Rev. William Broome

Mr. Thurston, "To the Rev. Mr. Broom, on the late publication of his Poems" London Journal (6 January 1728).

Forgive the Muse, who, unadorn'd by Art,
Speaks but the Dictates of an honest Heart:
Whose Zeal for Merit may too far extend,
For sometimes 'tis Presumption to commend;
Yet sure, to Thee in grateful Praise, will join
Each Friend, and Follower of the Tuneful Nine.
The Grecian Bard, by thy assisting Hand,
Revives and reigns the Laureat of our Land;
Our curious Fair with deep Attention read
What Lives the ancient Ladies us'd to lead;
Perhaps to imitate Them may begin,
And learn from chaste ANDROMOCHE to spin:
Ev'n Beaux can boldly now of HOMER speak,
And tell Us — He's translated from the Greek.

Nor here our Wonder, or our Praise, must end,
To nobler Themes thy tow'ring Thoughts ascend.
From lofty Paran, when describ'd by Thee,
JEHOVA'S Progress, while we read, we see.
View loaded Mountains as He moves adore,
And seem to hear th' attending Thunders roar.

'Tis thine in ev'ry Way the Soul to move,
Sink into Fears, of soften into Love;
Alternate Passions at thy Call arise,
Or Rage the Heart, or Sorrow fills the Eyes:
Accept this needless, vain Attempt to praise,
Sincere my Mind, tho' impotent my Lays.

As when a Crowd some Patriot Prince surrounds,
And roars Applauses in unpolish'd Sounds,
Convinc'd that Rudeness was for Duty meant,
He takes the homely Tribute with Content.