159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,000[' ]| < ~~ Tanti tibi non sit opaci> 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,001[A ]| As some raw youth in country bred, 159:04,002[A ]| To arms by thirst of honour led, 159:04,003[A ]| When at a skirmish first he hears 159:04,004[A ]| The bullets whistling round his ears, 159:04,005[A ]| Will duck his head, aside will start, 159:04,006[A ]| And feel a trembling at his heart: 159:04,007[A ]| Till, scaping oft without a wound, 159:04,008[A ]| Lessens the terror of the sound: 159:04,009[A ]| Fly bullets now as thick as hops, 159:04,010[A ]| He runs into the cannon's chops. <10> 159:04,011[A ]| An author thus who pants for fame 159:04,012[A ]| Begins the world with fear and shame, 159:04,013[A ]| When first in print, you see him dread 159:04,014[A ]| Each pot-gun levelled at his head: 159:04,015[A ]| The lead yon critic's quill contains, 159:04,016[A ]| Is destined to beat out his brains. 159:04,017[A ]| As if he heard loud thunders roll, 159:04,018[A ]| Cries, Lord have mercy on his soul; 159:04,019[A ]| Concluding, that another shot 159:04,020[A ]| Will strike him dead upon the spot: <20> 159:04,021[A ]| But, when with squibbing, flashing, popping, 159:04,022[A ]| He cannot see one creature dropping: 159:04,023[A ]| That, missing fire, or missing aim, 159:04,024[A ]| His life is safe, I mean his fame, 159:04,025[A ]| The danger past, takes heart of grace, 159:04,026[A ]| And looks a critic in the face. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,027[A ]| Though splendour gives the fairest mark 159:04,028[A ]| To poisoned arrows from the dark, 159:04,029[A ]| Yet, "in yourself when smooth and round", 159:04,030[A ]| They glance aside without a wound. <30> 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,031[A ]| 'Tis said, the gods tried all their art, 159:04,032[A ]| How, pain they might from pleasure part: 159:04,033[A ]| But, little could their strength avail, 159:04,034[A ]| Both still are fastened by the tail. 159:04,035[A ]| Thus, fame and censure with a tether 159:04,036[A ]| By fate are always linked together. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,037[A ]| Why will you aim to be preferred 159:04,038[A ]| In wit before the common herd? 159:04,039[A ]| And yet, grow mortified and vexed 159:04,040[A ]| To pay the penalty annexed. <40> 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,041[A ]| 'Tis eminence makes envy rise, 159:04,042[A ]| As fairest fruits attract the flies. 159:04,043[A ]| Should stupid libels grieve your mind, 159:04,044[A ]| You soon a remedy my find; 159:04,045[A ]| Lie down obscure like other folks 159:04,046[A ]| Below the lash of snarlers' jokes. 159:04,047[A ]| Their faction is five hundred odds, 159:04,048[A ]| For every coxcomb lends them rods; 159:04,049[A ]| Can sneer as learnedly as they, 159:04,050[A ]| Like females o'er their morning tea. <50> 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,051[A ]| You say, the muse will not contain, 159:04,052[A ]| And write you must, or break a vein: 159:04,053[A ]| Then, if you find the terms too hard, 159:04,054[A ]| No longer my advice regard: 159:04,055[A ]| But raise your fancy on the wing; 159:04,056[A ]| The Irish senate's praises sing: 159:04,057[A ]| How jealous of the nation's freedom, 159:04,058[A ]| And, for corruptions, how they weed 'em. 159:04,059[A ]| How each the public good pursues, 159:04,060[A ]| How far their hearts from private views, <60> 159:04,061[A ]| Make all true patriots up to shoe-boys 159:04,062[A ]| Huzza their brethren at the Blue Boys'. 159:04,063[A ]| Thus grown a member of the club, 159:04,064[A ]| No longer dread the rage of Grub. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,065[A ]| How oft am I for rhyme to seek? 159:04,066[A ]| To dress a thought, may toil a week; 159:04,067[A ]| And then, how thankful to the town, 159:04,068[A ]| If all my pains will earn a crown. 159:04,069[A ]| Whilst, every critic can devour 159:04,070[A ]| My work and me in half an hour. <70> 159:04,071[A ]| Would men of genius cease to write, 159:04,072[A ]| The rogues must die for want and spite; 159:04,073[A ]| Must die for want of food and raiment, 159:04,074[A ]| If scandal did not find them payment. 159:04,075[A ]| How cheerfully the hawkers cry 159:04,076[A ]| A satire, and the gentry buy! 159:04,077[A ]| While my hard-laboured poem pines 159:04,078[A ]| Unsold upon the printer's lines. