ON THE USE OF POETRY

by: Mark Akenside (1721-1770)

      1
      ot for themselves did human kind
      Contrive the parts by heaven assign'd
      On life's wide scene to play:
      Not Scipio's force nor Caesar's skill
      Can conquer Glory's arduous hill,
      If Fortune close the way.
      2
      Yet still the self-depending soul,
      Though last and least in Fortune's roll,
      His proper sphere commands;
      And knows what Nature's seal bestow'd,
      And sees, before the throne of God,
      The rank in which he stands.
      3
      Who train'd by laws the future age,
      Who rescued nations from the rage
      Of partial, factious power,
      My heart with distant homage views;
      Content, if thou, celestial Muse,
      Didst rule my natal hour.
      4
      Not far beneath the hero's feet,
      Nor from the legislator's seat
      Stands far remote the bard.
      Though not with public terrors crown'd.
      Yet wider shall his rule be found,
      More lasting his award.
      5
      Lycurgus fashion'd Sparta's fame,
      And Pompey to the Roman name
      Gave universal sway:
      Where are they?—Homer's reverend page
      Holds empire to the thirtieth age,
      And tongues and climes obey.
      6
      And thus when William's acts divine
      No longer shall from Bourbon's line
      Draw one vindictive vow;
      When Sydney shall with Cato rest,
      And Russel move the patriot's breast
      No more than Brutus now;
      7
      Yet then shall Shakspeare's powerful art
      O'er every passion, every heart,
      Confirm his awful throne:
      Tyrants shall bow before his laws;
      And Freedom's, Glory's, Virtue's cause,
      Their dread assertor own.

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