Euterpe, the Lyric Muse, by Mrs J. E. Euterpe, of course, pours forth her sorrow in a scrambling Pindaric ode:
But, oh! they could not stand the rage
Of an ill-natured and lethargic age,
Who, spite of wit, would stupidly be wise;
All noble raptures, extasies despise,
And only plodders after sense will prize.
Euterpe eulogizeth
Garth, whom the god of wisdom did foredoom,
And stock with eloquence, to pay thy tomb
The most triumphant rites of ancient Rome.
Euterpe is true to her own character; for one may plod in vain after sense through her lyric effusion.
Thalia, the Comic Muse, by Mrs Manley. A pastoral dialogue betwixt Alexis, Daphne, Aminta, and Thalia. After the usual questions concerning the cause of sorrow, Thalia, invoked by the nymphs and swains, sings a ditty, bearing the following burden:
Bring here the spring, and throw fresh garlands on,
With all the flowers that wait the rising sun;
These ever-greens, true emblems of his soul,
Take, Daphne, these, and scatter through the whole,
While the eternal Dryden’s worth I tell,
My lovely bard, that so lamented fell.
Clio, or the Historic Muse, by Mrs Pix, the authoress of a tragedy called “Queen Catharine, or the Ruins of Love.”
Stop here, my muse, no more thy office boast,
This drop of praise is in an ocean lost;
His works alone are trumpets of his fame,
And every line will chronicle his name.
Calliope, the Heroic Muse, by Mrs C. Trotter. This is the best of these pieces. Calliope complains, that she is more unhappy than her sisters of the sock and buskin, still worshipped successfully by Vanburgh and Granville, in the epic province: