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MERIT. A POEM: INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE PHILIP EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.
By Mr. HENRY JONES, Author of the Earl of Eſſex.
LONDON: Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY in Pall-mall; And SOLD by M. COOPER in Pater-noſter-row. MDCCLIII.
MERIT. A POEM.
[3]THOU, ſacred Title to the Voice of Fame!
The Heroe's Paſſport;—nay the Coward's Claim;
The Patriot's high Pretence, the Villain's Boaſt,
The Churchman's deep Diſguiſe, the Coxcomb's Toaſt;
[4]The Fop's affected Maſk, which Dullneſs gave,
A Vizor fitted for the Fool or Knave;
Courted by all Men, while by few poſſeſs'd,
And honour'd only, in the virtuous Breaſt;
Celeſtial Beam! that brightens all above,
And fills with Demi-gods the Court of Jove:
Immortal MERIT! to my Aid deſcend!
Let Fancy fire, let Truth my Verſe attend!
On Truth's eternal Baſe, thy Trophies raiſe,
Let Honeſty to Heaven exalt thy Praiſe;
Let Art, let Genius, on that Ground conſpire;
Let gen'rous Pride the panting Boſom fire,
To mount to Glory, on the Heights of Fame,
And build, on Truth, an everlaſting Name.
Where-e'er Creation's ample Round diſplays
Nature's vaſt Works, and Wiſdom's wond'rous Ways;
[5]Wide as the World's Expanſe, the Bounds of Space,
Where various Forms are deck'd with various Grace;
Where-e'er the plaſtic Energy appears,
In Mites conſpicuous, or th' extended Spheres;
Th' ambitious Soul, the ſearching Mind of Man,
Wou'd ſketch the Parts, wou'd group the glorious Plan;
The reas'ning Inſect ſwells with ſtrong Deſire,
And ſhares a Portion of Celeſtial Fire.
Thoſe favour'd Few, in whom the Sparks divine,
By Heaven's inſpiring Breath, are taught to ſhine;
Who trace the winding Tracts where Comets roll,
Who poize the Planets, and who graſp the Pole;
On NEWTON's Wings the Solar Walk ſurvey,
Look down on Worlds, and loſe this fading Day;
On Wiſdom's Steps, to Wiſdom's Fountain ſoar,
And, in th' Effect, th' eternal Cauſe adore.
[6]
Or ſtoop, with LOCKE, the Gleams of Thought to ſcan,
The Infant's dawning Ray, the Noon of Man;
Whoſe Logic Line the Depths of Reaſon found,
It's vaſt Expanſe, it's cloſe contracted Bound;
Whoſe guiding Hand th'ideal Blank explores,
And opens wide the Senſes' various Doors,
Thro' which the thronging Thoughts their Paſſage find,
In ſocial Tribes, and ſtock the peopled Mind;
Where Fancy, Judgment, Paſſion, ſoar ſo high,
That Wit and Arts, and Vanity ſupply.
Opinions, there, their hoſtile Schemes commence,
And wage an endleſs War with Truth and Senſe.
What aweful Sage diſplays yon ſacred Lore?
Behold him turn all Nature's Treaſures o'er,
Diſcloſe the Funds, whence Truths ſeraphic ſpring,
And reach his Maker on an Inſect's Wing.
[7]Behold him ſink where Wiſdom's Secrets ſleep,
Or weigh the Winds, or ſound th' unfathom'd Deep,
'Mid Coral Groves, and Gems of various Dyes,
Ten thouſand Wonders op'ning to his Eyes;
Through Ocean, Earth, and Air, and Heav'n, purſue
The myſtic Scale, and trace th' eternal Clue.
By Meekneſs rais'd, by Love of Truth inſpir'd;
By Pride untouch'd, his raptur'd Soul aſpir'd
He ſoar'd abſtracted in his glorious Toil,
Gave Earth a guiding Star—and Heav'n a BOYLE!
To Names like theſe the World muſt Homage pay,
And Malice at their Feet her Vipers lay;
Detraction, dazzled at a Beam ſo bright,
Muſt drop her Gall, and ſink to endleſs Night.
[8]Triumphant Truth, on Virtue's Wings ſhall fly,
And Fame for ever ſoar, and Envy die.
What art Thou, ſay? whence doth thy Vigour ſpring?
What plumes, O Genius, thy ſeraphic Wing?
Extatic Viſion op'ning to the View,
A thouſand Tranſports, and for ever new.
