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His honour'd meaning Dulness thus exprest;

All hail him victor in both gifts and song, " He wins this patron who can tickle best.” Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long.

He chinks his purse, and takes his seat of state : This labour past, by Bridewell all descend, With ready quills the dedicators wait,

(As morning pray’r and tlagellation end) Now at his head the dextrous task commence,

To where Fleet-ditch with disemboguing streams And instant, fancy feels th' imputed sense ; Rolls the large tribute of dead dogs to Thames, Now gentle touches wanton o'er his face,

The king of dykes! than whom no sluice of mud He struts Adonis, and affects grimace :

With deeper sable blots the silver flood. Rolli the feather to his ear conveys,

“ Here strip, my children! here at once leap in! Then his nice taste directs our operas :

Here prove who best can dash thro' thick and thin,
Bentley his mouth with classic fatt'ry opes, And who the most in love of dirt excel,
And the puff’d orator bursts out in tropes.

Or dark dexterity of groping well.
But Welsted most the poet's healing balm

Who flings most filth, and wide pollutes around Strives to extract, from his soft, giving palm; The stream, be his the Weekly Journals bound; Unlucky Welsted! thy unfeeling master,

A pig of lead to him who dives the best :
The more thou ticklest, gripes his fist the faster. A peck of coals a-piece shall glad the rest.”

While thus each hand promotes the pleasing pain, In naked majesty Oldmixon stands,
And quick sensations skip from vein to vein, And Milo-like, surveys his arms and hands,
A youth upknown to Phoebus, in despair,

Then sighing, thus. “ And am I now threescore?
Puts his last refuge all in Heav'n and pray’r. Ah why, ye gods ! should two and two make four?”
What force have pious vows the queen of love He said, and climb'd a stranded lighter's height,
His sister sends, her votress, from above.

Shot to the black abyss, and plung'd down-right. As taught by Venus, Paris learnt the art

The senior's judgment all the croud admire, To touch Achilles' only tender part;

Who but to sink the deeper, rose the higher. Secure, thro' her, the noble prize to carry,

Next Smedley dir'd; slow circles diinpled o'er He marches off, his grace's secretary.

The quaking mud, that clos’d, and op'd no more.
Now turn to diff'rent sports'' (the goddess cries,) | All look, all sigh, and call on Smedley lost;
" And learn, my sons, the wondrous pow'r of noise. Smedley in vain resounds thro' all the coast.
To move, to raise, to ravish.ev'ry heart,

Then * essay'd ; scarce vanish'd out of sight,
With Shakespear's nature, or with Johnson's art, He buoys up instant, and returns to light:
Let others aim: 'Tis yours to shake the soul He bears no token of the sablér streams,
With thunder rumbling from the mustard bowl, And mounts far off among the swans of Thames.
With horns and trumpets now to madness swell, True to the bottom, see Concanen creep,
Now sink in sorrows with a tolling bell,

A cold, long-winded, native of the deep !
Such happy arts attention can command,

If perseverance gain the diver's prize,
When fancy flags, and sense is at a stand. Not everlasting Blackmore this denies :
Improve we these. Three cal-calls be the bribe, No noise, no stir, no motion canst thou make,
Of him, whose chatt'ring shames the monkey tribe, Th' unconscious flood sleeps o'er thee like a lake.
And his this drum, whose hoarse heroic base

Not so bold Arnall; with a weight of scull,
Drowns the loud clarion of the braying ass.” Furious he sinks, precipitately dull.

Now thousand tongues are heard in one loud din: Whirlpools and storms his circling arın invest, The monkey-mimics rush discordant in :

With all the might of gravitation blest. 'Twas chatt'ring, grinning, mouthing, jabb'ring all, No crab more active in the dirty dance, And noise, and Norton, brangling, and Breval, Downward to climb, and backward to advance. Dennis, and dissonance ; and captious art, He brings up half the bottom on his head, And snip-snap short, and interruption smart. And loudly claims the Journals and the lead. “Hold” (cry'd the queen), “a cat-call each shall Sudden, a burst of thunder shook the flood : win,

Lo Smedley rose in majesty of mud!
Equal your merits! equal is your din !

