511:02,000@@@@@| 511:02,000[' ]| 511:02,000[' ]| 511:02,001@a | Shut, shut the door, good \John\! 511:02,001[A ]| fatigu'd I said, 511:02,002@a | Tye up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead, 511:02,003[A ]| The Dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt, 511:02,004[A ]| All \Bedlam\, or \Parnassus\, is let out: 511:02,005[A ]| Fire in each eye, and Papers in each hand, 511:02,006[A ]| They rave, recite, and madden round the land. 511:02,007[A ]| What Walls can guard me, or what Shades can hide? 511:02,008[A ]| They pierce my Thickets, thro' my Grot they glide, 511:02,009[A ]| By land, by water, they renew the charge, 511:02,010[A ]| They stop the Chariot, and they board the Barge. 511:02,011[A ]| No place is sacred, not the Church is free, 511:02,012[A ]| Ev'n \Sunday\ shines no \Sabbath-day\ to me: 511:02,013[A ]| Then from the \Mint\ walks forth the Man of Ryme, 511:02,014[A ]| Happy! to catch me, just at Dinner-time. 511:02,015[A ]| Is there a Parson, much be-mus'd in Beer, 511:02,016[A ]| A maudlin Poetess, a ryming Peer, 511:02,017[A ]| A Clerk, foredoom'd his Father's soul to cross, 511:02,018[A ]| Who pens a Stanza when he should \engross\? 511:02,019[A ]| Is there, who lock'd from Ink and Paper, scrawls 511:02,020[A ]| With desp'rate Charcoal round his darken'd walls? 511:02,021[A ]| All fly to \Twit'nam\, and in humble strain 511:02,022[A ]| Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain. 511:02,023[A ]| \Arthur\, whose giddy Son neglects the Laws, 511:02,024[A ]| Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause: 511:02,025[A ]| Poor \Cornus\ sees his frantic Wife elope, 511:02,026[A ]| And curses Wit, and Poetry, and \Pope\. 511:02,027[A ]| Friend to my Life, (which did not you prolong, 511:02,028[A ]| The World had wanted many an idle Song) 511:02,029[A ]| What \Drop\ or \Nostrum\ can this Plague remove? 511:02,030[A ]| Or which must end me, a Fool's Wrath or Love? 511:02,031[A ]| A dire Dilemma! either way I'm sped, 511:02,032[A ]| If Foes, they write, if Friends, they read me dead. 511:02,033[A ]| Seiz'd and ty'd down to judge, how wretched I! 511:02,034[A ]| Who can't be silent, and who will not lye; 511:02,035[A ]| To laugh, were want of Goodness and of Grace, 511:02,036[A ]| And to be grave, exceeds all Pow'r of Face. 511:02,037[A ]| I sit with sad Civility, I read 511:02,038[A ]| With honest anguish, and an aking head; 511:02,039[A ]| And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, 511:02,040[A ]| This saving counsel, 511:02,040@a | ""Keep your Piece nine years."" 511:02,041@w | Nine years! 511:02,041[A ]| cries he, who high in \Drury-lane\ 511:02,042[A ]| Lull'd by soft Zephyrs thro' the broken Pane, 511:02,043[A ]| Rymes e're he wakes, and prints before \Term\ ends, 511:02,044[A ]| Oblig'd by hunger and Request of friends: 511:02,045@w | ""The Piece you think is incorrect: why take it, 511:02,046@w | I'm all sumission, what you'd have it, make it."" 511:02,047[A ]| Three things another's modest wishes bound, 511:02,048[A ]| My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten Pound. 511:02,049[A ]| \Pitholeon\ sends to me: 511:02,049@w | ""You know his Grace, 511:02,050@w | I want a Patron; ask him for a Place."" 511:02,051[A ]| \Pitholeon\ libell'd me ~~ 511:02,051@w | ""but here's a Letter 511:02,052@w | Informs you Sir, 'twas when he knew no better. 511:02,053@w | Dare you refuse him? \Curl\ invites to dine, 511:02,054@w | He'll write a \Journal\, or he'll turn \Divine\."" 511:02,055[A ]| Bless me! a Packet. ~~ 511:02,055@w | ""'Tis a stranger sues, 511:02,056@w | A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse."" 511:02,057[A ]| If I dislike it, 511:02,057@w | ""Furies, death and rage!"" 511:02,058[A ]| If I approve, 511:02,058@w | ""Commend it to the Stage."" 