Come, ſacred Inmate, come, thou glorious Gueſt,
Take large Poſſeſſion of my lab'ring Breaſt;
Fill all my Faculties with Warmth divine,
And let one Ray of STANHOPE's Flame be mine.
But, ah! a ſolemn Silence fills the Plain,
The Birds are dumb, Britannia ſighs in vain;
Majeſtic Thames, his Murmurs heard no more,
Rolls liſtleſs now his Wave by Greenwich Shore:
The Muſe, in vain, would court her STANHOPE's Ear;
In vain would Harmony ſollicit there;
[9]That ſacred Paſſage to the Throne of Senſe
Is barr'd by Fate, and Converſe baniſh'd thence:
That ſweet Exchange of Soul, by Reaſon made,
Enrich'd by Wiſdom, and by Words convey'd;
Where freighted Thought her treaſur'd Wealth beſtows,
Where Fancy brightens, and where Friendſhip glows.
Behold each Muſe her plaintive Lyre lay by,
The ſilent Graces muſt their Notes ſupply;
In mute Proportion's ſolitary Smile,
The ſtory'd Canvas, and the Claſſic Pile.
The Clouds in Gold array'd, that Heav'n adorn,
The ſetting Evening, and the riſing Morn;
With all that Viſion to rich Fancy lends,
Muſt make my STANHOPE's widdow'd Soul amends.
Look down, ye Angels, that conduct the Spheres,
And fill, with Heavenly Notes, his raptur'd Ears!
[10]Attune that ſocial Inlet! heal that Mind!
'Tis Virtue's Wiſh, the Wiſh of Human Kind.
Riſe, Inſpiration! Goddeſs of thoſe Cells
Where Fancy fledges, and where Genius dwells;
Reveal, at once, thy myſtic Stores to Sight,
Thy World-creating Force, thy wond'rous Light,
Which lifts the Heart on Raptures all refin'd,
And leaves its mortal Droſs far, far behind,
Thoſe ſordid Dregs that damp th' AEtherial Wing,
Which elſe above the Stars to Heav'n would ſpring;
Its native Home—from whence all MERITS flow,
That Angels love, and Mortals reach below:
The Patriot's ſtedfaſt Soul, his firm Deſign;
The Prieſt's unblemiſh'd Warmth, his Plan Divine;
The Lawyer's honeſt Heart, the titled Truth,
[11]The poliſh'd Worth in 3 GREENVILL's Soul we find,
Where Station ſtoops to Friendſhip's holy Tie,
Where Friendſhip lifts that Station ſtill more high.
Shall WALDEGRAVE's Worth adorn the grateful Line?
WALDEGRAVE, in Senates, form'd, and Courts, to ſhine.
Tho' rais'd by Virtue, Birth, and Pow'r, on high,
He ſtoops, ſtill gracious, like the bending Sky;
To low Deſert indulgent and ſerene,
Grace in his Smile, and Goodneſs in his Mien.
Diſtinguiſh'd Chief whom Britain plac'd ſo near
Her Hope, her Bliſs, and all ſhe holds moſt dear;
Her riſing Glory, and her guiding Star;
In Peace her Pillar, and her Shield in War:
[12]Illuſtrious Youth, in whoſe propitious Face,
The princely Virtues dawn of all thy Race;
Thy god-like Race, by Heav'n itſelf deſign'd,
The Friends of Freedom, Truth, and Human Kind.
I ſee the riſing Years, in white Array,
At diſtant Periods, wait thy promis'd Sway:
Lo, Time exults; and in his joyful Train,
Behold the Bleſſings of a Brunſwick's Reign!
See ſmiling Peace her Olive Branch extends,
See buſy Commerce on her Step attends;
Her Flag aloft by Britain's Genius borne;
See wanton Plenty pour her teeming Horn;
See ruddy Health, with naked Boſom bound,
See warlike Vigour drink the martial Sound;
From Pole to Pole ſee GEORGE's Thunder fly,
Whilſt Ocean's Trident at his Feet ſhall lie.
[13]Now Taſte ſhall thrive, now Arts ſublime ſhall ſoar,
Now ev'ry Science teem with ev'ry Lore.
Proud Sculptors there eternal Trophies ſhow,
See Painting here in Heavenly Viſions glow;
Athens ſhall yield to Britain now the Prize,
And Rome, through Envy, turn aſide her Eyes;
The World ſhall wonder, Gallia's ſelf ſhall gaze,
And Lewis' leſs than GEORGE's glory praiſe.
True Heroes now and Patriots ſhall appear,
Like my TYRAWLEY lov'd, to Taſte ſtill dear,
One Hand the Pen, and one ſhall wield the Spear.
