Short Poems

Art may imitate life, and a bard may quicken our instincts;
But the appeal of a soul only Polymnia knows.

If thy work and deeds are not attractive to all men,
Try to attract the few:—folly to humour a crowd.

So it has always been, my friend, and will be for ever:
Feebleness works by rule; vigour achieves a result.

Free from blame to appear is at once the meanest and highest;
It is achieved by the great and by the feeble alone.

Why are taste and genius only so rarely united?
Taste is afraid of strength, genius hates to be held.

All without and within mankind would eagerly fathom;
Truth, canst thou escape from this insatiable lust?
Nets they spread and snares in hopes thy feet to entangle;
But thy spectral tread every effort eludes.

How does Genius stamp its presence? Why, as the Creator
With His presence adorns Nature and infinite space.
Clear is the ether above, and yet 'tis a measureless ocean,
Eye may see it indeed, but the intelligence fails.

Good from good to extract—that lies in the power of all men;
Good to derive from ill Genius only achieves.
Only on what is achieved 'tis worth to found imitations;
What is original pleads only to natures inspired.

Sense can adapt indeed what has already existence;
That which Nature has built can in a copy create.
But to reason in space is Nature amenable only.
Genius only can Nature in Nature abet.

Fable endowed her life, by later learning arrested;
But to an active life reason attracts her anew.