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DRAWN BY RICHARD WESTALL,R.A.ENGRAVED BY W. FINDEN
SEPT. 29. 1826.
THE PROGRESS OF POESY.
A PINDARIC ODE.
Φωγαντα συνετοίσιν ες
A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
Ver. 1. Awake, Æolian lyre, awake] “ Awake, my glory: awake, late and harp.” David's PSALMS.
VARIATION.—“Awake, my lyre : my glory, wake.” Pindar styles his own poetry, with its musical accompaniments, Αίολής μολπή, Αόλιδες χορδαί, Αιολίδων πνοαι αυλών, Æolian song, Æolian strinys, the breath of the Æolian tiute.
The subject and simile, as usual with Pindar, are united. The various sources of poetry, which give life and lustre to all it touches, are here described ; its quiet majestic progress enriching every subject (otherwise dry and barren) with a pomp of diction and luxuriant harmony of numbers ; and its more rapid and irresistible course, when swoln and hurried away by the conflict of tumultuous passions.
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul,
And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.
I. 3. Thee the voice, the dance, obey, Temper'd to thy warbled lay.
Ver. 13. Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul] Power of harmony to calm the turbulent sallies of the soul. The thoughts are borrowed from the first Pythian of Pindar.
Ver. 20. Perching on the sceptred hand] This is a weak, imitation of some beautiful lines in the same ode.
Ver. 25. Thee the voice, the dance, obey] Power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the body.
O'er Idalia's velvet green
Now in circling troops they meet:
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay.
In gliding state she wins her easy way:
Man's feeble race what ills await!
And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate !
of har Esoughts
Ver. 42. Man's feeble race what ills await] To compensate the real and imaginary ills of life, the muse was given to mankind by the same Providence that sends the day, by its cheerfal presence, to dispel the gloom
and terrors of the night.