Mr.
ADDISON
's FINE ODE TO Dr. Tho. Burnet, &c.
Mr. ADDISON
's FINE ODE TO Dr. Thomas Burnet, On His SACRED THEORY
of the
EARTH. Done into
English
by the Author of a late TALE call'd
COFFEE.
Nec Verbum Verbo curabis reddere, Fidus
Interpres. —
HOR.
LONDON
: Printed for T. WARNER, at the
Black-Boy
in
Pater-Noster-Row.
M.DCC.XXVII.
TO THE KING
and
QUEEN
's
MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTIES.
SIR
and
MADAM!
T HE noble System, of which Mr.
Addison
's incomparable Poem is an exact Miniature; was graciously received, when formerly addressed to a KING and a QUEEN, Your Royal Predecessors. Together with which Gentleman's most elegant Epitome, my faint Copy of it is submissively offered at the Feet of BOTH Your MAJESTIES; that ONE in a well-tasted Dead-language, the OTHER in an obliged and favoured Living-one, may take a summary View of the Place of Your SECOND
Coronation
; in happy Prelude to a THIRD, which Ye are farther to enjoy, in the ultimate and beatific Receptacle of the JUST and GOOD. A presumptuous Wish, that these grand
Revolutions
may, for your People's intermediate Advantage, commence Late, must first ask Pardon; and, on that Dependence, is sincerely professed to be the constant and fervent Prayer, of almost the Privatest amongst
Your
MAJESTIES
Most Unfeigned, most Humble, And most Obedient Subjects.
AD INSIGNISSIMUM VIRUM, D.
THOMAM BURNETTUM,
SACRAE THEORIAE-TELLURIS AUTOREM.
N ON usitatum Carminis alitem,
BURNETTE! poscis; non humiles Modos:
Vulgare Plectrum, languidae
que
Respuis officium Camoenae.
Tu mixta rerûm Semina, conscius,
Molem
que
cernis dissociabilem;
Terram
que
concretam, & latentem
Oceanum Gremiô capaci!
Dùm, Veritatem quaerere pertinax,
Ignota pandis; Sollicitus parúm,
Utcùn
que
stet commune Vulgi
Arbitrium & popularis Error.
Auditur ingens continuò Fragor,
Illapsa Tellus lubrica deserit
Fundamina, & Compage fractâ
Suppositas gravis urget Undas.
Impulsus erumpit medius Liquor,
Terras Aquarum effusa Licentia
Claudit vicissim; Has inter, Orbis
Reliquiae fluitant prioris.
Nunc &, reclusô Carcere, lucidam
Balaena spectat Solis imaginem;
Stellas
que
miratur natantes,
Et tremulae simulacra Lunae.
Quae Pompa vocûm non imitabilis!
Qualis calescit Spiritus ingenî!
Ut tollis Undas! Ut frementem
Diluvii reprimis Tumultum!
Quis tàm valenti Pectore ferreus,
Ut non Tremiscens & timidô Pede
Incedat; Orbis dum dolosi
Detegis instabiles Ruinas?
Quin haec cadentûm Fragmina montium
Natura, Vultum sumere simplicem,
Coget refingens; in priorem
Mox iterùm reditura Formam.
Nimbis rubentem sulphureis Jovem
Cernas! Ut udis saevit atrox Hyems
Incendiis, commune Mundo
Et Populis meditata Bustum!
Nudus liquentes plorat Athos Nives,
Et mox liquescens Ipse adamantinum
Fundit Cacumen; dùm per imas
Saxa fluunt resoluta Valles.
Jàm
que
alta Coeli Moenia corruunt:
Et vestra tandèm Pagina (proh Nefas!)
BURNETTE, Vestra augebit Ignes;
Heu! sociô peritura Mundô.
Mox aequa Tellus, mox subitus Viror
Ubi
que
rident: En teretem Globum!
En laeta vernantis Favonî
Flamina, perpetuos
que
Flores!
O Pectus ingens! O Animum gravem,
Mundi capacem! Si bonus Auguror;
Te, nostra quô Tellus superbit!
Accipiet renovata Civem.
TO
That
GREAT-THINKER, Dr.
THOMAS BURNET,
On His SACRED THEORY
of the
EARTH.
N O usual Flight of Verse,
BURNET! no soft-strung Lyre,
No slack Neap-tide of Wit,
Thy high Demands require:
Thy Physiologic-Ken,
With Justice, may refuse
The insufficient Homage,
Of my Demi-Muse.
Thy curious Eye discerns
Seeds justling Seeds for Room,
The Mud-built Shell, and Seas
Within its spacious Womb.
In gen'rous Search of Truth, Thou feel'st
No mean-soul'd Terror;
Scornful of Doctoral-Device,
Or Vulgar-Error.
But, Hark! the crumbling Crust,
Ill-propp'd, cracks loud asunder:
Mark next! Earth's headlong Plunge,
Amidst the Fluids under.
Imprison'd Waves, disturb'd,
Start from their midland Bed;
And, with impetuous Rage,
O'er their Oppressor spread.
Huge Fragments, shapeless Lumps,
Immanely float around;
Vast, hideous, Shatters
Of primigenial Ground!
The now free-wallowing Whale,
With all the finny Race;
Stare at the Sun, astonish'd
By his golden Face:
The silver Moon and Stars
Then gild the Watry-way,
And on its curling Surface
Tremulously play.
How strong thy Words! What must we
Thy Large-Genius call?
No Copy can come Up,
To thy Original.
Whence was the first Discov'ry,
Of thy Nostrum, made?
To bar again such Flood-gates,
When once Open laid!
What Fears, what Jealousies,
Distract the thoughtful Head?
Since taught by Thee! our Feet
On faithless Ruins tread.
But still! this Rubbish, rescu'd
From Diluvian-Fate;
Kind Providence restores,
To it's primeval State.
Lo! the Grand-Architect,
In secondary Ire;
With alter'd Scheme refines
A Globe relaps'd, by Fire.
From His consuming Torch;
This just Vindictive brings,
Inclusively, one Fun'ral-Pile
To Men and Things.
The lofty'st Alp, at first,
Griev'd for it's dripping Ice;
Gutt'ring, at last, It-Self
A molten Quarry lies.
And Now pour ratling-down,
In furious Career!
The sympathizing Rampiers
Of the Atmosphere:
Thunder, and Lightning, Lambents,
Hail, Wind, Rain, and Snow;
With all th' aspiring Train,
Of Meteors from below.
Into the common Blaze,
Then will thy TOMES be hurl'd;
Impossible to fail,
Till jointly with the World!
Here shifts the Scene; Now cease
All sublunary Toils;
On a re-level'd Orb,
A sudden Verdure smiles!
A constant Equinox maintains
Perpetual Spring,
And virtuous Minds Ideas
Of Contentment sing.
The Architect well-pleas'd,
While West-winds balm the Air,
Desists; and lastly says: Behold!
The Work is Fair.
What now, Immense Cosmographer!
To Thee is due?
Distanc'd I stop; — But, if
My Prophecy be true:
There Paradise-regain'd,
Unknowing Care or Want;
Shall, like our Earth, be proud
Of Thee it's Habitant.
And may'st Thou there in
pure
Devotions join,
With glorious GEORGE, and beauteous CAROLINE!
WHO, far as the
Materials
will bear,
Labour to constitute an EDEN here;
By
steadily
bestowing their
Commands,
On
best-computing
Heads, and
best-performing
Hands.
FINIS.