and therefore would look more deformedly, ill drest in it. I am far from assuming to myself to have fulfilled the duty of this weighty undertaking: but sure I am, there is nothing yet in our language (nor perhaps in any) that is in any degree answerable to the idea that I conceive of it. And I shall be ambitious of no other fruit from this weak and imperfect attempt of mine, but the opening of a way to the courage and industry of some other persons, who may be better able to perform it thoroughly and successfully. THE Mотто. "Tentanda via est, &c." WHAT shall I do to be for ever known, Whilst others great, by being born, are grown; If I, her vulgar stone, for either look, Out of myself it must be strook. Yet I must on; What sound is't strikes mine ear? Sure I Fame's trumpet hear: It sounds like the last trumpet; for it can the buried man. Raise up Unpast Alps stop me; but I'll cut them all, And march, the Muses' Hannibal. Hence, the desire of honours or estate, Hence, Love himself, that tyrant of my days! Come, my best friends, my books! and lead me on; "Tis time that I were gone. Welcome, great Stagyrite! and teach me now Thy scholar's victories thou dost far out-do; He conquer'd th' earth, the whole world you. Welcome, learn'd Cicero! whose blest tongue and wit Preserves Rome's greatness yet: Thou art the first of Orators; only he Who best can praise thee, next must be. But you have climb'd the mountain's top, there sit And, whilst with wearied steps we upward go, ODE. OF WIT. TELL me, O tell, what kind of thing is Wit, For the first matter loves variety less; |