ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER. William Collins Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1135 K093079.002 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. II. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 34-37. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER . BY THE SAME . AS once , if not with light regard , I read aright that gifted Bard , ( Him whose school above the rest His loveliest Elsin queen has blest ) One , only one , unrivall'd fair Florimel . See Spenser , Leg. 4th . Might hope the magic girdle wear , At solemn turney hung on high , The wish of each love-darting eye . Lo ! to each other nymp in turn applied , As if , in air unseen , some hovering hand , Some chaste and angel-friend to virgin fame , With whisper'd spell had burst the starting band , It left unblest her loath'd dishonour'd side ; Happier , hopeless fair , if never Her baffled hand with vain endeavour Had touch'd that fatal zone to her denied ! Young Fancy thus , to me divinest name , To whom , prepar'd and bath'd in heaven , The cest of amplest power is given : To few the god like gift assignt , To gird their blest prophetic loins , And gaze her visions wild , and feel unmix'd her flame . The band , as fairy legends say , Was wove on that creating day , When he , who call'd with thought to birth Yon tented sky , this laughing earth , And drest with springs , and forests tall , And pour'd the main engirting all , Long by the lov'd enthusiast woo'd , Himself in some diviner mood , Retiring , sat with her alone , And plac'd her on his saphire throne , The whiles , the vaulted shrine around , Seraphic wires were heard to sound ! Now sublimest triumph swelling , Now on love and mercy dwelling ; And she , from out the veiling cloud , Breath'd her magic notes aloud : And thou , thou rich-hair'd youth of morn , And all thy subject life was born ! The dangerous passions kept aloof , Far from the sainted growing woof : But near it sat ecstatic Wonder , Listening the deep applauding thunder : And Truth , in sunny vest array'd , By whose the Tarsol's eyes were made : All the shadowy tribes of Mind , In braided dance their murmurs join'd , And all the bright uncounted Powers , Who feed on heaven's ambrosial flowers . Where is the Bard , whose soul can now Its high presuming hopes avow ? Where he who thinks , with rapture blind , This hallow'd work for him design'd ? High on some cliff , to heaven up-pil'd , Of rude access , of prospect wild , Where , tangled round the jealous steep , Strange shades o'erbrow the vallies deep , And holy Genii guard the rock , Its glooms embrown , its springs unlock , While on its rich ambitious head , An Eden , like his own , lies spread . I view that oak , the fancy'd glades among , By which as Milton lay , his evening ear , From many a cloud that dropp'd ethereal dew , Nigh spher'd in heaven its native strains could hear : On which that antient trump he reach'd was hung ; Thither of his glory greeting , From Waller's myrtle shades retreating , With many a vow from Hope's aspiring tongue , My trembling feet his guiding steps pursue ; In vain — Such bliss to one alone , Of all the sons of soul was known , And Heaven , and Fancy , kindred powers , Have now o'erturn'd th' inspiring bowers , Or curtain'd close such scene from every future view .