Through half the heav'ns he pours th' exalted urn;
His rapid waters in their passage burn.

Swift as it mounts, all follow with their eyes;
Still happy Impudence obtains the prize.
Thou triumph'st, victor of the high-wrought day,
And the pleas'd dame, soft-smiling, lead'st away.
Osborne, through perfect modesty o'ercome,
Crown'd with the jordan, walks contented home.
But now for authors nobler palms remain;
Room for my Lord! three jockies in his train;
Six huntsmen with a shout precede his chair:
He grins, and looks broad nonsense with a stare.
His honour's meaning Dulness thus exprest,
"He wins this patron who can tickle best."

He chinks his purse, and takes his seat of state:
With ready quills the Dedicators wait;
Now at his head the dext'rous task commence,
And, instant, Fancy feels th' imputed sense;
Now gentle touches wanton o'er his face,
He struts Adonis, and affects grimace:
Rolli the feather to his ear conveys;

Then his nice taste directs our operas:

REMARKS.

186

191

195

200

v. 203. Paolo Antonio Rolli, an Italian poet, and writer of many operas in that language, which, partly

IMITATIONS.

"Et gemina auratus taurina cornua vultu, "Eridanus, quo non alius per pinguia culta "In mare purpureum violentior influit amnis.” The poets fabled of this river Eridanus, that it flowed thro' the skies. Denham, Cooper's Hill:

"Heav'n her Eridanus no more shall boast, "Whose fame in thine, like lesser currents lost, "Thy nobler stream shall visit Jove's abodes, "To shine among the stars, and bathe the gods."

Bentley his mouth with classic flatt'ry opes,
And the puff'd orator bursts out in tropes.
But Welsted most the poet's healing balm
Strives to extract from his soft-giving palm.

REMARKS.

205

by the help of his genius, prevailed in England near twenty years. He taught Italian to some fine gentlemen, who affected to direct the operas.

v. 205. Bentley his mouth, &c.] Not spoken of the famous Dr. Richard Bentley, but of one Tho. Bentley, a small critic, who aped his uncle in a little Horace. The great one was intended to be dedicated to the Lord Halifax, but (on a change of the ministry) was given to the Earl of Oxford; for which reason the little one' was dedicated to his son the Lord Harley.

v. 207.---Welsted.] Leonard Welsted, author of The Triumvirate; or, A Letter in verse from Palaemon to Celia at Bath, which was meant for a satire on Mr. P. and some of his friends, about the year 1718. He writ other things which we cannot remember. Smedley, in his Metamorphosis of Scriblerus, mentions one, the Hymn of a Gentleman to his Creator: and there was another in praise either of a cellar, or a garret. L. W. characterised in the treatise fleet Babes or, The Art of Sinking, as a didapper, and after as an eel, is said to be this person, by Dennis, Daily Journal of May 11, 1728.

He was also characterised under another animal, a mole, by the author of the ensuing simile, which was handed about at the same time:

"Dear Welsted, mark, in dirty hole,
"That painful animal, a mole:*
"Above ground never born to grow,
"What mighty stir it keeps below!
"To make a mole-hill all this strife!
"It digs, pokes, undermines for life.
"How proud a little dirt to spread,
"Conscious of nothing o'er its head!

VARIATIONS.

v. 207. In the first edition:

But Oldmixon the poet's healing balm, &c.

200

Unlucky Welsted! thy unfeeling master,
The more thou ticklest, gripes his fist the faster.
While thus each hand promotes the pleasing pain,
And quick sensations skip from vein to vein.
A youth unknown to Phœbus, in despair,
Puts his last refuge all in heav'n and pray'r.
What force have pious vows! The Queen of Love
Her sister sends, her vot'ress from above.

216

As taught by Venus, Paris learnt the art
To touch Achilles' only tender part;

Secure, through her, the noble prize to carry,
He marches off, his Grace's secretary.

220

Now turn to diff'rent sports (the Goddess cries)
And learn, my Sons, the wondrous pow'r of Noise,
To move, to raise, to ravish ev'ry heart,
With Shakespeare's nature, or with Johnson's art,
Let other's aim; 'tis yours to shake the soul 225
With thunder rumbling from the mustard bowl;
With horns and trumpets now to madness swell,
Now sink in sorrows with a tolling bell!
Such happy arts attention can command
When Fancy flags, and sense is at a stand.

REMARKS.

"Till lab'ring on for want of eyes, "It blunders into light, and dies." You have him again in Book III. ver. 169.

IMITATIONS,

v. 223, 225. To move, to raise, &c.

Let others aim; 'tis yours to shake, &c.] "Excudent alii spirantia mollus aera,

234

"Credo equidem, vivos ducent de marmore vultus, &c. Tu regere imperio populos Romane, memento,

..

"Hae tibi erunt artes."--

Improve we these.

Three cat-calls be the bribe

Of him whose chatt'ring shames the monkey tribe: And is this drum, whose hoarse heroic base Drowns the loud clarion of the braying ass.

Now thousand tongues are heard in one loud din; The monkey-mimics rush discordant in; 236 'Twas chatt'ring, grinning, mouthing, jabb'ring all, And Noise and Norton, Brangling and Breval, Dennis and dissonance, and captious Art, And snip-snap short, and interruption smart, And demonstration thin, and theses thick, And major, minor, and conclusion quick.

240

Hold, (cry'd the Queen) a cat-call each shall win;
Equal your merits! equal is your din!
But that this well-disputed game may end,

245

Sound forth, my Brayers, and the welkin rend.

As when the long-ear'd milky mothers wait At some sick miser's triple-bolted gate, For their defrauded, absent foals they make A moan so loud, that all the guild awake; Sore sighs Sir Gilbert, starting at the bray, From dreams of millions, and three groats to pay :

REMARKS.

250

v. 238.---Norton.] See ver. 415.---J. Durant Breval, author of a very extraordinary book of travels, and some poems.

IMITATIONS.

v.243.---A cat-call each shall win, &c.]

"Non nostrum inter vos tantas componere lites, "Et vitula tu dignus, et hic."

Virg. Ecl. III.

v. 247. As when the, &c.] A simile, with a long tail, in the manner of Homer.

256

So swells each wind-pipe; ass intones to ass,
Harmonic twang! of leather, horn, and brass;
Such as from lab'ring lungs th' enthusiast blows,
High sound, attemper'd to the vocal nose;
Or such as bellow from the deep divine;
There, Webster! peal'd thy voice, and, Whitfield!
But far o'er all, sonorous Blackmore's strain; [thine.
Walls, steeples, skies, bray back to him again.
In Tot'nam-fields the Brethren with amaze,
Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze!

0..

REMARKS.

260

258.---Webster---and, Whitfield. The one the writer of a newspaper called The Weekly Miscellany, the other a field-preacher. This thought the only means of advancing religion was by the new-birth of spiritual madness; that by the old death of fire and faggot and therefore they agreed in this, though in no otherearthly thing, to abuse all the sober clergy. From the small success of these two extraordinary persons,

IMITATIONS.

v. 260.----bray back to him again.] A figure of speech taken from Virgil:

"Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata remugit." Georg. III. "He hears his numerous herds low o'er the plain, "While neighb'ring hills low back to them again." Cowley. The poet here celebrated, Sir R. B. delighted much in the word bray, which he endeavoured to ennoble by applying it to the sound of armour, war, &c. In imitation of him, and strengthened by his authority, our Author has here admitted it into heroic poetry,

v. 262. Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze!] "Immemor herbarum quos est mirata juvenca." Virg. Ecl. viii. The progress of the sound from place to place, and the