no excufe) Has forc'd to grope her uncouth way, After a mighty light that leads her wandering eye. No wonder then the quits the narrow path of sense For a dear ramble through impertinence ; Impertinence! the fcurvy of mankind. And all we fools, who are the greater part of it, Though we be of two different factions ftill, Both the good-natur'd and the ill, Yet wherefoe'er you look, you'll always find We join, like flies and wafps, in buzzing about wit, In me, who am of the firft fect of these, Of Of admiration and of praise. And our good brethren of the furly fect, Muft e'en all herd us with their kindred fools: For though, poffefs'd of prefent vogue, they've made Railing, a rule of wit, and obloquy, a trade; IV. But cenfure's to be understood Th' authentic mark of the elect, The public ftamp Heaven fets on all that's great and good, Our shallow fearch and judgment to direct, Our wit and learning narrow as our trade We fondly ftay at home, in fear Forcing a wretched trade by beating down the fale, The The wits, I mean the atheists of the age, Who fain would rule the pulpit, as they do the stage; Wondrous refiners of philofophy, Of morals and divinity, By the new modifh fyftem of reducing all to fenfe, Do own th' effects of Providence, V. This hopeful fect, now it begins to fee Their firft and chiefeft force To cenfure, to cry down, and rail, Not knowing what, or where, or who Will quickly take another courfe: you And, by their never-failing ways Of folving all appearances they please, be, We foon fhall fee them to their ancient methods fall, Perhaps imagine to be wondrous wit, Juftling fome thousand years till ripen'd by the fun; As from the womb of earth a field of corn. VI. But |