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APPENDIX.

I.-COMMENDATORY VERSES PREFIXED TO THE SECOND EDITION OF "WINTER."

TO MR. THOMSON,

DOUBTFUL TO WHAT PATRON HE SHOULD ADDRESS HIS POEM 66 CALLED WINTER.

SOME peers, perhaps, have skill to judge, 't is true;

Yet no mean prospect bounds the Muse's view.
Firm in your native strength, thus nobly shown,
Slight such delusive props, and stand alone;
Fruitless dependence oft has found, too late,
That greatness rarely dwells among the great.
Patrons are Nature's nobles, not the state's,
And wit's a title no Broad Seal creates ;

Even kings, from whose high source all honours flow,
Are poor in power when they would souls bestow.
Heedless of fortune, then, look down on state,
Balanced within by reason's conscious weight:
Divinely proud of independent will,

Prince of your passions, live their sovereign still.
He who stoops safe beneath a patron's shade
Shines, like the moon, but by another's aid;
Free truth should open and unbiass'd steer,
Strong as heaven's heat, and as its brightness clear.
O, swell not then the bosoms of the vain
With false conceit that you protection gain;
Poets, like you, their own protectors stand,
Placed above aid from Pride's inferior hand.
Time, that devours the lord's unlasting name,
Shall lend her soundless depth to float your fame.
On verse like yours no smiles from Power expect,
Born with a worth that doom'd you to neglect ;

Yet, would your wit be noised, reflect no more,
Let the smooth veil of flattery silk you o'er;
Aptly attach'd, the court's soft climate try,
Learn your pen's duty from your patron's eye.
Ductile of soul, each pliant purpose wind,
And, tracing interest close, leave doubt behind:
Then shall your name strike loud the public ear;
For through good fortune Virtue's self shines clear.
But, in defiance of our taste, to charm,

And fancy's force with judgment's caution arm;
Disturb, with busy thought, so lull'd an age,
And plant strong meanings o'er the peaceful page;
Impregnate sound with sense; teach Nature art,
And warm even Winter till it thaws the heart:
How could you thus your country's rules transgress,
Yet think of patrons, and presume success?

O GAUDY Summer! veil thy blushing head,
Dull is thy sun, and all thy beauties dead:
From thy short nights, and noisy mirthful day,
My kindling thoughts, disdainful, turn away.
Majestic Winter with his floods appears,
And o'er the world his awful terrors rears:
From north to south his train dispreading slow,
Blue frost, bleak rain, and fleecy-footed snow.
In thee, sad Winter, I a kindred find,
Far more related to poor human-kind;
To thee my gently-drooping head I bend,
Thy sigh my sister, and thy tear my friend;
On thee I muse, and in thy hastening sun
See life expiring ere 't is well begun.

Thy sickening ray and venerable gloom
Show life's last scene, the solitary tomb;
But thou art safe, so shaded by the bays,
Immortal in the noblest poet's praise;

From time and death he will thy beauties save;
O may such numbers weep o'er Mira's grave!
Secure and glorious would her ashes lie,
Till Nature fade, and all the Seasons die.

TO MR. THOMSON,

MIRA.

ON HIS PUBLISHING THE SECOND EDITION OF HIS POEM, 66 CALLED WINTER."

CHARM'D and instructed by thy powerful song,

I have, unjust, withheld my thanks too long;
This debt of gratitude at length receive,
Warmly sincere, 't is all thy friend can give.

Thy worth new lights the poet's darken'd name,
And shows it, blazing, in the brightest fame.
Through all thy various "Winter" full are found
Magnificence of thought and pomp of sound,
Clear depth of sense, expression's heightening grace,
And goodness, eminent in power and place.
For this, the wise, the knowing few commend
With zealous joy-for thou art Virtue's friend:
Even Age and Truth severe, in reading thee,
That Heaven inspires the Muse, convinced agree.
Thus I dare sing of merit faintly known,
Friendless supported by itself alone:

For those whose aided will could lift thee high
In fortune, see not with Discernment's eye.

Nor place nor power bestows the sight refined,

And wealth enlarges not the narrow mind.

How couldst thou think of such and write so well?
Or hope reward by daring to excel?
Unskilful of the age! untaught to gain
Those favours which the fawning base obtain!
A thousand shameful arts to thee unknown,
Falsehood and flattery must be first thy own.
If thy loved country lingers in thy breast,
Thou must drive out the' unprofitable guest;
Extinguish each bright aim that kindles there,
And centre in thyself thy every care.

But hence that vileness-pleased to charm mankind,
Cast each low thought of interest far behind:
Neglected into noble scorn-away

From that worn path where vulgar poets stray;
Inglorious herd! profuse of venal lays,

And by the pride despised they stoop to praise !
Thou, careless of the statesman's smile or frown,
Tread that straight way that leads to fair renown.
By virtue guided, and by glory fired,

And by reluctant envy slow admired,

Dare to do well, and in thy boundless mind
Embrace the general welfare of thy kind;
Enrich them with the treasures of thy thought,

What Heaven approves and what the Muse has taught.
Where thy power fails, unable to go on,
Ambitious, greatly will the good undone.

So shall thy name, through ages, brightening shine,
And distant praise from worth unborn be thine :
So shalt thou, happy, merit Heaven's regard,

And find a glorious, though a late, reward.

II.

D. MALLOCH.

SPECIMENS OF THOMSON'S PROSE.

I PRESENT the reader with two specimens of Thomson's composition in prose, the one written twenty-two years after the other.

PREFACE.*

I AM neither ignorant nor concerned how much one may suffer in the opinion of several persons of great gravity and character by the study and pursuit of poetry.

Although there may seem to be some appearance of reason for the present contempt of it, as managed by the most part of our modern writers, yet that any man should, seriously, declare against that divine art, is really amazing. It is declaring against the most charming power of imagination, the most exalting force of thought, the most affecting touch of sentiment; in a word, against the very soul of all learnPrefixed to the second and third editions of "Winter," 1726.

ing and politeness. It is affronting the universal taste of mankind, and declaring against what has charmed the listening world from Moses down to Milton. In fine, it is even declaring against the sublimest passages of the inspired writings themselves, and what seems to be the peculiar language of Heaven.

The truth of the case is this: These weak-sighted gentlemen cannot bear the strong light of poetry, and the finer and more amusing scene of things it displays. But must those, therefore, whom Heaven has blessed with the discerning eye, shut it to keep them company?

It is pleasant enough, however, to observe, frequently, in these enemies of poetry, an awkward imitation of it. They sometimes have their little brightnesses, when the opening glooms will permit. Nay, I have seen their heaviness, on some occasions, deign to turn friskish and witty; in which they make just such another figure as Esop's Ass, when he began to fawn. To complete the absurdity, they would, even in their efforts against poetry, fain be poetical; like those gentlemen that reason with a great deal of zeal and severity against reason.

That there are frequent and notorious abuses of poetry, is as true as that the best things are most liable to that misfortune; but is there no end of that clamorous argument against the use of things from the abuse of them? And yet I hope that no man who has the least sense of shame in him, will fall into it after the present sulphureous attacker of the stage.

To insist no further on this head, let poetry once more be restored to her ancient truth and purity; let her be inspired from heaven; and, in return, her incense ascend thither : let her exchange her low, venal, trifling subjects for such as are fair, useful, and magnificent; and let her execute these so as at once to please, instruct, surprise, and astonish; and then, of necessity, the most inveterate ignorance and prejudice shall be struck dumb, and poets yet become the delight and wonder of mankind.

But this happy period is not to be expected till some longwished illustrious man, of equal power and beneficence, rise