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When this Heroics only deigns to praise,
Sharp Satire that, and that Pindaric lays ?
One likes the Pheasant's wing, and one the leg ;
The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg ;
Hard talk! to hit the palate of such guests,
When Oldfield loves, what Dartineuf detests.

But grant I may relapfe, for want of grace,
Again to rhime; can London be the place?
Who there his Muse, or self, or soul attends,

90 In crouds, and courts, law, business, feasts, and

friends! My counsel sends to execute a deed : A Poet begs me, I will hear him read: In Palace-yard at nine you'll find me thereAt ten for certain, Sir, in Bloomsb’ry square- 95 Before the Lords at twelve Cause There's a Rehearsal, Sir, exact at one. " Oh but a Wit can study in the streets, 66 And raise his mind above the mob he meets.” Not quite so well however as one ought ;

100 A hackney coach may chance to spoil a thought; And then a nodding beam, or pig of lead, God knows, may hurt the very ableft head.


comes on

Notes. as intimating that the demand for verse is only a species of luxury.

Tristia robustis luctantur funera plauftris :

Hac rabiosa fugit canis, hac lutulenta ruit sus.

k I nunc, et versus tecum meditare canoros.

Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, et fugit urbes,

Rite cliens Bacchi, somno gaudentis et umbra.

Tu me inter ftrepitus nocturnos atque diurnos

Vis canere, et contracta sequi vestigia vatum?

Ingenium, fibi quod vacuas desumsit Athenas,

Et ftudiis annos feptem dedit, insenuitque

Libris et curis, ftatua taciturnius exit

Plerumque, et rifu populum quatit: hic ego rerum

Fluctibus in mediis, et tempeftatibus urbis,


VER. 104. Have you not feen, etc.] The satirical pleafantry of this image, and the kumourous manner of representing it, raises the imitation, in this place, far above the original.

VER. 113. Would drink and doze, etc.) This has not the delicacy, or elegant ambiguity of,

Rite cliens Bacohi, somno gaudentis et umbra. .



Have you not feen, at Guild-hall's narrow pass,
Two Aldermen dispute it with an Ass?

105 And Peers give way, exalted as they are, Ev'n to their own S-r-V--nce in a Car?

Go, lofty Poet! and in such a croud, Sing thy sonorous verse--but not aloud. Alas! to Grotto's and to Groves we run, To ease and silence, ev'ry Muse's son Blackmore himself, for any grand effort, Would drink and doze at Tooting or Earl's-Court. How thall I rhime in this eternal roar? How match the bards whom none e'er match'd before? | The Man, who, stretch'd in Ifis' calm retreat, 116 To books and study gives sev'n years compleat, See ! ftrow'd with learned duft, his night-cap on, He walks, an object new beneath the fun! The boys flock round him, and the people stare: So ftiff, so mute! fome ftatue you would swear, Stept from its pedestal to take the air ! And here, while town, and court, and city roars, With mobs, and duns, and soldiers, at their doors;

Notes. where the intemperance of Poets is not the obvious, but the Secret meaning. For Bacchus was the patron of the Drama as well as of the Bottle; and sleep was courted for inspiration, as well as to relieve a debauch.

Ibid. Tooting Earl's Court.] Two villages within a few miles of London. P.

Ver. 124. With mobs, and duns, and soldiers at their


Verba lyrae motura fonum connectere digner ?

* Frater erat Romae consulti rhetor ; ut alter

Alterius sermone meros audiret honores :

Gracchus ut hic illi foret, huic ut Mucius ille.

Quî minus argutos vexat furor iste poetas?

* Carmina compono, hic elegos; mirabile visu,

Caelatumque novem Mufis opus. afpice primum,

Quanto cum faftu, quanto molimine circum

spectemus vacuam Romanis vatibus aedem,

Mox etiam (fi forte vacas) fequere, et procul audi,

Quid ferat, et quare fibi nectat uterque coronam.

Caedimur, et totidem plagis consumimus hoftem,

Notes. doors ;] The licence, luxury, and mutiny of an opulent city are not ill described.

Ver. 132. And foook bis bead at Murray, as a Wit.] It is the filly consolation of blockheads in all professions, that he, whom Nature has formed to excell, does it not by his superior knowledge, but his wit; and so they keep themselves in countenance as nos fairly outdone, but only out-witted,

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Shall I, in London, act this idle part? 125
Composing songs, for Fools to get by heart?

m The Temple late two brother Serjeants faw,
Who deem'd each other Oracles of Law;
With equal talents, these congenial souls
One lull'd th’ Exchequer, and one stunn'd the Rolls;
Each had a gravity would make you split, 131
And shook his head at Murray, as a Wit.
“ 'Twas, Sir, your law"--and “ Sir, your eloquence”
“ Yours, Cowper's manner-and yours, ''Talbot's

66 sense.
* Thus we dispose of all poetic merit,

Yours Milton's genius, and mine Homer's spirit.
Call Tibbald Shakespear, and he'll swear the Nine,
Dear Cibber! never match'd one Ode of thine.
Lord ! how we ftrut thro' Merlin's Cave, to see
No Poets there, but Stephen, you, and me. 140
Walk with respect behind, while we at ease
Weave laurel Crowns, and take what names we please.

My dear Tibullus !” if that will not do, « Let me be Horace, and be Ovid


VBR. 139. Merlin's Cave,] In the Royal Gardens at
Richmond. By this it should seem as if the collection of
poetry, in that place, was not to our Author's tatte.

VER. 140. But Stephen) Mr. Stephen Duck, a modest and worthy man, who had the honour (which many, who thought themselves his betters in poetry, had nol) of being esteemed by Mr. Pope.

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