Are these the triumphs then that rank affords, 175
And these, Patricians, these your Poet Lords?
One steals remorseless, while the other strives
For ancient rhymes, and Arcadie revives.
O were it not, that some superior few
Still onward press with glory in their view, 180
And still the splendor of their height sustain,
How weak were Birth! Nobility how vain!

Lo! next, ambitious Wharton* fain would share

The Politician's and the Poet's care :

NOTES.

Idiots and Lunatics in possession.” In “The Battle of Hexham" a Corporal says to his troop :- „“ Know yourselves for a parcel of Fools, and I'm at the head of you.”

* Of“ Roncesvalles,” which is the title of the Epic Poem that the Secretary to the Treasury has presented to the world, with all the advantages of being printed on wire-wove paper-dedicated to a Princess of the Blood Royal--and decorated with a dainty Print of Urganda seated on the summit of a Volcano, and enve

First, from the Treasury Benches would demand 185
The “ Ways and Means” of this so gifted land.
Then from the World retired, in happier hours
Woo the soft Muses in Aonian bowers;
Ask from their hands the <

Ways and Means to,

form

190

An Epic glowing from his Fancy warm.
The Poem finished :-- the impatient Bard
Seeks from the world a Poet's great reward;

NOTES.

loped with clouds — it will not be difficult to predict, that, like the Arthur of Blackmore, the Davideis of Cowley, the Moses or the Deborah of Parnell, it will never be read beyond the first fisty lines. Mr. Wharton has taken his materials chiefly from Berni's Rifaccimento of L’Orlando Innamorato of Boyardo, and the Morgante Maggiore of Pulci, although it is only to the former of these that he makes due acknowledgement. But the embellistments of imagination, the harmony of measure, and the propriety of versification, are peculiarly his own. So peculiarly, indeed, that however uncertain I may be as to whether he feel much honored by the profit, of this I am sure, that the “honor profiteth him nothing."

21

Thinks that his task's complete; that even now

Homerian laurels fall to deck his brow.

Vain hope! The Magic, in his line imprest, 195
Distilled its venom thro' his lab'ring breast;
And, when he fancied Inspiration smiled,
Dulness alone each slumb'ring sense beguiled:
Arm’d with Urganda's pow'r, above his head
She took her station, poised on wings of lead, 200
That dead’ning fanned the energies of mind,
And left each charm of Poesy bebind.
Then, from the brain, the Epic Monster sprang,
And all Parnassus startled at the clang!

Now Judgment frowns, as o'er the rugged lay 205
’Mid pilfer'd scenes she struggling holds her way;
And, once again, finds Ariosto’s line,
Where Fiends, and Spells, and Chivalry combine ;
Sees brave Orlando, stung to deeds of shame,
In Folly live, in Death regain his fame.
But then the age the Bard's excuse might plead,
And wing’d Invention consecrate the deed;

210

Now, when the times no fictious tale require,
When e'en the tale can boast no Poet's fire,
Will dulld Conception ponder o'er the line, 215
Where Blackmore's sense and Hayley's metre join ?
Strange mania! that the pamper'd sons of ease,
Who rise from pow'r to pow'r by due degrees,
Should, far from danger, in its scenes delight,
And dream of what they ne'er beheld--a fight! 220
E'en Croker loves in poesy to kill,
Tho' « half the business of the world stand still."
He sings, while all, to foreign wars who roam,
Are sacrificed to Battles fought at home.
At home? Yes-trained like Addison to wield 225
The miņisterial sword and pond'rous shield,
Still Nereus Croker* spouts forth Paper prose
To whelm the host of Opposition foes ;

NOTES.

* The letters in the Courier signed “ Nereus," are attributed to Mr. Croker,

And Vict'ry's losses strives to reimburse,
By turning Wellington's Despatch * to verse! 230
Say, who is het that vainly hopes to move
By adding Crusoe to a tale of love;

NOTES.

. See“ Talavera," a Poem by J. W. Croker, Esq.

+ Redeunt Saturnia Regna! the reign of nonsense and Della Crusca is returned; and it will require more than the hand of a Gifford to crush this modern Antæus. That Mr. Wilson is a worthy member of the “ Cruscan Fraternity” may be seen by the following extracts from“ a non-descript, called the Isle of Palms, '" to which he has prefixed bis name:

The tiniest boat that ever sailed

“ Might through this sea, without a fear,

Her silent journey take.”.

“ How like a monarch would she glide,

While the husht billows kiss'd her side
With low and lulling tone.".

“ List how in murmurs of delight

The blessed airs of Heaven invite

The joyous bark to pass one night