Studious and bent to shun the common way,
They skulk in darkness, and abhor the day.
Oh! may the sacred nine inspire my lays,
To shine with pride in their own native rays;
For this we need not importune the skies,
In our own pow'r and will the blessing lies.
Expression, boundless in extent, displays,
A thousand forms, a thousand several ways,
In different hues from different quarters brought,
It makes unnumber'd dresses for a thought;
Such vast varieties of ways we find,
To paint conception, and unfold the mind.
If e'er you toil, but toil without success,
To give your images a shining dress;
Quit your pursuit, and chuse a different way
'Till breaking forth, the voluntary ray
Cuts the thick darkness, and lets down the day.
Since then a thousand forms you may pursue,
A thousand figures rising to the view,
Unless confin'd and streighten'd in your scheme,
With the short limits of a scanty theme,
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