511:02,059[A ]| There (thank my Stars) my whole Commission ends, 511:02,060[A ]| The Play'rs and I are, luckily, no friends. 511:02,061[A ]| Fir'd that the House reject him, 511:02,061@w | ""'Sdeath I'll print it 511:02,062@w | And shame the Fools ~~ your Int'rest, Sir, with \Lintot\."" 511:02,063[A ]| \Lintot\, dull rogue! will think your price too much. 511:02,064@w | ""Not Sir, if you revise it, and retouch."" 511:02,065[A ]| All my demurrs but double his attacks, 511:02,066[A ]| At last he whispers 511:02,066@w | ""Do, and we go snacks."" 511:02,067[A ]| Glad of a quarrel, strait I clap the door, 511:02,068[A ]| Sir, let me see your works and you no more. 511:02,069[A ]| 'Tis sung, when \Midas'\ Ears began to spring, 511:02,070[A ]| (\Midas\, a sacred Person and a King) 511:02,071[A ]| His very Minister who spy'd them first, 511:02,072[A ]| (Some say his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst. 511:02,073[A ]| And is not mine, my Friend,a sorer case, 511:02,074[A ]| When ev'ry Coxcomb perks them in my face? 511:02,075@b | ""Good friend forbear! you deal in dang'rous things, 511:02,076@b | I'd never name Queens, Ministers, or King: 511:02,077@b | Keep close to Ears, and those let Asses prick, 511:02,078@b | Tis nothing"" 511:02,078[A ]| ~~ Nothing? if they bite and kick? 511:02,079[A ]| Out with it, \Dunciad\! let the secret pass, 511:02,080[A ]| That Secret to each Fool, that he's an Ass: 511:02,081[A ]| The truth once told, (and wherefore shou'd we lie?) 511:02,082[A ]| The Queen of \Midas\ slept, and so may I. 511:02,083[A ]| You think this cruel? take it for a rule, 511:02,084[A ]| No creature smarts so little as a Fool. 511:02,085[A ]| Let Peals of Laughter, \Codrus\! round thee break, 511:02,086[A ]| Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty Crack. 511:02,087[A ]| Pit, Box and Gall'ry in convulsions hurl'd, 511:02,088[A ]| Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting World. 511:02,089[A ]| Who shames a Scribler? break one cobweb thro', 511:02,090[A ]| He spins the slight, self-pleasing thread anew; 511:02,091[A ]| Destroy his Fib, or Sophistry; in vain, 511:02,092[A ]| The Creature's at his dirty work again; 511:02,093[A ]| Thron'd in the Centre of his thin designs; 511:02,094[A ]| Proud of a vast Extent of flimzy lines. 511:02,095[A ]| Whom have I hurt? has Poet yet, or Peer, 511:02,096[A ]| Lost the arch'd eye-brow, or \Parnassian\ sneer? 511:02,097[A ]| And has not \Colly\ still his Lord, and Whore? 511:02,098[A ]| His Butchers \Henley\, his Free-masons \Moor\? 511:02,099[A ]| Does not one Table \Bavius\ still admit? 511:02,100[A ]| Still to one Bishop \Philips\ seem a Wit? 511:02,101[A ]| Still \Sapho\ ~~ 511:02,101@b | ""Hold! for God-sake ~~ you'll offend: 511:02,102@b | No Names ~~ be calm ~~ learn Prudence of a Friend: 511:02,103@b | I too could write, and I am twice as tall, 511:02,104@b | But Foes like these!"" 511:02,104[A ]| ~~ One Flatt'rer's worse than all; 511:02,105[A ]| Of all mad Creatures, if the Learn'd are right, 511:02,106[A ]| It is the Slaver kills, and not the Bite. 511:02,107[A ]| A Fool quite angry is quite innocent; 511:02,108[A ]| Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they \repent\. 511:02,109[A ]| One dedicates, in high Heroic prose, 511:02,110[A ]| And ridicules beyond a hundred foes; 511:02,111[A ]| One from all \Grubstreet\ will my fame defend, 511:02,112[A ]| And, more abusive, calls himself my friend. 511:02,113[A ]| This prints my Letters, that expects a Bribe, 511:02,114[A ]| And others roar aloud, 511:02,114@x | ""Subscribe, subscribe."" 