Shaking the horronrs of his ample brows,
But that this well-disputed game may end, And each ferocious feature grim with ooze.
Sound forth, my brayers, and the welkin rend.” Greater he looks, and more than mortal stares;

As when the long-ear'd milky mothers wait Then thus the wonders of the deep declares.
At some sick miser's triple-bolted gate,

First he relates, how sinking to the chin,
For their defrauded, absent foals they make Smit with his mien, the mud-nymphs suck'd him in:
A moan so loud, that all the guild awake; How young Lutetia, softer than the down,
Sore sighs sir Gilbert, starting, at the bray, Nigrina black, and Merdamante brown,
From dreams of millions, and three groats to pay ! Vy'd for his love in jetty bow'rs below,
So swells each wind-pipe; ass intones to ass, As Hylas fair was ravish'd long ago.
Harmonic twang, of leather, horn, and brass ; Then sung, how shown him by the nut-brown
Such, as from lab'ring lungs th' enthusiast blows,

maids
High sounds, attempted to the vocal nose. A branch of Styx here rises from the shades,
But far o'er all, sonorous Blackmore's strain; That tinctur'd as it runs with Lethe's streams,
Walls, steeples, skies, bray back to him again : And wafting vapours from the land of dreams,
In Tot'nam fields, the brethren with amaze (As under seas Alphæus' secret sluice
Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze; Bears Pisa's offering to his Arethuse)
Long Chanc'ry-lane retentive rolls the sound, Pours into Thames : Each city bowl is full
And courts to courts return it round and round : Of the mixt wave, and all who drink grow dull.
Thames wafts it thence to Rufus' roaring hall, How to the banks where bards departed doze,
And Hungerford re-echoes bawl for bawl.

They led him soft ; how all the bards arose,
VOL. XII.

11

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Taylor, sweet swan of Thames, majestic bows, Who prouder march'd, with magistrates in state,
And Shadwell nods the poppy on his brows ; To some fam'd round-house, ever open gate:
While Milbourn there, deputed by the rest, How Laurus lay inspir'd beside a sink,
Gave him the cassock, surcingle, and vest; And to mere mortals seem'd a priest io drink :
And Take” (he said) " these robes which once While others, timely, to the neighbouring Fleet
were mine,

(Haunt of the Muses) made their safe retreat.
Dulness is sacred in a sound divine."
He ceas'd, and show'd the robe ; the crowd

confiss The rev'rund famen in his lengthen'd dress. Slow moves the goddess from the sable flood,

THE DUNCIAD. (Her priest preceding) thro' the gates of Lud. Her critics there she summons, and proclaims A gentler exercise to close the games. “ Here you ! in whose grave heads, as equal scales,

ARGUMENT TO BOOK THE THIRD. I weigh what author's heaviness prevails; Which most conduce to sooth the soul in slumbers, after the other persons are disposed in their proper My Henley's periods, or my Blackmore's numbers? places of rest, the goddess transports the king to Attend the trial we propose to make:

her temple, and there lays him to slumber with If there be man who o'er such works can wake,

his head on her lap: a position of marvellous Sleep's all-subduing charms who dares defy,

virtue, which causes all the visions of wild entbuAnd boasts Ulysses' ear with Argus' eye,

siasts, projectors, politicians, inamoratos, castleTo him we grant our amplest pow'rs to sit

buikers, chyinists, and poets. He is immediately Judge of all present, past, and future wit,

carried on the wings of Fancy to the Elysian To cavil, censure, dictate, right or wrong,

shade ; where on the banks of Lethe the souls of Full, and eternal privilege of tongue." [came, the dull are dipped by. Bavius, before their enThree Cambridge sophs and three pert Templars

trance into this world. There he is met by the The same their talents, and their tastes the same, ghost of Settle, and by him made acquainted Each prompt to query, answer, and debate,

with the wonders of the place, and with those And smit with love of poesy and pratc,

which he is himself destined to perform. He takes The pond'rous books two gentle readers bring,

him to a Mount of Vision, from whence bt shows The heroes sit; the vulgar forin a ring.

hin the past triumphs of the empire of Dulness, The clanı'rous crowd is bush'd with mugs of mum,

then the present, and lastly the future: How Till all tun'd equal, send a gen'ral bum.

small a part of the world was ever conquered by Then mount the clerks, and in one lazy tone,

science, how soon those conquests were stopped, Thro' the long, heavy, painful page, drawl on;

and those very nations again reduced to be Soft creeping, words on words, the sense compose,

dominion. Then distinguishing the island of At ev'ry line, they stretch, they yawn, they doze.

