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The Champion too! and, to complete the jest,
Old Edward's Armour beams on Cibber's breaft.
With laughter sure Democritus had dy'd, 320
Had he beheld an Audience gape so wide.
Let Bear or : Elephant be e'er so white,
The people, sure, the people are the sight!
Ah luckless - Poet! stretch thy lungs and roar,
That Bear or Elephant shall heed thee more; 325
While all its i throats the Gallery extends,
And all the Thunder of the Pit ascends!
Loud as the Wolves, on k Orcas' stormy steep,
Howl to the roarings of the Northern deep.
Such is the shout, the long-applauding note,

330
At Quin's high plume, or Oldfield's ' petticoat;
Or when from Court a birth-day suit bestow'd,
Sinks the m loft Actor in the tawdry load.
Booth enters-hark! the Universal peal!
“ But has he spoken?” Not a syllable.

335
What shook the stage, and made the people stare ?
* Cato's long Wig, flow'r'd gown, and lacquer'd chair.

Yet lest you think I railly more than teach, ,
Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,

Notes. contention, the Armour of one of the Kings of England was borrowed from the Tower, to dress the Champion. p.

VER. 328. Orcas' stormy steep.] The farthest Northern Promontory of Scotland, opposite to the Orcades. P.

Ille per extentum funem mihi possewidetur

Ire poeta ; meum qui pectus inaniter angit,

Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.

?

? Verum age, et his, qui se lettori credere malunt,

Quam spectatoris fastidia ferre superbi,

Curam impende brevem : fi 9 munus Apolline dignam

Vis complere libris; et vatibus addere calcar,

Ut ftudio majore petant Heliçona virentem.

Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetac,

(Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum

* Solicito damus, aut felo: cum laedimur, * unum

Notes.

VER. 347. To Thebes, to Athens, etc.) i. e. is equally knowing in the manners of the most different people ; and has the kill to employ those m ers with decorum.

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Let me for once prefume t'instruct the times, 340
To know the Poet from the Man of rhymes :
'Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Passion that he feigns;
Inrage, compose, with more than magic Art,
With Pity, and with Terror, tear my heart; 345
And snatch me, o'er the earth, or thro' the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.

P But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deserves the favour of the Great :
Think of those Authors, Sir, who would rely 350
More on a Reader's sense, than Gazer's eye.
Or who shall wander where the Muses fing?
Who climb their mountain, or who taste their spring?
How shall we fill 9 a Library with Wit,
When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet? 355

My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought,
I guess; and, with their leave, will tell the fault:
We' Poets are (upon a Poet's word)
Of all mankind, the creatures most absurd :
The s season, when to come, and when to go, 360
To fing, or cease to fing, we never know;

Notes. Ver. 354. a Library] Munus Apolline dignum. The Palatine Library then building by Augustus. P.

Ver. 355. Merlin's Cave] A Building in the Royal Garden of Richmond, where is a small, but choice Collection of Books. P.

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Si quis amicorum est ausus reprendere versum:
Cum loca jam 'recitata revolvimus irrevocati :
Cum lamentamur non apparere labores
Noftros, et tenui deducta poemata fila;
Cum * speramus eo rem venturam, ut, fimul atque
Carmina rescieris nos fingere, commodus ultro
Arceffas, et egere vetes, et fcribere cogas.
Sed tamen est opcrae precium cognoscere, quales
Aedituos habeat belli spectata domique
Virtus, ? indigno non committenda poetae.

* Gratus Alexandro regi Magnò fuit ille
Choerilus, incultis qui versibus et male natis
Rettulit acceptos, regale numisma, Philippos.
Sed veluti tractata notam labemque remittunt
Atramenta, fere fcriptores carmine feedo
Splendida facta linunt. idem rex ille, poema
Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit,
Edicto vetuit, ne quis fe praeter Apellem
Pingeret, aut alius Lyfippo duceret aera
Fortis Alexandri vultum fimulantia. quod fi
Judicium subtile videndis artibus illud
Ad libros et ad haec Mufarum dona vocares ;
· Boeotum in crasso jurares aere natum.

And if we will recite nine hours in ten,
You lose your patience, just like other men.
Then too we hurt ourselves, when to defend
A single verse, we quarrel with a friend ; 365
Repeat' unalk'd; lament, the " Wit's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out ev'ry line.
But most, when straining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epistles to the King ;
And * from the moment we oblige the town,

370
Expect a place, or pension from the Crown;
Or dubb’d Historians by express command,
T'enroll your triumphs o'er the seas and land,
Be call'd to Court to plan fome work divine,
As once for Louis, Boileau and Racine. 375

Yet think, great Sir! (fo many Virtues shown) Ah think, what Poet beft may make them known? Or chuse at least fome Minister of Grace, Fit to bestow the 2 Laureat's weighty place.

a Charles, to late times to be transmitted fair, 380 Affign'd his figure to Bernini's care; And great Nafsau to Kneller's hand decreed To fix him graceful on the bounding Steed; So well in paint and stone they judg'd of merit: But Kings in Wit may want discerning Spirit. 385 The Hero William, and the Martyr Charles, One knighted Blackmore, and one pension’d Quarles; Which made old Ben, and furly Dennis swear, “ No Lord's anointed, but a Russian Bear.

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