ON THE Present Corrupted State OF POETRY. Nahum Tate 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. Tate, Nahum, c. 1652-1715. Poems by N. Tate. London Printed by T.M. for Benj. Tooke ... 1677 pp. 14-19. [15],133p.

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ON THE Present Corrupted State OF POETRY . I. WRite thy own Elegy Apostate Art , Thou Angel once of Light ; But , since thy Fall , a Fiend of Night , Mankind endeav'ring to pervert . At first , to th'Altars Service thou wert bound , With Innocence instead of Lawrel Crown'd ; Anthems and Hallelujah's only did'st resound : But now , forgetful of thy high Descent , meanly thou labour'st to foment The Vanity and Vices of the Age ; Flatt'ring in Courts , and Rev'lling on the Stage . That Poesie , that did at first inspire Devotion and Seraphick Fire , Degenerate now her Art imploy's In Recommending Sensual Ioyes ; Bawd-like , contriving to excite The wasted Letcher's Appetite ; And with forc'd Heat sustain Love's languishing Desire . II . The wisest and most potent Kings of Old , did not disdain To leave their Royal Names Enroll'd , With those of the Poetick Train : They reapt more durable Renown From Writing well , Then when they did in Arms excell : They priz'd their Poets Wreath above their Prince's Crown . But then the Celebrated Nine , Pious as Sybills , Chast as Vestals were , The Graces were not more Divine ; But now Deform'd , and Bloated they appear ; Nyctimene sustain'd , no Change so fowl , Transform'd into a glaring Owl ; Or when th' Audacious King a New-made Wolf did Houl . III . In Ages past , when Vertue was allow'd , The Dignity of Verse was Understood : 'Twas then employ'd t'embalm some Worthy's Name : Nought then cou'd purchase Elogies but Fame . But Poetry now is Mercenary grown . Encomiums she'll bestow On Potentates , by their high Rank alone , And singular Vices infamously known ; For , if no Paint or Varnish can disguise Their gross Enormities , Audaciously she'll Praise their Vices too ! Thus none more largely share in her Applause , Than some grand Murtherer O'th' Field , That boasts of Myriads kill'd , Regardless of the Justice of his Cause . If to Destroy can challenge Fame , Famines and Plagues the largest Trophies claim ; But these the Muses Peccadillo's are , And cannot with their blacker Crimes compare : Long since they were Immodest grown , and Vain ; But are ( Oh ! Heav'n ) at last become Profane ! Atheism and Blasphemy have dar'd to Preach , Religion of Imposture to impeach ; Stiffling that Zeal , which first Themselves to the rude World did . Teach . IV . Time was when Pious Bards might safely Dream By Helicon , or fair Pirene's Stream ; And fly their towring Wit at some Caelestial Theam : But now , with Leaprous Fancies bathing there , Those Springs so infamous are grown , Chast Souls fear to approach the Muses Air ; And sacred Theams the Poyson'd Waters shun . Nor has Heav'ns just Revenge regardless view'd , Th' Enormities Of these Apostate Votaries ; But them and their Confaed'rates too , with signal Rage pursu'd . A constant Curse of Poverty attends Th'Unfortunate Man , whom any Muse befriends . All who in this deluding Art engage , Set out with Pleasure , drooping reach their Stage ; Frollick in Youth , and Male-content in Age ! Thus ( neer Learn'd Cam's fair Current Pensive laid ) Th'Ill-treated Cowley did his Muse upbraid : Ah ! who'd Credit that Surveys , Th' Amours and Dalliance of their Youthful Dayes ? That ere this Peaceful Bard , and gentle Muse , Cou'd Bicker thus , and mutually accuse ? So , whil'st some seeming Happy Pair ( who Hymens Fetters wear ) In Publick Fond as Turtles are , Th'Unwed with Envy their Caresses View But Ah ! What wou'd they do , If ( as they see their open Loves ) their private Feuds They knew ?