Great Britain, shows by what aids, and by what As to soft gales top-heavy pines bow low

persons, it shall be forthwith brought to ber Their heads, and 1.ft them as they cease to blow; empire. These he causes to pass in review before Thus oft they rear, and oft the head decline, his eyes, describing each by his proper figure, As breathe, or pause, by fits, the airs divine : character, and qualifications. On a sudden the And now to this side, now to that, they nod,

scene shifts, and a vast number of miracles and As verse, or prose, infuse the drowzy god.

prodigies appear, utterly surprising and unknown Thrice Budgel aim'd to speak, but thrice supprest

to the king bimself, till they are explained to be By potent Arthur, knock'd his chin and breast. the wonders of his own reign now commencing. Toland and Tindal, prompt at priests to jeer,

On this subject Settle breaks into a congratulaYet silent bow'd to Christ's no kingdom here.

tion, yet nut unmixed with concern, that his Who sate the nearest, by the words o'ercome own times were but the types of these. He proSlept first, the distant nodded to the hum. [lies

phesjes how first the nation shall be over-run Then down are rolld the books; stretch'd o'er 'em with farces, operas, and shows; and the throne Each gentle clerk, and mutt'ring seals his eyes.

of Dulness advanced orer both the theatres, then As what a Dutchman plumps into the lakes,

how her sons shall preside in the seats of arts One circle first, and then a second makes,

and sciences, till in conclusion all shall retum What Dulness dropt among her sons imprest

to their original chaos: A scene, of which the Like motion, from one circle to the rest;

present action of the Dunciad is but a type of So from the mid-most the nutation spreads

foretaste, giving a glimpse, or Pisgah-sight of Round, and more round, o'er all the sea of heads. the promised fulness of her glory; the accopie At last Centlivre felt her voice to fail,

plishment whereof will, in all probability, hereMotteux himself unfinish'd left his tale,

after be the theme of many other and greater Boyer the state, and Law the stage gave o'er,

Dunciads.
Nor Kelsey talk'd, nor Naso whisper'd more;
Norton, from Daniel and Ostræa sprung,
Bless'd with his father's front, and mother's tongue,
Hung silent down his never-blushing head;

BOOK III.
And all was hush'd, as l'olly's self lay dead.

Thus the soft gifts of sleep conclude the day, But in her temple's last recess enclos'd, And stretch'd on bulks, as usual, poets lay. On Dulness' lap th' anointed head repos'd. Why should I sing what bards the nightly Muse Him close she curtain'd round with vapours blue, Did slumb'ring visit, and convey to stews: And soft besprinkled with Cimmerian dew.

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Then raptures high the seat of sense o'erflow,

“ How little, mark! that portion of the ball, Which only heads retin'd from reason know. (nods, Where, faint at best, the beams of science fall; Hence, from the straw where Bedlam's prophet Soon as they draw, from Hyperborean skies, He hears loud oracles, and talks with gods : Embody'd dark, what clouds of Vandals rise! Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme, Lo where Mootis sleeps, and hardly flows The air-built castle, and the golden dream, The freezing Tanais thro' a waste of snows, The maid's romantic wish, the chymist's flame, The north liy myriaus pours her mighty sons, And poet's vision of eternal fame.

Great nurse of Goths, of Alans, and of Huns. And now, on Fancy's easy wing convey'd, See Alaric's stern port! the martial frame The king descended to th' Elysian shade.

Of Genseric! and Attila's driad name! There, in a dusky vale where Lethe rolls,

See, the bold Ostrogoths on Latium fall; Old Bavius sits, to dip poetic souls,

See, the fierce Visigoths on Spain and Gaul. And blunt the sense, and fit it for a scull

See, where the morning gilds the palmy shore Of solid proof, impenetrably dull :

(The soil that arts and iníant letters oore) Instant when dipt, away they'wing their flight, His conqu’ring tribes th’ Arabian prophet draws, Where Brown and Mears unbar the gates of light, And saving ignorance cothrones by laws. Demand new boilies, and in calf's array,

-ee Christians, Jews, one heavy sabbath keep; Rush to the world, impatient for the day.

And all the western world believe and sleep. Millions and millions on these banks he views,

“Lo Rome herself, prouri mistress now no more Thick as the stars of night, and morning dews,

Of arts, but thund'ring against heathen lore; As thick as bees o'er vernal blossoms fly,

Her gray-hair'd synods damning books unread, As thick as eggs at Ward in pillory.