In 6 MELMOTH's Heart each ſocial Virtue charms,
Each Grace ſtill guides him, and each Muſe ſtill warms,
From his rich Pen the Roman Genius flows—
See Pliny's Soul through ev'ry Period glows:
[14]See, Claſſic Beauties deck the poliſh'd Page,
Where Senſe ſublime, where brilliant Wit, engage
With ſoft Humanity, the raviſh'd Mind:
In him, the Gems of Greece and Rome we find.
With native Beams, with added Luſtre bright,
Immortal Tully next ſhall charm my Sight!
Come forth, great Sage, in all thy Pow'r confeſs'd,
By MELMOTH's Hand in Engliſh Splendor dreſs'd;
Come forth, at once, to charm me and ſurprize,
To fill my Soul, and bleſs my raviſh'd Eyes!
'Tis done,—and yet thy Country ſtill demands
A nobler Tribute at thy grateful Hands;
Enrich her Boſom from thy native Store,
Thy latent Treaſures, and intrinſic Ore,
And, needleſs, toil in foreign Mines no more.
[15]Thy 7 TILSON joys thy various Wreath to ſee;
Can I forget him; for he gave me thee?
Himſelf a Genius born aloft to ſhine,
Himſelf a Friend,—and let me call him mine.
With theſe, my 8 MORGAN, ſhall thy Merits ſtand—
Lo! Fame already bears thee in her Hand;
Already lifts thee to the public View,
And gives thy Genius and thy Worth their Due.
Thy Tully courts thee, in thy native Tongue,
Tully, whoſe God-like Flame thy Muſe hath ſung;
Whoſe Latian Lore thou long haſt made thy own,
To thee, his ſecret Soul, his hidden Strength are known.
By him accompliſh'd wage the vocal War,
And wield his Thunder at the l oſtile Bar.
[16]
The Health-reſtoring Power that conquers Pain,
In 9 Barry's learned Breaſt, and Heart humane,
O'er Maladies malignant Strength prevails;
The Man oft cures us, when the Med'cine fails.
Wide is the Field where MERIT tries her Force,
Painful the Steeps, and various is the Courſe;
When Nature ſtarting, in her Fervor prides,
When Glory goads us, and when Virtue guides.
The Mimic Arts at firſt from Heav'n we ſtole,
To fill the faireſt Manſions of the Soul;
On them Ambition to her Throne aſcends,
Whilſt ev'ry Kindred Grace her Queen attends;
By Turns approach her, and by Turns retire:—
The Muſe is oft'neſt near—her Notes inſpire
[17]The nobleſt Paſſions to the nobleſt Ends;
For Verſe and Virtue were of old good Friends.
Hail ſacred Art, diſtinguiſh'd and divine,
The ſweeteſt ſounding Trump of Fame is thine;
Thine are the Wreaths which Time ſhall ne'er decay,
When breathing Braſs, when Marble waſte away:
Immortal Regiſter of all that's great,
Above the Strokes of Chance, the Frowns of Fate;
With Nature born, deſcending from the Sky,
With Worlds coeval, nor with Worlds ſhall die;
For ever young, who Time himſelf ſhall tire,
And ſmile ſecure, amid the general Fire.
Great Queen of Harmony, who guides the Spheres,
Who weds the circling Orbs, who rules the Years;
Thy Magic ſways the Mind, and charms the Thought,
And all the Soul's by thy Enchantment caught.
[18]When Hope, when Fear, when Love, when Anguiſh ſtand,
And Terror takes her Tremor from thy Hand,
When Pity melts us at thy potent Call,
And, at thy Nod, the Paſſions riſe and fall.
In OTWAY's Strains what Soul-felt Sorrows flow?
What pow'rful Pathos, and what various Woe?
Through each endearing Tie, each tender Breaſt,
The Wife, the Father, and the Friend diſtreſs'd;
Whilſt each good Heart, by kindred Anguiſh wrung,
Throbs to the Tranſports of a BARRY's Tongue:
Whoſe Voice, whoſe Look, whoſe Air and Action join'd,
Rend the hard Heart, and melt the pitying Mind.
Behold Othello rage, by Frenzy fir'd,
When jealous Love, when Fiends, when Fate, conſpir'd
To rack his tortur'd Thoughts, ten thouſand Ways—
What dread Variety each Stroke diſplays!
[19]Still to my Sight, in Fancy's Mirror ſeen,
With all the Energy of Voice and Mien,
Still BARRY's Force o'erwhelms my ſhrinking Heart;
And to Reflection's Eye ſtill acts the Part.
