The Wesleys must be somewhat bigger,
Eer they attempt to “soar, or figure,”
Neither is yet so great a Ninny
To view with Giants, or Giardini:
They now, content to be unknown,
Compare, prefer themselves to none;
None they depreciate, or despise,
Or seek by Others’ fall to rise:
Nor friends nor foes do they offend;
With no Competitors contend,
(Whose clashing interests interfere)
For Organ, School, or Theatre:
They sue not for the public graces,
Pensions, or Benefits, or Places,
Nor to remoter countries roam,
But study quietly at home,
Unseen, unnotic’d, and unheard,
While Music is its own reward:
Their warmest wish (If that coud be)
With all of the same trade t’ agree,
Into their friendly arms to take,
And love them all for Music’s sake.
Why then shoud the Professors aim
To vilify so mean a name,
To crush, and nip them in the bud
(If talents are on them bestowed)
And clip their wings, before they try
Whither the callow birds can fly?
What pity that the Masters great,
Like the great Turk, their Kin shoud hate,
Envious, at worth, repine and grieve,
Nor let a younger brother live?
Masters of a superior spirit
Nobly rejoice in early Merit;
Worgan can good in striplings see,
And so can Arnold, and Dupuis;
Burney is bold a Crutch to praise,
While Handel’s head he gilds with rays:
True worth impartial he commends
In strangers, countrymen, and friends,
And cherishes the sons of art
All lodg’d in his capacious heart.
O that the tuneful Tribe like Him,
Might excellence in all esteem,
Consent their quarrels to forget,
And candidly each other treat,
With mutual amity receive,
And, Unisons, as brethren live?
O might they all henceforward join
To vindicate their art divine,
And emulate the Quire above
Where all is Harmony and Love!