Critic, hast thou fastidiously proclaim'd (Misjudging from such humble verse as mine) The lyre's lost energy, the sad decline Of genius in this island, early nam'd In classic heraldry, and foremost fam'd? From Greece, from Latium, came th' impatient Nine, Here to revive their laurels, and entwine Their shoots; reward, of envy only blam'd, And here they still rejoice; here still abides Imagination in her mountains strong, While harmony, beneath, her stream divides. And thou wilt blush, vain Critic, for thy wrong, Tasting these sweets, which the Queen-Muse provides, With rarest elegance of sex and song! Markeaton, April 25, 1799.
