Classic Poem

Forgive great Sir, this bold Essay
Your Merits to disclose;
My first Intentions were to pay
Our grateful Thanks in Prose:
But then the chiming Muse drew near,
And cry'd, the Work belong'd to her;
Tho' soon her rash Attempt she saw,
As hasty then her Service to withdraw;
Too weak her Wings to soar so high,
Yet too desirous, not to try.
When Lo!
Great Dryden's Muse appear'd,
And with maternal Looks her drooping Spirits chear'd,
Fate's Secrets then she did reveal,
And charg'd she should obey
What Inspiration made her say,
And not the Least conceal.
Each Word she spoke new Vigour did infuse,
And with fresh Strength she imp'd the languid Muse,
So gen'rous Garth!
When he appear'd Disease retir'd with Shame,
And Caesar-like he saw, and overcame.