511:02,115[A ]| There are, who to my Person pay their court, 511:02,116[A ]| I cough like \Horace\, and tho' lean, am short, 511:02,117[A ]| \Amnon's\ great Son one shoulder had too high, 511:02,118[A ]| Such \Ovid's\ nose, and 511:02,118@x | ""Sir! you have an \Eye\ ~~ "" 511:02,119[A ]| Go on, obliging Creatures, make me see 511:02,120[A ]| All that disgrac'd my Betters, met in me: 511:02,121[A ]| Say for my comfort, languishing in bed, 511:02,122@x | ""Just so immortal \Maro\ held his head:"" 511:02,123[A ]| And when I die, be sure you let me know 511:02,124[A ]| Great \Homer\ dy'd three thousand years ago. 511:02,125[A ]| Why did I write? what sin to me unknown 511:02,126[A ]| Dipt me in Ink, my Parents', or my own? 511:02,127[A ]| As yet a Child, nor yet a Fool to Fame, 511:02,128[A ]| I lisp'd in Numbers, for the Numbers came. 511:02,129[A ]| I left no Calling for this idle trade, 511:02,130[A ]| No Duty broke, no Father dis-obey'd. 511:02,131[A ]| The Muse but serv'd to ease some Friend, not Wife, 511:02,132[A ]| To help me thro' this long Disease, my Life, 511:02,133[A ]| To second, ARBUTHNOT! thy Art and Care, 511:02,134[A ]| And teach, the Being you preserv'd, to bear. 511:02,135[A ]| But why then publish? \Granville\ the polite, 511:02,136[A ]| And knowing \Walsh\, would tell me I could write; 511:02,137[A ]| Well-natur'd \Garth\ inflam'd with early praise, 511:02,138[A ]| And \Congreve\ lov'd, and \Swift\ endur'd my Lays; 511:02,139[A ]| The Courtly \Talbot, Somers, Sheffield\ read,, 511:02,140[A ]| Ev'n mitred \Rochester\ would nod the head, 511:02,141[A ]| And \St%*John's\ self (great \Dryden's\ friends before) 511:02,142[A ]| With open arms receiv'd one Poet more. 511:02,143[A ]| Happy my Studies, when by these approv'd! 511:02,144[A ]| Happier their Author, when by these belov'd! 511:02,145[A ]| From these the world will judge of Men and Books, 511:02,146[A ]| Not from the \Burnets, Oldmixons\, and \Cooks\. 511:02,147[A ]| Soft were my Numbers, who could take offence 511:02,148[A ]| While pure Description held the place of Sense? 511:02,149[A ]| Like gentle \Fanny's\ was my flow'ry Theme, 511:02,150[A ]| A painted Mistress, or a purling Stream. 511:02,151[A ]| Yet then did \Gildon\ draw his venal quill; 511:02,152[A ]| I wish'd the man a dinner, and sate still: 511:02,153[A ]| Yet then did \Dennis\ rave in furious fret; 511:02,154[A ]| I never answer'd, I was not in debt: 511:02,155[A ]| If want provok'd, or madness made them print, 511:02,156[A ]| I wag'd no war with \Bedlam\ or the \Mint\. 511:02,157[A ]| Did some more sober Critic come abroad? 511:02,158[A ]| If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod. 511:02,159[A ]| Pains, reading, study, are their just pretence, 511:02,160[A ]| And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense. 511:02,161[A ]| Comma's and points they set exactly right, 511:02,162[A ]| And 'twere a sin to rob them of their Mite. 511:02,163[A ]| Yet ne'r one sprig of Laurel grac'd these ribalds, 511:02,164[A ]| From slashing \Bentley\ down to pidling \Tibalds\. 511:02,165[A ]| Each Wight who reads not, and but scans and spells, 511:02,166[A ]| Each Word-catcher that lives on syllables, 511:02,167[A ]| Ev'n such small Critics some regard may claim, 511:02,168[A ]| Preserv'd in \Milton's\ or in \Shakespear's\ name. 511:02,169[A ]| Pretty! in Amber to observe the forms 511:02,170[A ]| Of airs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms; 511:02,171[A ]| The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, 511:02,172[A ]| But wonder how the Devil they got there? 511:02,173[A ]| Were others angry? I excus'd them too; 511:02,174[A ]| Well might they rage; I gave them but their due. 511:02,175[A ]| A man's true merit 'tis not hard to find, 511:02,176[A ]| But each man's secret standard in his mind, 511:02,177[A ]| That Casting-weight Pride addes to Emptiness, 511:02,178[A ]| This, who can gratify? for who can \guess\? 