When Oxford saw in her Radclivian dome Greek skill and Roman rivall'd here at home, Wond'ring she stood, till one judicious spark Address'd the crowd, and made this sage remark,— "The most unlicens'd plagiary,—this Gibbs! "Nothing in all his pile but what he cribs. "The ground he builds upon is not his own; "I know the quarry whence he had his stone, "The forest too where all his timber grow'd, "The forge in which his fused metals flow'd;— "Slightly survey the edifice intire, "'Tis all a borrow'd work from base to spire." Thus with our epic architect he deals, Who says that Milton in his poem steals; Steals, if he will;—"but without license?" No; Pedlars in verse unmeaningly do so. Him Phœbus licens'd; and the Muses nine Help'd the rare thief to raise up A DESIGN. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WILDERNESS TRANSFORMED by PHILIP DODDRIDGE A NET TO SNARE THE MOONLIGHT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY MOST LOVELY SHADE; FOR ALICE BOUVERIE by EDITH SITWELL AN APRIL MORNING by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE LAST RAFT by JOSEPH V. ADAMS |