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 This, were Arcadia judge, if Pan withstood, Pan ' s judge Arcadia would condemn her god.


 * tho' our fond indulgence grants the muse,

A thousand liberties in diff'rent views; When e'erWhene'er [sic] you chuse an image to express In foreign terms, and scorn the native dress, Yet be discreet; nor strain the point too far, Let the transition still unforc'd appear, Nor e'er discover an excess of care; For some we know with aukwardawkward [sic] violence Distort the subject, and disjoint the sense; Quite change the genuine figure, and deface The native shape with ev'ry living grace; And force unwilling objects to put on An alien face, and features not their own. A low conceit in disproportion'd terms, Is like a boy dress'd up in giantsgiant's [sic] arms; Blind to the truth, all reason they exceed, Who name a stall, the palace of the steed, Or grass the tresses of great Rhæa's head. 'Tis