511:02,179[A ]| The Bard whom pilf'red Pastorals renown, 511:02,180[A ]| Who turns a \Persian\ Tale for half a crown, 511:02,181[A ]| Just writes to make his barrenness appear, 511:02,182[A ]| And strains from hard-bound brains eight lines a-year: 511:02,183[A ]| He, who still wanting tho' he lives on theft, 511:02,184[A ]| Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left: 511:02,185[A ]| And he, who now to sense, now nonsense learning, 511:02,186[A ]| Means not, but blunders round about a meaning: 511:02,187[A ]| And he, whose Fustian's so sublimely bad, 511:02,188[A ]| It is not Poetry, but Prose run mad: 511:02,189[A ]| All these, my modest Satire bad \translate\, 511:02,190[A ]| And own'd, that nine such Poets made a \Tate\. 511:02,191[A ]| How did they fume, and stamp, and roar, and chafe? 511:02,192[A ]| And swear, not \Addison\ himself was safe. 511:02,193[A ]| Peace to all such! but were there One whose fires 511:02,194[A ]| True Genius kindles, and fair Fame inspires, 511:02,195[A ]| Blest with each Talent and each Art to please, 511:02,196[A ]| And born to write, converse, and live with ease: 511:02,197[A ]| Shou'd such a man, too fond to rule alone, 511:02,198[A ]| Bear, like the \Turk\, no brother near the throne, 511:02,199[A ]| View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, 511:02,200[A ]| And hate for Arts that caus'd himself to rise; 511:02,201[A ]| Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 511:02,202[A ]| And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; 511:02,203[A ]| Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 511:02,204[A ]| Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike; 511:02,205[A ]| Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend, 511:02,206[A ]| A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend, 511:02,207[A ]| Dreading ev'n fools, by Flatterers besieg'd, 511:02,208[A ]| And so obliging that he ne'er oblig'd; 511:02,209[A ]| Like \Cato\, give his little Senate laws, 511:02,210[A ]| And sit attentive to his own applause; 511:02,211[A ]| While Wits and Templers ev'ry sentence raise, 511:02,212[A ]| And wonder with a foolish face of praise. 511:02,213[A ]| Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? 511:02,214[A ]| Who would not weep, if \Atticus\ were he! 511:02,215[A ]| What tho' my Name stood rubric on the walls? 511:02,216[A ]| Or plaister'd posts, with Claps in capitals? 511:02,217[A ]| Or smoaking forth, a hundred Hawkers load, 511:02,218[A ]| On Wings of Winds came flying all abroad? 511:02,219[A ]| I sought no homage from the Race that write; 511:02,220[A ]| I kept, like \Asian\ Monarchs, from their sight: 511:02,221[A ]| Poems I heeded (nor be-rym'd so long) 511:02,222[A ]| No more than Thou, great GEORGE! a Birth-day Song. 511:02,223[A ]| I ne'r with Wits or Witlings past my days, 511:02,224[A ]| To spread about the Itch of Verse and Praise; 511:02,225[A ]| Nor like a Puppy daggled thro' the Town, 511:02,226[A ]| To fetch and carry Sing-song up and down; 511:02,227[A ]| Nor at Rehearsals sweat, and mouth'd, and cry'd, 511:02,228[A ]| With Handkerchief and Orange at my side: 511:02,229[A ]| But sick of Fops, and Poetry, and Prate, 511:02,230[A ]| To \Bufo\ left the whole \Castalian\ State. 