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Some fam'd for Numbers soft and smooth,
By Lovers spoke in Punch's Booth:
And some as juftly Fame extols
For lofty Lines in Smithfield Drolls.
Bavius in Wapping gains Renown,
And Mevius reigas o'er Kentish-Town :
Tigellius, plac'd in Phoebus' Car,
From Ludgate shines to Temple bar.
Harmonious Cibber entertains
The Court with annual Birth-day Strains ;
Whence Gay was banish'd in Disgrace,
Where Pope will never show his Face;
Where r-.... must torture his Invention,
To flatter Knaves, or 1ofe his Penfion.
But there are not a thousandth Part
Of Jobbers in the Poets Art,
Attending each his proper Station,
And all in due Subordination;
Thro' ev'ry Alley to be found,
In Garrets high or under Ground
And when they join their Perioranies,
Out skips a Book of Miscellanies.
Hobbes clearly proves that ev'ry Creature 1'.
Lives in a State of War by Nature.
The Greater for the Smallest watch,' '1'
But meddle feldom with their Match grif,
A Whale of moderate Size will drawi! d. 21.,'
Shole of Herrings down his Maw. IL “D" or A Fox with Geese his Belly crams;
o 905 37" 11 A Wolf destroys a thoufand Lambs 96 But search among the rhiming Race, ...) The Brave are worried by the Bafe. Smois asso If on Parnasus' Top you fit, vos eft in You rarely bite, he always bit: beingrijire si Each Poet of inferior Size
On you shall rail and criticize ; 05.10 194,"; )
And strive to tear you Limb from Limb, un 10,2007€
While others do as much for him.: esu boilit, i
The Vermin only reaze and pinch 1301 1'
Their Foes superior by an Inch.
So, Nat'ralists observe, a Flea !!! ilie i wrote
Hath smaller Fleas that on him prey,
And these have smaller Fleas to bite 'em,
And so proceed ad infinitum :
T hus ev'ry Poet in his Kind,
Is bit by him that comes bebind;
Who, tho' too little to be seen,
Can teaze, and gal},' and give the Spleen;
Call Dunces, Fools, and Sons of Whores,
Lay Grubstreet at each other's Doors:
Extol the Greek and Roman Masters,
And curse our modern Poecasters.
Complain, as many an ancient Bard did,
How Genius is no more rewarded;
How wrong a Talte prevails among us;
How much our Ancestors out-sung us;
Can perfonate an awkard Scorn
For those who are not Poets born:
And all their Brotber Dunces lash,
Who crowd the Press with hourly Trash.
O Grubfreet! how do I bemoan thee,
Whose graceless Children scorn to own thee!
Their filial Piety forgot,
Deny their Country like a Scor:
Tho' by their Idiom and Grimace
They soon betray their native Place:
Yet thou haft greater Cause to be
Atham'd of them than they of thee, :
Degenerate from their ancient Brood,
Since first the Court allow'd them Food.
Remains a Difficulty ftill, 95, 9,4
To purchase Fame by writing ill:
From Flecknoe down to Howard's Time,
How few have reach'd the low Sublime ?
For when our high-born Howard dy'd,
Blackmore alone his place supply'd,
And least a Chasm should intervene,
When Death had finish'd Blackmore's Reign,
The leaden Crown devolv'd to thee,
Great * Poet of the Hollow-Tree.
But, oh, how unsecure thy Throne!
A thousand Bards thy Right disown:
They plot to turn in factious Zeal,
Duncenia to a Commonweal;
And with rebellious Arms pretend
An equal Priv'lege to defcend.
In Bulk there are not more Degrees,"
From Elephants to Mites in Cheese,
Than what a curious Eyć may trace
In Creatures of the rhiming Race.
From bad to worse and worse they fall,
But who can reach the Worlt of all?
For, eno' in Nature Depth and Height
Are equally held infinite,
In Poetry the Height we know;
'Tis only infinite below.
For Instance: When you rathly * think
No Rhymer can like Welfted link.
His Merits ballanc'd you shall find,
That Fielding leaves him far behind.
