No more, alas! the voice of Fame they hear, 1 545 Why all your toils? your sons have learn'd to sing. How quick Ambition hates to ridicule! The sire is made a peer, the son a fool.. On some, a priest succinct in amice white Attends; all flesh is nothing in his sight! Beeves at his touch, at once to jelly turn, And the huge boar is shrunk into an urn: The board, with spacious miracles, he loads, Turns hares to larks, and pigeons into toads. Another (for in all what one can shine?) Explains the seve and verdeur of the vine. What cannot copious sacrifice atone? 550 553 Thy truffles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne ! With French libation, and Italian strain, Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain.. 560 Knight lifts the head; for what are crowds undone, To three essential partridges in one? Gone ev'ry blush, and silent all reproach,' Contending princes mount them in their coach. REMARKS. 566 v. 560. ---Bladen---Hays.] Names of gamesters. Bladen is a black man. Robert Knight, Cashier of the South-sea Company, who fled from England in 1720 (afterwards pardoned in 1742.)---These lived with the utmost magnificence at Paris, and kept open tables frequented by persons of the first quality of England, and even by princes of the blood of France. Her children first of more distinguish'd sort, Who study Shakespeare at the Inns of Court, Shine in the dignity of F. R. S. 570 Some, deep Free-masons, join the silent race, Some botanists, or florists at the least, 575 Then, blessing all, Go, children of my care! To practise now from theory repair. 580 All my commands are easy, short, and full: 585 From stage to stage the licens'd Earl may run, Pair'd with his fellow-charioteer, the Sun; And drown his lands and manors in a soup. Volume IV. ន Others import yet nobler arts from France, 600 More she had spoke, but yawn'd---All Nature nods: What mortal can resist the yawn of gods? 605 Then catch'd the Schools; the Hall scarce kept awake; The Convocation gap'd, but could not speak: 610 While the long solemn unison went round: 615 The vapour mild o'er each Committee crept; O Muse! relate, (for you can tell alone, 629 Till drown'd was Sense, and Shame, and Right, and Wrong--- O sing, and hush the nations with thy song! * 625 In vain, in vain---the all-composing hour Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the pow'r. She comes! she comes! the sable throne behold Of Night primeval, and of Chaos old! 630 Before her Fancy's gilded clouds decay, As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, 635 TH. sick'ning stars fade off the ethereal plain; As Argus's eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest, Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, 640 IMITATIONS. v. 621. Relate who first, who last, resign'd to rest: Whose beads she partly, whose completely blest.] "Quem telo primum, quem postremum aspera Virg. "Dejicis? aut quot humi, morientia corpora fundis?" v. 637. As Argus' eyes, &c.] Virg. "Et quamvis sopor est oculorum parte receptus, Ovid. Met. II} Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse Divine! 645 650 Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall';~655 And universal Darkness buries All. VARIATIONS. v. 643.] In the former edit. it stood thus: Philosophy, that reach'd the heav'ns before, Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more. And this was intended as a censure of the Newtonian philosophy. For the Poet had been misled by the prejudices of foreigners, as if that philosophy had recurred to the ocult qualities of Aristotle. This was the idea he received of it from a man educated much abroad, who had read every thing, but every thing superficially. Had his excellent Friend, Dr. A. been consulted in this matter, it is certain that so unjust a reflection had never discredited so noble a Satire. When I hinted to him how he had been imposed upon, he changed the lines with great pleasure, into a compliment (as they now stand) on that divine genius, and a satire on the folly by which he, the Poet himself, had been misled. END OF THE DUNCIAD. |