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VERSES TO MR. RICHARDSON, ON HISTORY OF CHARLES GRANDISON, by                    
First Line: Long the loose wits of a degenerate age
Last Line: The hero's laurel, and the maiden's flower.
Subject(s): Richardson, Samuel (1689-1761)


LONG the loose wits of a degenerate age
Had filled with ribaldry the venal page,
Scorned all restraints of virtue or of shame,
And raised the titled prostitute to fame:
Their idle novels, thus the public pest,
Effused their bane, and poisoned every breast.
Thou, zealous friend of long insulted truth,
Didst first appear the guardian of our youth;
'Twas thine a juster lesson to impart,
To move the passions, and to mend the heart.
Bright Pamela, in native beauty dressed,
Then burst upon the world, a welcome guest;
Each fair one read, with emulation fired,
All joyed to imitate what all admired.
Nor here, great mind, thy moral labours end:
Through life's wide round successive works extend,
From tale to tale the mighty plan pursue,
And raise new scenes before the unwearied view.
Here, blessed with mind, with fortune, and with face,
The virgin falls, but falls without disgrace;
Touched with the woes her suffering virtue felt,
The generous kindle, and the tender melt.
In distant times, when Fones and Booth are lost,
Britannia her Clarissa's name shall boast.
Yet take from grateful worlds the present wreath,
Nor owe thy garland to the hand of death;
Even now not rocks nor waves thy fame can bound,
The Rhine's rude banks Clarissa's worth resound;
And Tuscan bards her mournful tale relate,
In groves where Virgil sung of Dido's fate.
As where the Alps in awful grandeur rise,
And mix their hoary summits with the skies,
All Nature's power exhausted in the past
We think, but still the greatest is the last:
Thus every mind Clarissa's tomes revered,
Great work of art, till Grandison appeared.
The firm and kind, the daring and polite,
To form one character, in one unite;
So highly finished, and so well designed,
It charms with every grace of every mind.
In Byron all the softer beauties shine,
But heavenly Clementina's worth be mine;
At her distress each maid shall drop a tear,
Each pious maid her firm resolve revere,
Deplore her woes, and emulate her soul,
And learn from her their passions to control.
Thus, in each character new beauties shine,
And fresh instruction flows in every line.
Thou sweet preceptor of the rising age,
Let still another work thy thoughts engage;
Proceed to teach, thy labours ne'er can tire,
Thou still must write, and we must still admire.
O long may bounteous Nature bid thee live,
Good to bestow, and honour to receive;
And when at fate's mild call, replete with praise,
Thou goest to join the great of ancient days,
Thy dust shall emblematic shades embower,
The hero's laurel, and the maiden's flower.





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