Concannen, more aspiring Bard,
Climbs downwards, deeper, by a Yard,
Smart Femmy Mour with Vigour drops,
The rest pursue as thick as Hops :
With Heads to Points the Gulph they enter,
Linkt perpendicular to the Center:
And as their Heels elated rise,
Their Heads attempt the nether Skies.
O what Indignity and Shame,
To prostitute the Muses Name,
By Aatt'ring K.-- whom Heav'n design'd
The Plagues and Scourges of Mankind.
Bred up in ignorance and Sloth,
And ev'ry Vice that purses both.
Fair Britain in thy Monarch blest,'
Whofe Virtues bear the ftri&eft Telt!
Whom never Faction cou'd bespatter,
Nor Minister, nor Poet flatter.
What Justice in rewarding Merit!
What Magnanimity of Spirit !
What Lineaments divine we trace
Thro' all the Features of his Face;
Tho' Peace with Olive bind his Hands,
Confest the conqu’ring Hero stands.
Hydafpes, Indus, and the Ganges,
Dread from his Hand impending Changese
From him the Tartar, and Chinese,
Short by the Knees intreat for Peace.
* Vide The Treatist on the Profound, and Mr. Pope's Dunciad.
The Confort of his Throne and Bed,
A perfeat Goddess born and bred;
Appointed fou'reign Judge to fit
On Learning, Eloquence and Wit.
Our eldest Hope, divine Tilus,
(Late, very late, o may he rule us )
What early Manhood has he shown,
Before his downy Beard was grown!
Then think, what Wonders will be done,
By going on as he begun;
An Heir for Britain to secure
As long as Sun and Moon endure.
The Remnant of the Royal Blood
Comes pouring on me like a Flood.;
Bright Goddefles, in Number Five;
Duke William, sweeteft Prince alive!
Now fing the Minister of State,
Who Mines alone, without a Mate.
Obferve with what majestick Port
This Atlas hands to prop the Court:
Intent the Publick Debis to pay,
Like prudent + Fabius, by Delay:
Thou great Vicegerent of the King,
Thy Praises ev'ry Muse shall fing.
In all Affairs thou fole Director,
Of Wit and Learning chief Prote&tor;
Tho'small the Time thou hast to spare,
The Church is thy peculiar Care.
Of pious Prelates what a Stock
You chufe to rule the Sable-flock !
You raise the Honour of the Peerage,
Proud to attend you at the Steerage!
You dignify the Noble Race,
Content yourself with humbler Place.
Now Learning, Valour, Virtue, Sense,
To Tiiles give the sole Pretence.
St. Geurge beheld thee with Delight
Vouch safe to be an azure Knight,
When on thy Breast and Sides Herculean,
He fixt the Star and String Cerulean.
Say, Poet, in what other Nation
Shone ever such a Constellation.
+Uaus Homo nobis Cunaenda reftituit remi
Attend ye Popes, and Youngs, and Gays,
And tune your Harps, and Itrow your Bays.
Your Panegyricks here provide,
You cannor erron Flatt'ry's Side.
Above the Stars exalt your Stile,
You still are low ten thousand Mile.
On Lewis all his Bards bestow'd,
Of Incense many a thousand Load;
But Europe mortify'd his Pride,
And swore the fawning Rascals ly’d:
Yet what the World refus'd to Lewis,
Apply'd to exa&ly true is:
Exa&ly true! Invidious Poet!
'Tis fifty thousand Times below it.
Translate menow some Lines, if you can,
From Virgil, Martial, Ovid, Lucas;
They could all Pow'r in Heaven divide,
And do no Wrong to either Side:
They'll teach you how to split a Hair,
and Fove an equal Share.
Yet, why should we be Jac'd lo strait;
I'll give iny * **** Butter-weight.
And Realon good; for many a Year
never intermeddi'd here: Nor, tho' his Priests be duly paid, Did ever we defire his Aid: We now can better do without him, Since Woolfton gave us Arms to rout him. ***** Cætera defiderantur *****
* Divisum Imperium cum Jove Cæfar habet.