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Will damn the goats for their ill-natur'd faults,
And save the sheep for actions, not for thoughts,
Hath too much mercy to send men to hell,
For humble charity, and hoping well.

To what stupidity are zealots grown,
Whose inhumanity, profusely shown
In damning crowds of souls, may damn their own.
I'll err at least on the fecurer fide,
A convert free from malice and from pride.

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To my Friend Mr. John DRYDEN, on his several

excellent Traollations of the ancient Poets.

By G. GRANVILLE, Lord LANSDOWNE.

AS

S pow'rs, transplanted from a southern sky,

But hardly bear, or in the raising die;
Mising their native sun, at best retain
But a faint odour, and survive with pain:
Thus ancient wit, in modern numbers taught,
Wanting the warmth with which its author wrote,
Is a dead image, and a senseless draught.
While we transfufe, the nimble spirit flies,
Escapes unseen, evaporates, and dies.
Who then to copy Roman wit desire,
Must imitate with Ronian force and fire,

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In elegance of style and phrase the same,
And in the sparkling genius, and the flame.
Whence we conclude from thy translated song,
So juft, so smooth, so soft, and yet so strong,

,
Caelestial poet! foul of harmony !
That ev'ry genius was reviv'd in thee.
Thy trumpet sounds, the dead are rais’d to light,
Never to die, and take to heav'n their fight;
Deck'd in thy verse, as clad with rays they shine,
All glorified, immortal, and divine.
As Britain in rich soil abounding wide,
Furnish'd for use, for luxury, and pride,
Yet spreads her wanton fails on ev'ry shore
For foreign wealth, insatiate still of more ;
To her own wool the silks of Asia joins,
And to her plenteous harvests India's mines;
So Dryden, not contented with the fame
Of his own works, tho' an immortal name,
To lands remote sends forth his learned muse,
The noblest seeds of foreign wit to choose:
Feasting our sense so many various ways,
Say, is't thy bounty, or thy thirst of praise ?
That by comparing others, all might see,
Who most excel, are yet excell'd by thee.

Let them not still be obstinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou haft design'd,
Or with malignant penury,
To starve the royal virtues of his mind.
Faith is a christian's and a subject's test,
Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest.

They do ; and with a distant view I see

Th' amended vows of English loyalty. And all beyond that object, there appears The long retinue of a prosperous reign, A series of successful years, In orderly array, a.martial, manly train. Behold ev’n the remoter shores, A conquering navy proudly spread; The British cannon formidably roars, While starting from his oozy bed, Th' asserted ocean rears his reverend head ; To view and recognize his ancient lord again : And with a willing hand, restores The fasces of the main.

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CRE

REATOR spirit, by whose aid

The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit ev'ry pious mind;
Come pour thy joys on human kind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.

O source of uncreated light,
The father’s promised Paraclete !
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire ;
Come, and thy sacred unction bring
To fanctify us, while we sing.

Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sev’nfold energy!
Thou strength of his Almighty hand,
Whofe pow'r does heav'n and earth command.
Proceeding spirit, our defence,
Who do'st the gifts of tongues dispense,
And crown'st thy gift with eloquence !

Refine and purge our earthly parts ;
But, oh, inflame and fire cur hearts !
Our frailties help, our vice controul,
Submit the senses to the soul

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And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold 'em down.

Chace from our minds th' infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, bestow; And left our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way.

Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe:
Give us thyself, that we may see
The Father, and the Son, by thee.

Immortal honour, endless fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's name:
The Saviour Son be glorify'd,
Who for loft man's redemption dy'd:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee.

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