ot decline with his years, but that he was an improving writer
to his last, even to near seventy years of age, improving even in
fire and imagination, as well as in judgment; witness his Ode on St
Cecilia's Day, and his Fables, his latest performances.

He was equally excellent in verse and in prose. His prose had all the
clearness imaginable, together with all the nobleness of expression;
all the graces and ornaments proper and peculiar to it, without
deviating into the language or diction of poetry. I make this
observation, only to distinguish his style from that of many poetical
writers, who, meaning to write harmoniously in prose, do, in truth,
often write mere blank verse.

I have heard him frequently own with pleasure, that if he had any
talent for English prose, it was owing to his having often read the
writings of the great Archbishop Tillotson.

His versification and his numbers he could learn of no body; for he
first possessed those talents in perfection in our tongue. And they,
who have best succeeded in them since his time, have been indebted
to his example; and the more they have been able to imitate him, the
better have they succeeded.

As his style in prose is always specifically different from his
style in poetry, so, on the other hand, in his poems, his diction is,
wherever his subject requires it, so sublimely and so truly poetical,
that its essence, like that of pure gold, cannot be destroyed. Take
his verses and divest them of their rhymes, disjoint them in their
numbers, transpose their expressions, make what arrangement and
disposition you please of his words, yet shall there eternally be
poetry, and something which will be found incapable of being resolved
into absolute prose; an incontestible characteristic of a truly
poetical genius.

I will say but one word more in general of his writings, which is,
that what he has done in any one species, or distinct kind, would have
been sufficient to have acquired him a great name. If he had written
nothing but his prefaces, or nothing but his songs or his prologues,
each of them would have entitled him to the preference and distinction
of excelling in his kind.

But I have forgot myself; for nothing can be more unnecessary than an
attempt to say any thing to your Grace in commendation of the writings
of this great poet; since it is only to your knowledge, taste, and
approbation of them, that the monument, which you are now about to
raise to him, is