Who, with success, attempting to impart 245 The worst of Nature to the worst of Art, Still, Wilson, moonstruck, sing of Moons once more, New tales of shipwreck'd Guinea-pigs rehearse, Or paint the India Company in verse; Secure, if English Critics idly frown, 250 See Martinus Scriblerus, and Johnson's Life of Cowley; where these great men have (without reading the E. R., I suppose) expressed a pretty decided opinion upon the merits of the school of which Mr. Wilson is a successful imitator. Mark, scarce emerging from the wordy war, 255 The "tuneful Swan*" of Boswell, Heard, and Parr; Who dar'd, like Icarus, to soar on high Too near the Sun that warms our northern sky: But, ah! unable to support the blaze Which shot in splendor from its vivid rays, 260 With failing pinion sank into the sea That ebbs upon the gulf of dark obscurity. When kind Malone had ceas'd to blast his fame, NOTES. * It is not so extraordinary that this Swan should have attained such a height, when we consider his borrowed plumage, as that so many Veteran sportsmen should be deceived by his appearance in the wide field of Letters. We now see him stripped of his additional feathers, and it is truly a sorry bird without them. To drop the metaphor; after what has been written and said about this ingenuous Youth and his forgeries, the Reader would assuredly not have met with him here, but for a late attempt to draw the attention of the Public to a name, which the privacy of retirement can alone screen from contempt. D And now, "Neglected Genius*" greets the sight, 265 Starts from the shade, and dares alone the light. No Genius here for Ireland's Muse to claim 'Mid England's Minstrels a distinguish'd name, And, spite of all, this offspring of his skill What glittering paget, with every gay design, 270 NOTES. * "Neglected Genius," a Poem by W. H. Ireland, will explain this allusion. The prominent features in Mr. Spencer's style are here detailed: "Numeris decor est et unctura addita crudis." He has published some Poems," " and likewise a Translation from the "Lenore" of Bürger, with designs by Lady Diana Beauclerk. Of this Ballad I think a great deal more has been said than it deserves. It has already met with four translations in the English Language: but the German, of whose style" simplicity is the characteristic," as Mr. Spencer rightly observes, "looks like Tom Errand drest in Clincher's clothes," in the fine tawdry Who lauds the blooming graces of the Town? Who "pillows joy on softest, smoothest down*?” NOTES. suit of English embroidery which Mr. S. has provided for him. It sits awkwardly on the Bard of Aschersleben, whose own homely dress peeps here and there through the lace that envelopes it. To be serious, Mr. S. has refined away all the beauty of the Original. If Bürger merely says: "It is a fine star-light night," his Translator instantly transforms it into a conceit—to the proof: bis sonnenuntergang, Bis auf am Himmelsbogen Die golden Sterne zogen : which is literally thus: "Till the sun went down, and the golden stars appeared in the vault of Heaven:" now see the translation. Till westward sunk the car of light, To gem the matron weeds of night. *To smooth Reflection's mentor frown, And pillow Joy on softer down. SPENCER'S Poems. Wreathes Erato with flow'rets, and refines With "lima labor" all his polish'd lines? 275 NOTES. Lady Diana Beauclerk has been led into a whimsical error by this desultory mode of translation. Bürger, when describing Leonora mounting behind the Spectre, makes use of these words: Schön Liebchen schürzte, sprang und schwang Sich auf das Ross behende ; Wohl um den trauten Reiter schlang Sie ihren lilienhände: which are thus rendered: Loose was her zone, her breast unveil'd, All wild her shadowy tresses hung ; O'er fear confiding love prevail'd, As lightly on the barb she sprung. Now the meaning of the two last lines in the German is omitted; and, as the three first in English are entirely expletive, the fair Artist, in representing Leonora un peu en deshabillé, has been employing her pencil to illustrate, not Bürger, but Mr. Spencer. |