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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530266" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Mr. Addison on His Opera of Rosamond</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">______ Ne fortè pudori <br>Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers, & cantor Apollo.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The Opera first Italian masters taught, <br>Enrich'd with songs, but innocent of thought; <br>Britannia's learned theatre disdains <br>Melodious trifles, and enervate strains; <br>And blushes, on her injur'd stage to see <br>Nonsense well-tun'd, and sweet stupidity. <br>No charms are wanting to thy artful song, <br>Soft as Corelli, and as Virgil strong. <br>From Words so sweet new grace the notes receive, <br>And Music borrows helps, she us'd to give.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy style hath match'd what ancient Romans knew, <br>Thy flowing numbers far excel the new. <br>Their cadence in such easy sound convey'd, <br>The height of thought may seem superfluous aid; <br>Yet in such charms the noble thoughts abound, <br>That needless seem the sweets of easy sound. <br>Landscapes how gay the bowery grotto yields, <br>Which thought creates, and lavish fancy builds! <br>What art can trace the visionary scenes, <br>The flowery groves, and everlasting greens,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The babbling sounds that mimic echo plays, <br>The fairy shade, and its eternal maze? <br>Nature and Art in all their charms combin'd, <br>And all Elysium to one view confin'd! <br>No further could imagination roam, <br>Till Vanbrugh fram'd, and Marlborough rais'd the dome. <br>Ten thousand pangs my anxious bosom tear, <br>When drown'd in tears I see th' imploring fair; <br>When bards less soft the moving words supply, <br>A seeming justice dooms the nymph to die;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But here she begs, nor can she beg in vain <br>(In dirges thus expiring swans complain); <br>Each verse so swells expressive of her woes, <br>And every tear in lines so mournful flows; <br>We, spite of fame, her fate revers'd believe, <br>O'erlook her crimes, and think she ought to live. <br>Let joy salute fair Rosamonda's shade, <br>And wreaths of myrtle crown the lovely maid. <br>While now perhaps with Dido's ghost she roves, <br>And hears and tells the story of their loves,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alike they mourn, alike they bless their fate, <br>Since Love, which made them wretched, makes them great. <br>Nor longer that relentless doom bemoan, <br>Which gain'd a Virgil, and an Addison. <br>Accept, great monarch of the British lays, <br>The tribute song an humble subject pays. <br>So tries the artless lark her early flight, <br>And soars, to hail the god of verse and light. <br>Unrivall'd, as unmatch'd, be still thy fame, <br>And thy own laurels shade thy envy'd name:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy name, the boast of all the tuneful quire, <br>Shall tremble on the strings of every lyre; <br>While the charm'd reader with thythought complies, <br>Feels corresponding joys or sorrows rise, <br>And views thy Rosamond with Henry's eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Tickell">Thomas Tickell</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530266" data-title="To Mr. Addison on His Opera of Rosamond de Thomas Tickell" data-description="______ Ne fortè pudori 
Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers, & cantor Apollo.


The Opera first Italian masters taught, 
Enrich'd with songs, but innocent of thought; 
Britannia's learned theatre disdains 
Melodious trifles, and enervate strains; 
And blu..."></div>
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