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Each art he prompts, each charm he can create,
Whate'er he gives, are givin for you to hate.
Persist, by all divine in man unaw'd,
But learn, ye Dunces! not to scorn your

God. 220
Thus he, for then a ray of reason stole
Half thro' the solid darkness of his soul ;
But soon the cloud return'd-and thus the sire :
See now, what Dulness and her sons admire !
See what the charms that smite the simple heart, 225
Not touch'd by nature, and not reach'd by art.

He look’d, and saw a sable sorc'rer rise, Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies : All sudden, gorgons hiss, and dragons glare, And ten-horn'd fiends and giants rush to war. 230 Hell rises, heav'n descends, and dance on earth, Gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth, A fire, a jigg, a battle, and a ball, Till one wide confiagration swallows all.

Thence a new world to nature's laws unknown, Breaks out refulgent, with a heav'n its own.

236 Another Cynthia her new journey runs, And other planets circle other suns: The forests dance, the rivers upward rise, Whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the skies ; And last, to give the whole creation grace, 241 Lo! one vast egg produces human race. Joy fills his soul, joy innocent of thought : What pow'r, he cries, what pow'r these wonders wrought


Son! what thou seek'st is in thee. Look, and find Each monster meets his likeness in thy mind. 246 Yet would'st thou more? In yonder cloud behold, Whose sarcenet skirts are edg'd with flamy gold, A matchless youth! his nod these worlds controuls, Wings the red lightning, and the thunder rolls. 250 Angel of Dulness, sent to scatter round Her magic charms o'er all unclassic ground: Yon stars, yon suns, he rears at pleasure higher, Illumes their light, and sets their flames on fire. Immortal Rich ! how calm he sits at ease

255 Mid snows of


and fierce hail of pease ; And proud his mistress' orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.

But lo! to dark encounter in mid air New wizards rise: here Booth, and Cibber there : 260 Booth in his cloudy tabernacle shrin'd, On grinning dragons Gibber mounts the wind : Dire is the conflict, dismal is the din, Here shouts all Drury, there all Lincoln's Inn ; Contending theatres our empire raise,

265 Alike their labours, and alike their praise.

And are these wonders, Son, to thee unknown? Unknown to thee? These wonders are thy own. For works like these let deathless journals tell, “ None but thyself can be thy parallel.” 270 These, fate reserv'd to grace thy reign divine, Foreseen by me, but ah! withheld from mine,


In Lud's old walls tho' long I rul'd renown'd,
Far, as loud Bow's stupendous bells resound;
Tho' my own aldermen conferr'd my bays,

275 To me committing their eternal praise, Their full-fed heroes, their pacific may'rs, Their annual trophies, and their monthly wars: 'Tho' long my party built on me their hopes,

For writing pamphlets, and for roasting Popes; 280
(Diff'rent our parties, but with equal gracę
The Goddess smiles on Whig and Tory race,
'Tis the same rope at several ends they twsit,
To Dulness, Ridpath is as dear as Mist.)
Yet lo! in me what authors have to brag on! 285
Reduc'd at last to hiss in my own dragon.
Avert it, Heav'n! that thou or Gibber e'er
Should wag two serpent-tails in Smithfield fair.
Like the vile straw that's blown about the streets,
The needy poet sticks to all he meets,

Coach'd, carted, trod upon, now loose, now fast,
And carry'd off in some dog's tail at last.
Happier thy fortunes ! like a rolling stone,
Thy giddy dulness still shall lumber on,
Safe in its heaviness can never stray,

295 And licks up every blockhead in the way. Thy dragons magistrates and peers shall taste, And from each show rise duller than the last ! Till rais'd from booths to theatre, to court, Her seat imperial, Dulness shall transport. 300


Already opera prepares the way,
The sure fore-runner of her gentle sway.
To aid her cause, if Heav'n thou can'st not bend,
Hell thou shalt move ; for Faustus is thy friend :
Pluto with Cato thou for her shalt join,

And link the Mourning Bride to Proserpine.
Grub-street! thy fall should men and gods conspire,
Thy stage shall stand, ensure it but from fire.
Another Æschylus appears! prepare
For new abortions, all ye pregnant fair!

310 In flames, like Semele's, be brought to bed, While opening hell spouts wild-fire at your head. Now Bavius take the


from thy brow, And place it here ! here all ye heroes bow! This, this is he, foretold by ancient rhymes :

315 Th' Augustus, born to bring Saturnian times : Beneath his reign, shall Eusden wear the bays, Cibber preside, Lord Chancellor of plays. Benson sole judge of architecture fit, And Ambrose Philips be preferr'd for wit ! 326 While naked mourns the dormitory wall, While Jones and Boyle's united labours fall, While Wren with sorrow to the grave descends, Gay dies unpension'd with a hundred friends, Hibernian politicks, O Swift, thy fate,

325 And Pope's whole years to comment and translate.

Proceed great days ! till learning fly the shore, Till Birch shall blush with noble blood no more,


Till Thames see Eton's sons for ever play,
Till Westminster's whole year be holiday ; 330
Till Isis' elders reel, their pupils sport ;
And Alma Mater lye dissolv'd in port !

Signs following signs lead on the mighty year;
See the dull star roll round and

re-appear. She comes ! the cloud-compelling pow'r behold! 335 With Night primæval, and with Chaos old. Lo! the great Anarch's ancient reign restor'd; Light dies before her uncreating word. As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sick’ning stars fade off th' æthereal plain ; 340 As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest, Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, Art after art goes out, and all is night. See sculking Truth in her old cavern lye,

345 Secur'd by mountains of heap'd casuistry: Philosophy, that touch'd the heav'ns before, Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more: See Physic beg the Stagyrite's defence ! See Metaphysic call for aid on sense !

350 See Mystery to Mathematics fly; In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Thy hand, great Dulness ! lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all.

Enough! enough! the raptur'd Monarch cries; And thro’ the ivory gate the vision fies.


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