Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry (1700) and the Essay on Heroic Poetry (second edition, 1697) | Page 6

too late, Remember
_Phaeton_'s unhappy Fate! Eager to guide the Coursers of the Day, }
Beneath their Brazen Hoofs he trampled lay, } And his bright Ruines
mark'd their flaming Way. } 30
[Sidenote: Genius.] You'll ask, What GENIUS is, and Where to find?
'Tis the full Power and Energy of _Mind_: A Reach of Thought that
skims all Nature o'er, Exhausts this narrow World, and asks for _more_:
Through every Rank of Beings when't has flown, Can frame a New
Creation of its own: By Possible and Future unconfin'd: Can stubborn
Contradictions yoke, and bind Through _Fancy_'s Realms, with
Number, Time and Place, _Chimera-Forms_, a thin, an airy Race; 40
Then with a secret conscious Pride surveys The Enchanted Castles
which't had Power to raise.
[Sidenote: Wit.] As Genius is the Strength
, be WIT defin'd The Beauty
and the Harmony of _Mind_: _Beauty's_ Proportion, Air, each lively
Grace The Soul diffuses round the _Heav'nly Face_: 'Tis various, yet
'tis equal, still the same In Alpine Snows, or _Ethiopian Flame_; While
glaring Colours short-liv'd Grace supply, Nor Frost nor Sun they bear,
but scorch and die. 50
[Sidenote: Judgment.] Nor these alone, tho much they can, suffice,
JUDGMENT must join, or never hope the Prize: Those Headstrong
Coursers scowr along the Plains, The _Rider's_ down, if once he lose

the _Reins_: Soon the Mad Mixture will to all give Law, And for the
Laurel Wreaths present thee Wreaths of Straw. _Judgment's_ the _Act
of Reason_; that which brings Fit Thoughts to Thoughts, and argues
Things from Things, True, Decent, Just, are in its Balance try'd, And
thence we learn to _Range, Compound, Divide_. 60
[Sidenote: Invention and Memory.] A Cave there is wherein those
Nymphs reside Who all the Realms of Sense and Fancy guide; Nay
some affirm that in the deepest Cell Imperial _Reason's_ self does not
disdain to dwell: With Living Reed 'tis thatch'd and guarded round,
Which mov'd by Winds emit a Silver Sound: Two Crystal Fountains
near its Entrance play, } Wide scatt'ring Golden Streams which ne'er
decay, } Two Labyrinths behind harmonious Sounds convey: } Chiefly,
within, the Room of State is fam'd 70 Of rich Mosaick Work divinely
fram'd: Of small Extent to view, 'twill all things hide, Heav'n's Azure
Arch it self not half so wide: Here all the Arts their sacred Mansion
chuse, Here dwells the MOTHER of the Heav'n-born Muse: With
wond'rous mystic Figures round 'tis wrought Inlaid with FANCY, and
_anneal'd_ with _Thought_: With more than humane Skill depicted
here The various Images of Things appear; What Was, or Is, or labours
yet to Be 80 Within the Womb of Dark Futurity, May Stowage in this
wondrous Storehouse find, Yet leave unnumber'd empty Cells behind:
But ah! as fast they come, they fly too fast, Not _Life or Happiness are
more in haste_: Only the First Great Mind himself can stay The
Fugitives and at one Glance survey; But those whom he disdains not to
befriend, } Uncommon Souls, who nearest Heav'n ascend } Far more, at
once, than others comprehend: } 90 Whate'er within this sacred Hall
you find, } Whate'er will
lodge in your capacious Mind } Let Judgment
sort, and skilful Method bind; } And as from these you draw your
antient Store Daily supply the Magazine with more. Furnish'd with
such Materials he'll excel Who when he works is sure to work 'em
_well_; This ART alone, as Nature that bestows, And in Perfection
both, th' accomplish'd Verser knows. Knows to persuade, and how to
speak, and when; 100 The Rules of Life, and Manners knows and
_Men_: Those narrow Lines which Good and Ill divide; [Sidenote:
Learning.] And by what Balance Just and Right are try'd: How
_Kindred-Things_ with Things are closely join'd; } How Bodies act,

and by what Laws confin'd, } Supported, mov'd and rul'd by th'
Universal Mind. } When the moist Kids or burning Sirius rise; }
Through what ambiguous Ways Hyperion flies, } And marks our
Upper or the Nether Skies. } He knows those Strings to touch with
artful Hand 110 Which rule Mankind, and all the World command:
What moves the Soul, and every secret Cell Where _Pity, Love_, and
all the Passions dwell. The Music of his Verse can Anger raise, Which
with a softer Stroak he smooths and _lays_: Can _Emulation, Terror_,
all excite, Compress the Soul with Grief, or swell with vast Delight. If
this you can, your Care you'll well bestow, And some new Milton or a
Spencer grow; If not, a Poet ne'er expect to be, 120 Content to Rime,
like _D----y_ or like me.
But here perhaps you'll stop me, and complain, To such Impracticable
Heights I strain A Poet's Notion, that if This be He, There ne'er was one,
nor e'er is like