The Poetical Works of Mark Akenside; Collated with the Best Editions (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1808. Excerpt: ... ODES. BOOK II. REMONSTRANCE OF SHAKSPEARE: Supposed to have been spoken at the Theatre Royal, zohilc the French Comedians were acting by Subscription. 1749. If, yet regardful of yonr native land, Old Shakspeare'a tongue you deign to understand, Lo, from the blissful bowers where Heaven rewards Instructive sages and unblemish'd bards, I come, the ancient founder of the stage, Intent to learn, in this discerning age, What form of wit your fancies have embrae'd, And whither tends your elegance of taste, That thus at length our homely toils you spurn, That thus to foreign scenes you proudly turn, That from my brow the laurel wreath you claim To crown the rivals of your country's fame. What, though the footsteps of my devious Muse The measur'd walks of Grecian art refuse r Or though the frankness of my hardy style Mock the nice touches of the critic's file? Yet, what my age and climate held to view, Impartial I survey'd, and fearless drew. And say, ye skilful in the human heart, Who know to prize a poet's noblest part, What age, what clime, could e'er an ampler field For lofty thought, for daring fancy, yield? I saw this England break the shameful bands Forg'd for the souls of men by sacred hands: I saw each groaning realm her aid implore; Her sons the heroes of each warlike shore: Her naval standard (the dire Spaniard's bane) Obey'd through all the circuit of the main. Then too great Commerce, for a late-found world, Around your coast her eager sails unfurl'd: New hopes, new passions, thence the bosom fir'd; New plans, new arts, the genius thence inspir'd; Thence every scene, which private fortune knows, In stronger life, with bolder spirit, rose. Disgrac'd I this fiill prospect which I drew? My colours languid, or my strokes untrue? Have not your sages, warr...