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jIf then a blind, well-meaning, Indian stray,
For better ends our kind Redeemer dy'de
Or the faln angels room will be but ill supply'd.
That Christ, who at the great deciding day, E goneNaves, you
(he declares what resolves to say) Le free, impartial men, from Dryden learn
And save the sheep for actions, cot for thoughts,
Hath too much mercy to fend men to tieli,
For huinble charity, and loping well.
To what fupidity are zealots grown, What can you (Reverend Lei) here cake ill? dien still had faults, and men will have them ftill; In camning crowds of souls, may damn their own.
Whose inhumanity prolujely shown
I'll err at least on the securer side,
A convert free tiom malice and from pride.
TO MY FRIEND, MR. JOHN DRYDEN,
ON HIS SEVERAL EXCELLENT TRANSLATIONI What then have thinking lionest men to do, But chufe a mean between th' usurping two? Nor can th' Aisyptian patriarch Hame thy muse, BY G. GRANVILLE, LORD LANSDOWNI. Which for his fi-inness does his heat excuse; Whare er councils have approv'd his creed,
S fiowers transplanted from a southern sky, The preface fure was his own act and deed. Our church will have that preface read, you'll say: Milling their native sun, at test retain 'Tis true: bur fo she will th' Apocrypha; But a faint odour, and shirvive with pain : And such as can believe them, freely may. Thus arc ent wit, in modern numbers taughty ? But did that Goi (folittle understood)
Wanting the warmth with which its author wrote, Whole darling attribute is being food,
Is a dead image, and a fenfclefs draught.
Whence we conclude from thy translated song, In that sad place from whence is no retur,
So joit, so smooth, so soft, and yet so Itrong, For urtelief in ore they seer krew,
Celestial poet ! soul of harmony ! Or for rot doing what they could not do! That every genius was reviv'd in thee, The very fiends krow for what crime they felly Thy trumpet sounds, the dead are rais’d to light, And so do all their followers that rebel :
Never to die, and take to heaven their fichi;