And Bacon trembling for his brozen head; Wond'ring he gaz'd: When lo! a sage appears,

Padua with sighs behold her Livy burn, By his broad shoulders known, and length of ears,

And ev'n th' Antirodes Virgilius mourn. Known by the band and suit which Settle wore, See, the cirque falls, th' unpillar'd temple nods, (His only suit) for twice three years before : Strets pav'd with heroes, Tyber choak'd with gods: All as the vest appear'd the wearer's frame, Till Peter's keys some christend Jore adorn, Old in new state, another yet the same.

And Pan to Moses lends his pagan born; Bland and familiar, as in life, begun

See graceless Venus to a virgin tund, Thus the great father to the greater son.

Or Phidias broken, and Apelles burn'l. " Oh born to see what none can see awake! “ Behold yon isle, by palmers, pilgrims trod, Behold the wonders of th' oblivions lake,

Men bearded, bald, cowl'd, uncowl'd, shod, unshod, Thou, yet unborn, hast touch'd this sacred shore; Peeld, patch'd, and pyebald, linsøy-woolsey The hand of Bavius drench'd thee o'er and o'er.

brothers,

fothers. But blind to former, as to future fate,

Grave mummers ! sleeveless some, and shirtless What mortal knows his pre-existent state ?

That once was Britain-Happy! bad she scen Who knows how long, thy transmigrating soul No fiercer sons, bad Easter never been ! Might from Baotian to Baotian roll!

In peace, great goddess, ever be ador'd; How many Dutchmen she vouchsaf'd to thrid ? How keen the war, if Dulness draw the sworil? How many stages thro' old monks she rid ? Thus visit not thy own! on this blest age And all who since, in mild benighted days,

Oh spread thy intuence, but restrain thy rage. Mix'd the owl's ivy with the poet's bays?

" And see! my son, the hour is on its way, As man's meanders to the vital spring

That lifts our goddess to imperial sway; Roll all their tides, then back their circles bring; This fav’rite isle, long sever'd from her reign, Or whirligigs, twirl'd round by skilful swain, Dove like, she gathers to her wings again. Suck the thread in, then yield it out again :

Now look thro' fate! behold the scene she draws! All nonsense thus, of old or mo:lern date,

What aids, what armies, to assert her cause? Shall in thee center, from thee circulate.

See all her progeny, illustrious sight! For this, our queen unfolds to vision true

Behold, and count them, as they rise to light. Thy mental eye, for thou hast much to view : As Berecynthia, while her off-spring vie Old scenes of glory, times long cast behind In homage, to the mother of the sky, Shall first recall’d, rush forward to thy mind; Surveys around her in her blest abode Then stretch thy sight o'er all her rising reign,

A hundred sons, and every son a god : And let the past and future fire thy brain.

Not with less glory mighty Dulness crown'd " Ascend this hill, whose cloudy point commands Shall take thro' Grubstreet her triumphant round, Hler boundless empire over seas and lands.

And her Parnassus glancing o'er at once, See round the poles where keener spangles shine, Behold a hundred sons, and each a dunce. Where spices smoke beneath the burning line, “ Mark first that youth who takes the foremost (Earth's wide extremes) her sable flag display'd ;

And thrusts his person full into your face. (place, And all the nations cover'd in her shade!

With all thy father's virtues blest, be born! “Fareastward cast thine eye, from whence the Sun And a new Cibber shall the stage ådorn.. And orient-science at a birth begun.

" A second see, by meeker manners known, One god-like monarch all that pride confounds,

And modest as the maid that sips alone; He, whose long wall the wand'ring Tartar bounds. From the suong fate of drams if thou get free, Heav'ns! what a pile? whole ages perish there : Another Durfey, Ward ! shall sing in thee. And one bright blaze turns learning into air. Thee shall each ale-house, thee each gill-house “ Thence to the south extend thy gladden'd eyes;

mourn, There rival Names with equal glory rise,

And answering gin-shops sourer sighs return. From shelves to shelves see greedy Vulcan roll,

“Lo next two slip-shod Muses traipse along, And lick up all their pbysic of the soul.

In lofty madness, meditating song,

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skies;

With tresses staring from poetic dreams,

But O! with One, immortal One dispense, And never wash'd, but in Castalia's streams : The source of Newton's light, of Bacon's sense! Haywood, Centlivre, glories of their race!

Content, each emanation of his fires Lo Horneck's fierce, and Room's funereal face; That beams on Earth, each virtue he inspires, lo snering Goode, half inalice and half whim, Each art he prompts, each charm be can create, A fiend in glee, ridiculously grim.

