The mere fanatics, and enthusiasts in poetry,
(For schismatics in that, as in religion be)
Who make't all revelation, trance, and dream;
Let them despise her laws, and think
That rules and forms the spirit stint:
Thine was no mad, unruly frenzy of the brain,
Which justly might deserve the chain,
'Twas brisk, and mettled, but a managed rage,
Sprightly as vigorous youth, and cool as temperate age:
Free, like thy will, it did all force disdain,
But suffered reason's loose and easy rein,
By that it suffered to be led,
Which did not curb poetic liberty, but guide;
Fancy, that wild and haggard faculty,
Untamed in most, and let at random fly,
Was wisely governed, and reclaimed by thee;
Restraint and discipline was made endure,
And by thy calm and milder judgment brought to lure;
Yet when 'twas at some nobler quarry sent,
With bold and towering wings it upward went,
Not lessened at the greatest height,
Not turned by the most giddy flights of dazzling wit.
4
Made up the character of thy great mind;
That, like a bright and glorious sphere,
Appeared with numerous stars embellished o'er,
And much of light to thee, and much of influence bore;
This, was the strong intelligence, whose power
Turned it about, and did the unerring motions steer;
Concurring both, like vital seed and heat,
The noble births they jointly did beget,
And hard 'twas to be thought,
Which most of force to the great generation brought.
