Sweet mimick art! Which to our ravish'd eyes, From a few blended colours, and the aid Of attemper'd light and shade, Bid'st a new creation rise--- Oh! to this song of tributary praise, Which Poetry thy sister art Now with friendly homage pays, Could I contrive thy beauties to impart! With my easy flowing line To unite correctness of design, 10 And make a TITIAN's colouring conspire With RAPHAEL's grace, and BUANOROTI's fire---
And this moment I perceive (Or does some illusion bless me, Some sweet madness now possess me?) My tumultuous bosom heave, Like the rapt SIBYLL's when she feels the load, The painful influence of th' in-rushing God---
Yes---once again with joy I find (Nor think my friend th' assertion bold) 20 This languid age-enfeebled mind, As in life's prime, it's powers unfold--- Again th' ideal scenes arise, The visions stream before my eyes, Resistless on the rous'd imagination pour, And paint themselves as lively as before-----
But be this mental picture grac'd With all th' adornings fancy can bestow, How is it's beauty now effac'd, 30 How fast all it's splendor declines, Out-dazzled by those brighter lines Which on yonder canvas glow----
Where---by th' Historick pencil's aid Whose ages are at once display'd--- Some great event of Rome or Greece Fills perhaps each high wrought piece--- There---some triumphal pomp proceeds--- There---th' impetuous battle bleeds--- Mark! while they engage What ardor what rage, 40 How shields are clash'd with shields--- And with what force up-rais'd in air, Each warrior brawny arm stript bare, Darts th' keen spear, or glittering faulchion wields, And while it aims the stroke, or while repels, How justly each inflated muscle swells----
With the same noble warmth imprest, As with his Lord the gallant beast Was eager to acquire a name, And combated like him for fame, 50 See the generous steed Fierce as CIRCE's high breed Which she stole from her bright-flaming fire, While he springs on the foe, Like the shaft from the bow, Scarce imprint the trod ground; But curvet and bound As if drawn by a pencil of fire----
But what endless length of verse Can suffice me to rehearse 60 Th' enliven'd action of the whole? Squadrons this way, that way bending, The depicted forms contending As instinct with real foul----