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Thee Jervas hails, robust and debonair,
Now have [we] conquer'd Homer, friends, he cries: Dartneuf, grave joker, joyous Ford is there,
And wond'ring Maine, so fat with laughing eyes (Gay, Maine, and Cheney, boon companions dear, Gay fat, Maine fatter, Cheney huge of size), Yea, Dennis, Gildon (hearing thou hast riches), 135 And honest, hatless Cromwell, with red breeches.
O Wanley, whence com'st thou with shorten'd hair, And visage from thy shelves with dust besprent? "Forsooth (quoth he) from placing Homer there, For ancients to compyle is myne entente:
dulity. Sir Godfrey had drawn for Pope the statues of Apollo, Venus, and Hercules. Pope paid for them with the following
"What god, what genius, did the pencil move,
When Kneller painted these!
"Twas friendship warm as Phoebus, kind as love,
And strong as Hercules."
On these lines, which their author wisely suppressed, Mr. Walpole has offered a very just criticism. See his Anecdotes, &c. vol. iii. p. 112.
Ver. 132. joyous Ford is there,] Charles Ford, Esq. was by Swift's interest appointed Gazetteer. See the Dean's Letter to Mrs. Dingley, dated July 1, 1712.
Ver. 139. with dust besprent?] So in the Dunciad, b. iii. p. 185. "But who is he in closet close ypent
Of sober face, with learned dust besprent?
Humphrey Wanley was librarian to Lord Oxford.
Of ancients only hath Lord Harley care;
But hither me hath my meeke lady sent:In manuscript of Greeke rede we thilke same, But book yprint best plesyth my gude dame."
Yonder I see, among th' expecting crowd,
Evans with laugh jocose, and tragic Young; High-buskin'd Booth, grave Mawbert, wand'ring Frowd,
And Titcomb's belly waddles slow along.
Yea, Steele and Tickell mingle in the throng;
Lo the two Doncastles in Berkshire known!
Ver. 149. slow along.] The names of the majority of persons here enumerated, are in want of no illustration; and concerning a few of them, it would be difficult to supply any. Titcomb, however, is mentioned in a letter from Pope to Congreve. "There is a grand revolution at Will's, Morrice has quitted for a coffee-house in the city, and Titcomb is restored to the great joy of Cromwell, who was at a loss for a person to converse with on the fathers, and church history."
Lo Stonor, Fenton, Caldwell, Ward, and Broome! Lo thousands more, but I want rhyme and room!
How lov'd! how honour'd thou! yet be not vain!
And what rewards his grateful country pay? None, none were paid-why then all this for me? These honours, Homer, had been just to thee.
VERSES TO DR. BOLTON,
In the Name of MRS. BUTTER'S Spirit, lately
STRIPT to the naked soul, escap'd from clay,
And all my hopes and fears thrown off with life;
Or a friend's sorrow pierce the gloom of death!
Ver. 8. firmless] A new-coined, and not a very happy epithet.