Whate'er he gives, are giv'n for you to hate. Jacob, the scourge of grammar, mark with awe, Persist, by all divine in man unaw'd, Nor les revere bin, blunderbuss of law.

But learn, ye dunces! not to scorn your God" Lo Bond and Fixton, ev'ry nameless name,

Thus he, for then a ray of reason stole All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame. Half thro' the solid darkness of his soul; Some strain in rhyme; the Muses, on their racks, But soon the cloud return'd-and thus the sire : Serdam like the winding of ten thousand jacks : See now, what Dulness and her sons admire! Soine free from rhyme or rrason, rule or check, See what the charms that smite the simple heart, Break Priscian's head, and Pegasus's neck; Not touch'd by nature, and not reach'd by art." Down, down thuy larum, with impetuous whirl, He look'd, and saw a sable sorc'rer rise, The Pindars, and the Viltons of a Curl. [howls, Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies :

“. Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cinthia All sudden, Gorgons hiss, and dragons glare, And makes night bideous-—Answer him ye onis ! And ten-horn'd fiends and giants rush to war.

“ Sense, speech, and measure, living tongues, and Hell rises, Hav'n descends, and dance on Earth, Let all give way--3901 Morris may be read. (dead, Gods, inps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth,

Flow, Welsted, Aw! like thine inspirer, beer, A fire, a jigy, a battle, and a ball, Tho'stale, not ripe; tho' thin, yet never clear; Till one wide contiagration swallows all. So sweetly mai kish, and so smoothly dull; Thence a new world to Nature's laws unknown, lleady, not strong; and foa'ning, tho' not full. Breaks out refulgent, with a heav'n its own.

" Ah Dennis! Gildon ah! what ill-starr'd rage Another Cynt ia her new journey runs, Divides a friendship long confirm'd by age? And other planets circle other suns : Blockheads with reason wicked wits ablior,

The forests dance, the rivers upward rise, But fool with fool is barb'rous civil war.

Whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the Embrace, embrace my sons ! be foes no more! Nor glad vile poets with true critics gore.

And last, to give the whole creation grace, “ Behold yon pair, in strict embraces juin'd; Lo! one rast egg produces human race. How like in manners, and how like in mind ! Joy fills his soul, joy innocent of thought : Fam'd for gooi nature, Burnet, and for truth; “What pow'r," he cries, “what power these conDucket, for pious passion to the youth.

ders wrought?” Equal in wit, and equally polite,

Son! what thou seck'st is in thee. Look, and find Shall this a Pasquin, that a Grumbler write; Each monster meets bis likeness in thy inind. Like are their merits, like rewards they share, Yet would'st thou more? In yonder cloud behold, That shines a consul, this comminissioner.”

Whose sarcenet skirts are edg'd with flamy gold, “ But who is he, in closet close y pent,

A matchless youth! His nod these worlds controls, Of sober face, with learned dust besprent?” Wings the red lightning, and the thunder rolls. " Right well mine eyes arede the myster wight, Angel of Dulness, sent to scatter round On parchment scraps y fed, and Wormius hight. Her magic charms o'er all unclassic ground : To future ages may thy dulness last,

Yon stars, yon suns, he rears at pleasure higher, As thou preservist the dulness of the past! (mark, Humes their light, and sets their fames on fire.

There, dim in clouds, the poring scholiasts Immortal Rich! how calm he sits at ease Wits, who like owls see only in the dark,

Mid snows of paper, and fierce hail of pease; A lumberhouse of books in ev'ry head;

And proud his mistress' orders to perform, For ever reading, never to be read !

Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm. “ But, where each science lifts its modern type, “ But lo! to dark encounter in mid air Hist'ry her pot, Divinity bis pipe,

New wizards rise: here Booth, and Cibber there : While proud Philosophy repines to show,

Booth in his cloudy tabernacle shrin'd, Dishonest sight! his breeches rent below;

On grinning dragons Cibber mounts the wind : Imbrown'd with native bronze, lo Henley stands, Dire is the contlict, dismal is the din, Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands.

Ilere shouts all Drury, there all Lincoln's Inn; How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue ! Contending theatres our empire raise, How sweet the periods, neither said nor sung. Alike their labours, and alike their praise. Still break the benches, Henley! with thy strain, “And are these wonders, son, to thee unknown While Kennet, Hare, and Gibson preach in vain. Unknown to thee? these wonders are thy own. Oh great restorer of the good old stage,

For works like these let deathless journals tell, Preacher at once, and zany of thy age !

