2 Mr. Good on the Epic Poems of Germany. 
tal MiLTOn, is not merely rendered into 
Englifh in one individual and moft 
wretched profe verfion alone, but even 
this, a verfion that comprifes but three 
parts out of the four, and totally omits 
the fublime and tranfcendert peripetia of 
our Saviour’s afcenfion into Heaven. 
Sir Herbert Croft, who appears to have 
the honour of an intimate acquaintance 
with the venerable Klopftok, informed the 
public about three years.ago, that he wis 
engaged in a metrical verfion of the Meffi- 
as, and that under the immediate eye of the 
author himfelf. But the hexameter metre 
he has chofen, although advantageoufly 
émployed in the original, is not, I think, 
likely to meet with many patrons among 
Englifh readers ; nor is there any neceflity, 
of which I am aware, for deviating from 
the common heroic meafure which has 
been almoft uniformly appropriated to epic 
poetry in this country fince the epoch of 
Milton. Nothing, however, having been 
circulated through the republic of letters 
concerning the progrefs of this verfion of 
Sir Herbert’s fince the above period, I am 
afraid he has alrogether relinquifhed his 
defign, and that the Homer of Germany is 
yet doomed to remain without the honour, 
to which he is fo jultly entitled, of an 
adequate and complete Englifh dre{s. 
In the perufal of this excellent epic 
poem, I have myfelf occafionally tranflated 
paflages, as I proceeded, for my own 
private amufement; incited either by their 
own inherent beauty, or for a comparifon 
with paflages in the Paradife Loft, to 
which they bore a manife(t allufion. I 
will clofe this letter with a felection of two 
of thefe; not with a view of inducing 
your reader ¢to fuppofe that I have any 
intention myfelf of offering a verfion of 
the Meffias at any period, but rather of 
ftimulating others who may have more 
leifure and ampler powers to engage in the 
undertaking: an undertaking which, were 
I able to atchicve it tomy own fatisfaétion, 
I am completely prevented from attempt- 
ing by literary Jabours of another de- 
fcription, that will, for a long time, ab- 
forb the whole of my leifure hours. 
The following paflage compr:fes the 
exordium of the third book ; and I feleét it 
for acomparifon with the exordium of the 
third book of the Parapiseé Lost, cun- 
taining the Englifh bard’s celebrated in- 
vocation to Light. Both poets have antece- 
dently vihied the region of apoftate fpirits ; 
delineated their fituation, defcribed their 
chiefs, and pointed out their object, and 
both are congratulating themfelves upon 
their efcape from thofe ** doleful fhades,” 
[Auguft 1, 
and their fafe arrival within the boundaries 
of the wifible diurnal fphere. If Milton 
be fuperior to Klopftok, in dignity and 
ftrength of nerve, and in the happy appli- 
cation of his own peculiar misfortune of 
blindnefs; there is, neverthelefs, a footh- 
ing melancholy, a plaintive tendernefs in 
the latter, which is uniformly charaéter- 
iftic of his poetry, and which, in the origi- 
nal at leaft, can never fail of arrefting the 
attention, and ftrongly interefting the heart. 
Sey mir geerufst! ich fehe dich wieder! die 
du mich gebahreft, 
Erde! mein mitterlich land: die du mich in 
kihlendem fchoofie 
Einft bey den {chlafenden, &c. 
Once more [ hail thee, once behold thee 
more. 
Earth? foil maternal: thee, whofe womb, 
of yore, 
Bore me; and foon beneath whofe gelid 
breaft 
Thefe limbs fhall fink in foft and facred ref. 
Yet may I firit complete this work begun, 
And fing the covenant of th” Erernat Son! 
O, then, thefe lips his heavenly love that told, 
Thefe eyes that oft in ftreams of rapture 
roil’d, 
Shall clofe in darknefs !—o’er my mouldering 
cla 
A few fond friends their duteous rites fhali pays 
And with the palm, the laurel’s deathleifs leaf, 
Deck my light turf, and prove their pious 
grief !— 
There thall I fleep—till o’er this mortal duft 
Springs, long announc’d, the morning of the 
jutt; 
Then, freth embodied in a purer mould, 
Triumphant rife, and brighter feenes behold. 
Thou ! Mufe of S1on! who with potent fpell! 
Thro’ hell haft led me, and return’d from hell, 
Still fhuddering at the voyage—-thou, whofe 
eyes 
Gir ewes the thoughts in God himfelf that 
rife, 
And, thro’ the frown that veils his awful face, 
Read the fair lines of love and heavenly 
graces— 
Shine on this foul, that trembles at the fight 
Of her own toils, with pure, celeftial light ! 
Raife her low powers, that yet with loftier 
wing 
The beft of men, the Saviour Gop, the fing. 
The paffage that follows is of a com- 
plexion totally different, and may evince 
the powers of the poet to embellith his 
hiftorical narration by the judicious intro- 
duStion of appropriate fimilies. Satan, 
who had afcended from hel! to atchieve, if 
poffible, the deftru@tion of the Meffias, fe- 
cretes himfelf in a cave near the Mount of 
Olives: from the converfation of the guardi- 
an angels of the apoftles with the feraph 
Selia, wantonly denominated Zemia in the 
Englith 
