Persuasive, though a woful blockhead he : But most the theatres with dulness groan, Can the same power such various passions move? One up, one down, one empty, and one full; Or where some poplar trembles o'er the flood, Now high, now low, or on her feet or head. Yet these love verse, as croaking† comforts frogs, And mire and ordure are the heaven of hogs. As well might nothing bind immensity, Or passive matter immaterials see, * Et chaque acte en sa piece est une piece entiere. Boil. + When a poor genius has laboured much, he judges well not to expect the encomiums of the public: for these are not his due. Yet, for fear his drudgery should have no recompense, God (of his goodness) has given him a personal satisfaction. Thus the same deity (who is equally just in all points) has given frogs the comfort of croaking, &c. VOL. XXIX. Le Pere Gerasse Sommes Theol. L. 2. H h As these should write by reason, rhyme, and rule, They want 'em both, who never prais❜d a friend. Was ne'er a crime in honest Banks, or me. See next a crowd in damasks, silks and crapes, Equivocal in dress, half belles, half trapes: A length of night-gown rich Phantasia trails, Olinda wears one shift, and pares no nails : Some in C-l's cabinet each act display, When nature in a transport dies away; Some, more refin'd, transcribe their opera-loves On ivory tablets, or in clean white gloves; Some of Platonic, some of carnal taste, Hoop'd, or unhoop'd, ungarter'd, or unlac'd. Thus thick in air the wing'd creation play, When vernal Phœbus rolls the light away, A motley race, half insects and half fowls, Loose-tail'd and dirty, May-flies, bats, and owls. Gods, that this native nonsense was our worst! With crimes more deep, O Albion! art thou curs'd. No judgment open profanation fears, For who dreads GoD, that can preserve his ears? *Plato calls this an ignorance of a dark and dangerous nature, under appearance of the greatest wisdom. Not that I blame divine philosophy, (Yet much we risk, for pride and learning lie) By wits, by fools, by her own sons betray'd! Some Rome, and some the Reformation blame; 'Tis hard to say from whence such license came; From fierce enthusiasts, or Socinians sad? C―ns the soft, or Bourignon the mad? From wayward nature, or lewd poets' rhymes? From praying, canting, or king-killing times? From all the dregs which Gallia could pour forth, (Those sons of schism) landed in the north ?From whence it came, they and the d-1 best know; Yet thus much, Pope, each atheist is thy foe. O Decency, forgive these friendly rhymes, For raking in the dunghill of their crimes : To name each monster would make printing dear, Or tire Ned Ward, who writes six books a year. Such vicious nonsense, impudence, and spite, Would make a hermit or a father write, Though Julian held the world, and held no more Than deist Gildon taught, or Toland swore; Good Gregory* prov'd him execrably bad, And scourg'd his soul, with drunken reason mad. * Gregory Nazianzen: a father, at the beginning of the fourth century. He wrote two most bitter satires or invectives against the Emperor Julian. Much longer, Pope restrain'd his awful hand, of Jove. -For such the wrath Hell, chaos, darkness, tremble at the sound, O Pope, and sacred criticism! forgive A youth who dares approach your shrine and live! A SIMILE, UPON A SET OF TEA-DRINKERS. So fairy elves their morning-table spread THE SAME, DIVERSIFIED IN ANCIENT METRE. So, yf deepe clerkes in times of yore saine trew, And sowns aeriall adowne the greene woode flotte. A SOLILOQUY, OCCASIONED BY THE CHIRPING OF A GRASSHOPPER. HAPPY insect! ever bless'd With a more than mortal rest, In the burning summer, thou |