If e’er just taste, and sympathy sincere,
Reader, thy breast illum’d, they kindle here,
Here, at the Sun of Genius, for it shines
And pours a flood of radiance through the lines.
But to perceive in what degree each theme
Draws life and beauty from the plastic beam;
To mark how deep its sacred force pervades,
Its lights how lustrous, and how soft its shades,
Demands a kindred Spirit, skill’d to pierce
The coyest labyrinths of Aonian verse;
And HAYLEY’S powers due praise can only gain
When Poets analyze his various strain;
Feel the extent of every just design,
And taste the flowing sweetness of the line;
The learn’d allusions mark, th’ inventive art,
The skill to energize and melt the heart;
Through all the imagery empower’d to trace
The strength impressive, and the winning grace;
Behold the gay satiric verse arise
From the rich source Benevolence supplies;
For with her lustre, flashing from the lyre,
Nor spleen, nor malice, mix their lightless fire;
Since, though the pomp of letter’d Insolence,
Cold-hearted Vanity, and nice Pretence,
Stript of their veil, the lucid rhyme displays,
Yet every virtue brightens in its rays.
Ingenious GROVE! thy own poetic vein,
Its classic elegance, its tuneful strain,
Are certain pledges, that to thee belong
Powers, to appreciate well the Poet’s song,
And competent to breathe the just acclaim,
Unerring harbinger of lasting fame.