511:02,231[A ]| Proud, as \Apollo\ on his forked hill, 511:02,232[A ]| Sate full-blown \Bufo\, puff'd by ev'ry quill; 511:02,233[A ]| Fed with soft Dedication all day long, 511:02,234[A ]| \Horace\ and he went hand in hand in song. 511:02,235[A ]| His Library, (where Busts of Poets dead 511:02,236[A ]| And a true \Pindar\ stood without a head) 511:02,237[A ]| Receiv'd of Wits an undistinguish'd race, 511:02,238[A ]| Who first his Judgment ask'd, and then a Place: 511:02,239[A ]| Much they extoll'd his Pictures, much his Seat, 511:02,240[A ]| And flatter'd ev'ry day, and some days eat: 511:02,241[A ]| Till grown more frugal in his riper days, 511:02,242[A ]| He pay'd some Bards with Port, and some with Praise, 511:02,243[A ]| To some a dry Rehearsal was assign'd, 511:02,244[A ]| And others (harder still) he pay'd in kind. 511:02,245[A ]| \Dryden\ alone (what wonder?) came not nigh, 511:02,246[A ]| \Dryden\ alone escap'd this judging eye: 511:02,247[A ]| But still the Great have kindness in reserve, 511:02,248[A ]| He help'd to bury whom he help'd to starve. 511:02,249[A ]| May some choice Patron bless each gray goose quill! 511:02,250[A ]| May ev'ry \Bavius\ have his \Bufo\ still! 511:02,251[A ]| So, when a Statesman wants a Day's defence, 511:02,252[A ]| Or Envy holds a whole Week's war with Sense, 511:02,253[A ]| Or simple Pride for Flatt'ry makes demands; 511:02,254[A ]| May Dunce by Dunce be whistled off my hands! 511:02,255[A ]| Blest be the \Great\! for those they take away, 511:02,256[A ]| And those they left me ~~ For they left me GAY, 511:02,257[A ]| Left me to see neglected Genius bloom, 511:02,258[A ]| Neglected die! and tell it on his Tomb; 511:02,259[A ]| Of all thy blameless Life the sole Return 511:02,260[A ]| My Verse, and QUEENSB'RY weeping o'er thy Urn! 511:02,261[A ]| Oh let me live my own! and die so too! 511:02,262[A ]| (""To live and die is all I have to do:"") 511:02,263[A ]| Maintain a Poet's Dignity and Ease, 511:02,264[A ]| And see what friends, and read what books I please. 511:02,265[A ]| Above a Patron, tho' I condescend 511:02,266[A ]| Sometimes to call a Minister my Friend: 511:02,267[A ]| I was not born for Courts or great Affairs, 511:02,268[A ]| I pay my Debts, believe, and say my Pray'rs, 511:02,269[A ]| Can sleep without a Poem in my head, 511:02,270[A ]| Nor know, if \Dennis\ be alive or dead. 511:02,271[A ]| Why am I ask'd, what next shall see the light? 511:02,272[A ]| Heav'ns! was I born for nothing but to write? 511:02,273[A ]| Has Life no Joys for me? or (to be grave) 511:02,274[A ]| Have I no Friend to serve, no Soul to save? 511:02,275@x | ""I found him close with \Swift\"" ~~ 511:02,275@w | ""Indeed? no doubt"" 511:02,276[A ]| (Cries prating \Balbus\) 511:02,276@w | ""something will come out."" 511:02,277[A ]| 'Tis all in vain, deny it as I will. 511:02,278@w | ""No, such a Genius never can lye still,"" 511:02,279[A ]| And then for mine obligingly mistakes 511:02,280[A ]| The first Lampoon \Sir*Will%\ or \Bubo\ makes. 511:02,281[A ]| Poor guiltless I! and can I chuse but smile, 511:02,282[A ]| When ev'ry Coxcomb knowns me by my \Style\? 511:02,283[A ]| Curst be the Verse, how well soe'er it flow, 511:02,284[A ]| That tends to make one worthy Man my foe, 511:02,285[A ]| Give Virtue scandal, Innocence a fear, 511:02,286[A ]| Or from the soft-ey'd Virgin steal a tear! 511:02,287[A ]| But he, who hurts a harmless neighbour's peace, 511:02,288[A ]| Insults fal'n Worth, or Beauty in distress, 511:02,289[A ]| Who loves a Lye, lame slander helps about, 511:02,290[A ]| Who writes a Libel, or who copies out: 511:02,291[A ]| That Fop whose pride affects a Patron's name, 511:02,292[A ]| Yet absent, wounds an Author's honest fame; 511:02,293[A ]| Who can your Merit selfishly approve, 511:02,294[A ]| And show the Sense of it, without the Love; 511:02,295[A ]| Who has the Vanity to call you Friend, 511:02,296[A ]| Yet wants the Honour injur'd to defend; 511:02,297[A ]| Who tells whate'er you think, whate'er you say, 511:02,298[A ]| And, if he lye not, must at least betray: 511:02,299[A ]| Who to the \Dean\ and \silver Bell\ can swear, 511:02,300[A ]| And sees at \Cannons\ what was never there: 511:02,301[A ]| Who reads but with a Lust to mis-apply, 511:02,302[A ]| Make Satire a Lampoon, and Fiction, Lye. 511:02,303[A ]| A Lash like mine no honest man shall dread, 511:02,304[A ]| But all such babling blockheads in his stead. 