Ambrose Philips

Anonymous, "To Mr. Ph—ps, on his late Poetry in Ireland" London Journal (20 November 1725).

London, Nov. 15.
I have just received the following Verses from Ireland, and as you printed Mr. Ph—s's, I hope you will be impartial enough to give these a Place also in your Paper; in doing which you'll oblige several of your Readers, and particularly,
Yours, &c.

Gentle Poet, Brother Swain,
I have read thy tuneful Strain;
I have heard, and I admire,
The soft Musick of thy Lyre;
And thy Verse, inspiring Pleasure,
Tripping on in easy Measure;
And thy pretty, swimming Metre,
Sweeter every Line and sweeter.

Where the Liffy meets the Main,
Whoe'er read so soft a Strain?
Whoe'er read, or whoe'er heard
Such a smooth, harmonious Bard?
Such a glib, poetick Medley?
They who've read thy Pattern, Sm—dley.

But, O Poet! but O Brother!
Author of Distress—ed Mother;
Poet Irish, Poet English,
(For I will not here distinguish)
Thus thou may'st from Morn to Night,
Volumes fluently indite;
Thus Thou may'st from Youth to Prime,
Verses tag with easy Rhime;
Thus Thou may'st, from Prime to Age,
In the self-same Art engage,
Without Pumping, without Trouble,
Jingling on, Hub-Bubble-Bubble;
Thus Thou may'st, with Crambo's clever,
Rhime and Chime, and Rhime for ever.