In Jaffier next, behold him ſoar to Fame;
And next—let others ſpeak th' applauded Name—
I bluſh to ſing what his high Worth demands;
Yet aſk a thouſand Hearts, and Tongues, and Hands,
Whoſe loud Applauſes reach'd the diſtant Spheres,
Or better thank'd him with their ſilent Tears.
In SHAKESPEAR's Scenes what Tempeſts tear the Heart?
How Nature trembles, and her Functions ſtart;
The ſhrihking Spirits to their Source retire,
Or, furious, ruſh, and ſet the Soul on fire:
When Action animates the vaſt Deſign,
When Sound when Motion, ſwells the rapid Line;
[20]When Nature's utmoſt Stretch, when Art conſpire,
In GARRICK's wond'rous Force, in SHAKESPEAR's Fire,
Lo! Terror triumphs with each Grace combin'd,
And dread Aſtoniſhment uſurps the Mind.
Each Look, each Geſture, and each Muſcle ſpeaks,
Each Limb, each Nerve, the fierce Infection takes;
The kindling Energy it's Force diſplays,
'Till all the Man is one continued Blaze.
To reach the Summit of the laſt Sublime,
The higheſt Cliff that human Strength can climb,
At once to reach it, and ſo well maintain,
Is yours, whilſt others toil, and ſtretch, with Pain;
On Arts ſlow-dragging aukward Stilts to riſe,
Your ſoaring Genius ſweeps the vaulted Skies.
Whether the Buſkin, or the Sock you wear,
As gay in Ranger, as diſtreſs'd in Lear;
[21]In Drugger's Tremor, as in Hamlet's Fire;
The Protean Skill of Action we admire.
The Eagle thus that wheels aloft in Air,
Can ſudden ſtoop, and truſs the trembling Hare;
Play round the Rock, or skim the level Plain—
Then inſtant ſpring, and mount to Heav'n again.
The moral Character's the Teſt indeed,
Where Fame ſhould triumph, and the Man ſucceed;
That glorious Attribute for Virtue calls,
And muſt be honbur'd when the Curtain falls;
When Death's dark Curtain drops its Shade between
The judging Audience, and the cloſing Scene:
When Time impartial ſcans the naked Cauſe,
When Truth ſhall give, or Cenſure, or Applauſe.
Come forth, my Friend, confeſs'd to public Sight,
And let us view thee, in this ſacred Light.
[22]How Malice can accuſe! how Envy ſwell!
You ſtand convicted, Sir—for you excel:
That deadly Crime Deſert muſt ſtill endure—
Your Morals cenſur'd ſhall your Fame ſecure.
Your Morals too!—is that their deſp'rate Aim?
What CA'NDISH loves—nor noble BOYLE can blame—
That aweful Cenſor both of Books and Men,
Whoſe Life's as faultleſs as his learned Pen;
To Truth attach'd, from ſervile Byas free,
Wou'd ſpeak that Truth to Kings he ſpeaks to me.
His Heart ingenuous as the Source of Day,
Heedleſs what Madmen dream, or Dunces ſay;
Collected, in his conſcious Worth, withdraws,
And leaves, to Fools, the Squabble for Applauſe.
Go on, ſtill envy'd let your Foes ſtill gaze,
Whilſt Britain gives you Wealth, and Europe Praiſe;
[23]Be ſtill applauded by the Wiſe and Great,
And make your Fortune, and your Fame, compleat:
Till ſated with Renown, in Life's Decline,
Amid the Muſes Shades, retir'd, you ſhine,
Shelter'd by Laurels, which your Worth has won,
Calm and ſerene, like CIBBER's ſetting Sun.
The END.
Notes
1.
Lord Chief Juſtice of the Common-Pleas in Ireland.
2.
Lord Viſcount Charlemont, now on his Travels.
3.
The Right Hon. George Greenvill, Eſq
4.
Jocelyn, Lord Chancellor of Ireland.
5.
The Hon. Richard Mountney, Eſq one of the Barons of the Exchequer in Ireland.
6.
William Melmoth, Eſq celebrated for his Tranſlation of Pliny's Epiſtles, and other rks.
7.
James Tilſon, Eſq a Gentleman diſtinguiſhed for fine Taſte, and companionable Talents.
8.
M. Morgan, Eſq a young Gentleman of the Temple, deſign'd for the Bar.
9.
Dr. Edward Barry, an eminent Phyſician in Dublin.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5001 Merit A poem inscribed to the Right Honourable Philip Earl of Chesterfield By Mr Henry Jones. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-612F-3