511:02,305[A ]| Let \Sporus\ tremble !! 511:02,305@b | ""What? that Thing of silk, 511:02,306@b | \Sporus\, that mere white Curd of Ass's milk? 511:02,307@b | Satire or Sense alas! can \Sporus\ feel? 511:02,308@b | Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?"" 511:02,309[A ]| Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded wings, 511:02,310[A ]| This painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings; 511:02,311[A ]| Whose Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys, 511:02,312[A ]| Yet Wit ne'er tastes, and Beauty ne'er enjoys, 511:02,313[A ]| So well-bred Spaniels civilly delight 511:02,314[A ]| In mumbling of the Game they dare not bite. 511:02,315[A ]| Eternal Smiles his Emptiness betreay, 511:02,316[A ]| As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. 511:02,317[A ]| Whether in florid Impotence he speaks, 511:02,318[A ]| And, as the Prompter breathes, the Puppet squeaks; 511:02,319[A ]| Or at the Ear of \Eve\, familiar Toad, 511:02,320[A ]| Half Froth, half Venom, spits himself abroad, 511:02,321[A ]| In Puns, or Politics, or Tales, or Lyes, 511:02,322[A ]| Or Spite, or Smut, or Rymes, or Blasphemies. 511:02,323[A ]| His Wit all see-saw between \that\ and \this\, 511:02,324[A ]| Now high, now low, now Master up, now Miss, 511:02,325[A ]| And he himself one vile Antithesis. 511:02,326[A ]| Amphibious Thing! that acting either Part, 511:02,327[A ]| The trifling Head, or the corrupted Heart! 511:02,328[A ]| Fop at the Toilet, Flatt'rer at the Board, 511:02,329[A ]| Now trips a Lady, and now struts a Lord. 511:02,330[A ]| \Eve's\ Tempter thus the Rabbins have exprest, 511:02,331[A ]| A Cherub's face, a Reptile all the rest; 511:02,332[A ]| Beauty that shocks you, Parts that none will trust, 511:02,333[A ]| Wit that can creep, and Pride that licks the dust. 511:02,334[A ]| Not Fortune's Worshiper, nor Fashion's Fool, 511:02,335[A ]| Not Lucre's Madman, nor Ambition's Tool, 511:02,336[A ]| Not proud, nor servile, be one Poet's praise 511:02,337[A ]| That, if he pleas'd, he pleas'd by manly ways; 511:02,338[A ]| That Flatt'ry, ev'n to Kings, he held a shame, 511:02,339[A ]| And thought a Lye in Verse or Prose the same: 511:02,340[A ]| That not in Fancy's Maze he wander'd long, 511:02,341[A ]| But stoop'd to Truth, and moraliz'd his song: 511:02,342[A ]| That not for Fame, but Virtue's better end, 511:02,343[A ]| He stood the furious Foe, the timid Friend, 511:02,344[A ]| The damning Critic, half-approving Wit, 511:02,345[A ]| The Coxcomb hit, or fearing to be hit; 511:02,346[A ]| Laugh'd at the loss of Friends he never had, 511:02,347[A ]| The dull, the proud, the wicked, and the mad; 511:02,348[A ]| The distant Threats of Vengeance on his head, 511:02,349[A ]| The Blow unfelt, the Tear he never shed; 511:02,350[A ]| The tale reviv'd, the Lye so oft o'erthrown; 511:02,351[A ]| Th' imputed Trash, and Dulness not his own; 511:02,352[A ]| The Morals blacken'd when the Writings scape; 511:02,353[A ]| The libel'd Person, and the pictur'd Shape; 511:02,354[A ]| Abuse on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread, 511:02,355[A ]| A Friend in Exile, or a Father, dead; 511:02,356[A ]| The Whisper that to Greatness still too near, 511:02,357[A ]| Perhaps, yet vibrates on his SOVEREIGN'S Ear ~~ 511:02,358[A ]| Welcome for thee, fair Virtue! all the past: 511:02,359[A ]| For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev'n the \last\! 