* None but thyself can be thy parallel.' Oh worthy thou of Ægypt's wise abodes,

These, fate reserv'd to grace thy reign divine, A decent priest, where monkeys were the gods !. Foreseen by me, but ah!'withbeld from mine. But fate with butchers plac'd thy priestly stall, In Lud's old walls tho' long I ruld renown'd, Meek modern faith to murder, hack, and mawl; Far, as loud Bow's stupendous bells resound; And bade thee live, to crown Britannia's praise, Tho' my own aldermen conferr'd my bays, In Toland's, Tindal's, and in Woolston's days. To me committing their eternal praise,

“ Yet oh my sons! a father's words attend : Their full-fed beroes, their pacific may’rs, (So may the fates preserve the ears you lend) Their annual trophies, and their monthly wars: 'Tis yours, a Bacon or a Locke to blame,

Tho' long my party built on me their hopes, A Newton's genius, or a Milton's flame:

For writing pamphlets, and for roasting popes;

(Diff'rent our parties, but with equal grace Benson sole judge of architecture sit,
The goddess smiles on Whig and Tory race, And Ambrose Philips be preferr'd for wit!
'Tis the same rope that several ends they twist, While naked mourns the dormitory wall,
To Dulness, Ridpath is as dear as Mist.)

And Joncs' and Boyle's united labours fall,
Yet lo! in me what authors have to brag on! Wbile Wren with sorrow to the grave descends,
Reduc'd at last to hiss in my own dragon.

Gay dies upension’d with a hundred friends, Avert it, Heav'n! that thou or Cibber e'er Hibernian politicks, () Swift, thy fate, Should wag two serpent-tails in Smithfield fair. And Pope's whole years to comment and translate. Like the vile straw that's blown about the streets, Proceed great days! till learning fly the shore, The needy poet sticks to all he metts,

Till birch shall blush with noble blood no more, Coach'd, carted, trod upon, now loose, now fast, Till Thames see Eton's sons for ever play, And carry'd off in some dog's tail at last.

Till Westminster's whole year be holiday; Happier thy fortunes ! like a rolling stone,

Till Isis' elders reel, their pupils sport ; Thy giddy dulness still shall lumber on,

And Alma Mater lye dissolv'd in port ! (year ; Safe in its heaviness can never stray,

“ Sigus following sigus lead on the mighty And licks up every blockhead in the way.

See! the dull star roll round and re-appear. Thy dragons magistrates and peers shall taste, She comes ! the cloud-compelling pow'r behold! And from each show rise duller than the last; With night primeval, and with chaos old. Till rais'd from booths to theatre, to court,

Lo! the great anarch's ancient reign restor'd ; Her seat imperial, Dulness shall transport. Light dies before her uncreating word. Already opera prepares the way,

As one by one, at dread Medæa's strain, The sure fore-runner of her gentle sway.

The sick’ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain ; To aid her cause, if Heav'n thou canst not bend, As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest, Hell thou shalt move ; for Faustus is thy friend : Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Pluto with Cato thou for her shalt join,

Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, And link the Mourning Bride to Proserpine. Art after art goes out, and all is night. Grub-street! thy fall should men and gods conspire, See sculking Truth in her old cavern lye, Thy stage shall stand, ensure it but from fire : Securd by mountains of heap'd casuistry: Another Æschylus appears ! prepare

Philosophy, that touch'd the heav'ns before, For new abortions, all ye pregnant fair !

Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more : In fames, like Semele's, be brought to bed, See Physic beg the Stagyrite's defence ! While opening Hell spouts wild-fire at your head. See Metaphysic call for aid on sense !

“ Now Bavius take the poppy from thy brow, See Mystery to mathematics fly; And place it here' here all ye heroes bow ! In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. This, this is he, foretold by ancient rhymes : Thy hand, great Dulness ! lets the curtain fall, Th’ Augustus, born to bring Saturnian times : And universal darkness buries all.” Beneath his reign, shall Eusden wear the bays, “ Enough! enough!" the raptur'd monarch Cibber preside, lord-chancellor of plays.

And thro' the ivory gate the vision dies. (cries;

BND OF VOL. XIL

G. WOODFALL, Printer,
Paternoster-row, London.

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