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le? 95 The soft complaint shall over time prevail; The tale be told, when shades forsake her shore, The nymph be sung, when she can flow no more. Nor shall thy song, old Thames! forbear to shine, At once the subject and the song divine; 100 Peace, sung by thee, shall please ev'n Britons more Than all their shouts for victory before. Oh! could Britannia imitate thy stream, The world should tremble at her awful name: From various springs divided waters glide, 105 In diff'rent colours roll a diff'rent tide, Murmur along their crooked banks awhile, At once they murmur and enrich the isle; A while distinct through many channels run, But meet at last, and sweetly flow in one; 110 There joy to lose their long-distinguished names, And make one glorious and immortal Thames. ELIJAH FENTON. TO MR. POPE. IN IMITATION OF A GREEK EPIGRAM ON HOMER.[13] When Phoebus, and the nine harmonious maids, Of old assembled in the Thespian shades; What theme, they cried, what high immortal air, Befit these harps to sound, and thee to hear? Replied the god: "Your loftiest notes employ, 5 To sing young Peleus, and the fall of Troy." The wond'rous song with rapture they rehearse; Then ask who wrought that miracle of verse? He answered with a frown: "I now reveal A truth, that envy bids me not conceal: 10 Retiring frequent to this laureat vale, I warbled to the lyre that fav'rite tale, Which, unobserved, a wand'ring Greek and blind, Heard me repeat, and treasured in his mind; And fired with thirst of more than mortal praise, 15 From me, the god of wit, usurped the bays. But let vain Greece indulge her growing fame, Proud with celestial spoils to grace her name; Yet when my arts shall triumph in the west, And the white isle with female pow'r is blest; 20 Fame, I foresee, will make reprisals there, And the translator's palm to me transfer. With less regret my claim I now decline, The world will think his English Iliad mine." DR. THOMAS PARNELL. TO MR. POPE. To praise, and still with just respect to praise A bard triumphant in immortal bays,
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