511:02,360@b | ""But why insult the Poor, affront the Great?"" 511:02,361[A ]| A Knave's a Knave, to me, in ev'ry State, 511:02,362[A ]| Alike my scorn, if he succeed or fail, 511:02,363[A ]| \Sporus\ at Court, or \Japhet\ in a Jayl, 511:02,364[A ]| A hireling Scribler, or a hireling Peer, 511:02,365[A ]| Knight of the Post corrupt, or of the Shire, 511:02,366[A ]| If on a Pillory, or near a Throne, 511:02,367[A ]| He gain his Prince's Ear, or lose his own. 511:02,368[A ]| Yet soft by Nature, more a Dupe than Wit, 511:02,369[A ]| \Sapho\ can tell you how this Man was bit 511:02,370[A ]| This dreaded Sat'rist \Dennis\ will confess 511:02,371[A ]| Foe to his Pride, but Friend to his Distress: 511:02,372[A ]| So humble, he has knock't at \Tibbald's\ door, 511:02,373[A ]| Has drunk with \Cibber\, nay has rym'd for \Moor\. 511:02,374[A ]| Full ten years slander'd, did he once reply? 511:02,375[A ]| Three thousand Suns went down on \Welsted's\ Lye: 511:02,376[A ]| To please a \Mistress\, One aspers'd his life; 511:02,377[A ]| He lash'd him not, but let her be his \Wife\: 511:02,378[A ]| Let \Budgel\ charge low \Grubstreet\ on his quill, 511:02,379[A ]| And write whate'er he pleas'd, except his \Will\; 511:02,380[A ]| Let the \Two Curls\ of Town and Court, abuse 511:02,381[A ]| His Father, Mother, Body, Soul, and Muse. 511:02,382[A ]| Yet why? that Father held it for a rule 511:02,383[A ]| It was a Sin to call our Neighbour Fool, 511:02,384[A ]| That harmless Mother thought no wife a Whore, ~~ 511:02,385[A ]| Hear this! and spare his Family, \James*More\! 511:02,386[A ]| Unspotted Names! and memorable long, 511:02,387[A ]| If there be Force in Virtue, or in Song. 511:02,388[A ]| Of gentle Blood (part shed in Honour's Cause, 511:02,389[A ]| While yet in \Britain\ Honour had Applause) 511:02,390[A ]| Each Parent sprung ~~ ""What Fortune, pray?"" ~~ 511:02,390[A ]| Their own, 511:02,391[A ]| And better got than \Bestia's\ from the Throne. 511:02,392[A ]| Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife, 511:02,393[A ]| Nor marrying Discord in a Noble Wife, 511:02,394[A ]| Stranger to Civil and Religious Rage, 511:02,395[A ]| The good Man walk'd innoxious thro' his Age. 511:02,396[A ]| No Courts he saw, no Suits would ever try, 511:02,397[A ]| Nor dar'd an Oath, nor hazarded a Lye: 511:02,398[A ]| Un-learn'd, he knew no Schoolman's subtle Art, 511:02,399[A ]| No Language, but the Language of the Heart. 511:02,400[A ]| By Nature honest, by Experience wise, 511:02,401[A ]| Healthy by Temp'rance and by Exercise: 511:02,402[A ]| His Life, tho' long, to sickness past unknown, 511:02,403[A ]| His Death was instant, and without a groan. 511:02,404[A ]| Oh grant me thus to live, and thus to die! 511:02,405[A ]| Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy than I. 511:02,406[A ]| O Friend! may each Domestick Bliss be thine! 511:02,407[A ]| Be no unpleasing Melancholy mine: 511:02,408[A ]| Me, let the tender Office long engage 511:02,409[A ]| To rock the Cradle of reposing Age, 511:02,410[A ]| With lenient Arts extend a Mother's breath, 511:02,411[A ]| Make Languor smile, and smooth the Bed of Death, 511:02,412[A ]| Explore the Thought, explain the asking Eye, 511:02,413[A ]| And keep a while one Parent from the Sky! 511:02,414[A ]| On Cares like these if Length of days attend, 511:02,415[A ]| May Heav'n, to bless those days, preserve my Friend, 511:02,416[A ]| Preserve his social, chearful, and serene, 511:02,417[A ]| And just as rich as when he serv'd a QUEEN! 511:02,418[A ]| Whether that Blessing be deny'd, or giv'n, 511:02,419[A ]| Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n.