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,079[A ]| A genius in the reverend gown, 159:04,080[A ]| Must ever keep its owner down: <80> 159:04,081[A ]| 'Tis an unnatural conjunction, 159:04,082[A ]| And spoils the credit of the function. 159:04,083[A ]| Round all your brethren cast your eyes, 159:04,084[A ]| Point out the surest men to rise, 159:04,085[A ]| That club of candidates in black, 159:04,086[A ]| The least deserving of the pack: 159:04,087[A ]| Aspiring, factious, fierce and loud; 159:04,088[A ]| With grace and learning unendowed, 159:04,089[A ]| Can turn their hands to every job, 159:04,090[A ]| The fittest tools to work for Bob: <90> 159:04,091[A ]| Will sooner coin a thousand lies 159:04,092[A ]| Than suffer men of parts to rise: 159:04,093[A ]| They crowd about preferment's gate, 159:04,094[A ]| And press you down with all their weight. 159:04,095[A ]| For, as of old, mathematicians 159:04,096[A ]| Were by the vulgar thought magicians; 159:04,097[A ]| So academic dull ale-drinkers 159:04,098[A ]| Pronounce all men of wit, free-thinkers. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,099[A ]| Wit, as the chief of virtue's friends, 159:04,100[A ]| Disdains to serve ignoble ends. <100> 159:04,101[A ]| Observe what loads of stupid rhymes 159:04,102[A ]| Oppress us in corrupted times: 159:04,103[A ]| What pamphlets in a court's defence 159:04,104[A ]| Show reason, grammar, truth, or sense? 159:04,105[A ]| For, though the muse delights in fiction, 159:04,106[A ]| She ne'er inspires against conviction. 159:04,107[A ]| Then keep your virtue still unmixed, 159:04,108[A ]| And let not faction come betwixt. 159:04,109[A ]| By party-steps no grandeur climb at, 159:04,110[A ]| Though it would make you England's primate: <110> 159:04,111[A ]| First learn the science to be dull, 159:04,112[A ]| You then may soon your conscience lull; 159:04,113[A ]| If not, however seated high, 159:04,114[A ]| Your genius in your face will fly. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,115[A ]| When Jove was, from his teeming head, 159:04,116[A ]| Of wit's fair goddess brought to bed, 159:04,117[A ]| There followed at his lying-in 159:04,118[A ]| For after-birth, a sooterkin; 159:04,119[A ]| Which, as the nurse pursued to kill, 159:04,120[A ]| Attained by flight the muses' hill; <120> 159:04,121[A ]| There in the soil began to root, 159:04,122[A ]| And littered at Parnassus' foot. 159:04,123[A ]| From hence the vermin-critic sprung, 159:04,124[A ]| With harpy claws and poisonous tongue, 159:04,125[A ]| Who fatten on poetic scraps; 159:04,126[A ]| Too cunning to be caught in traps. 159:04,127[A ]| Dame Nature, as the learned show, 159:04,128[A ]| Provides each animal its foe: 159:04,129[A ]| Hounds hunt the hare, the wily fox 159:04,130[A ]| Devours your geese, the wolf your flocks: <130> 159:04,131[A ]| Thus, envy pleads a natural claim 159:04,132[A ]| To persecute the muses' fame; 159:04,133[A ]| On poets in all times abusive, 159:04,134[A ]| From Homer down to Pope inclusive. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,135[A ]| Yet, what avails it to complain? 159:04,136[A ]| You try to take revenge in vain. 159:04,137[A ]| A rat your utmost rage defies 159:04,138[A ]| That safe behind the wainscot lies. 159:04,139[A ]| Say, did you ever know by sight 159:04,140[A ]| In cheese an individual mite? <140> 159:04,141[A ]| Show me the same numeric flea, 159:04,142[A ]| That bit your neck but yesterday: 159:04,143[A ]| You then may boldly go in quest 159:04,144[A ]| To find the Grub Street poet's nest. 159:04,145[A ]| What sponging-house in dread of gaol 159:04,146[A ]| Receives them while they wait for bail? 159:04,147[A ]| What alley are they nestled in, 159:04,148[A ]| To flourish o'er a cup of gin? 159:04,149[A ]| Find the last garret where they lay; 159:04,150[A ]| Or cellar, where they starve today: <150> 159:04,151[A ]| Suppose you had them all trepanned 159:04,152[A ]| With each a libel in his hand: 159:04,153[A ]| What punishment would you inflict? 159:04,154[A ]| Or call 'em rogues, ot get them kicked: 159:04,155[A ]| These they have often tried before; 159:04,156[A ]| You but oblige 'em so much more: 159:04,157[A ]| Themselves would be the first to tell, 159:04,158[A ]| To make their trash the better sell. 159:04,000[' ]| 159:04,159[A ]| You have been libelled ~~ let us know 159:04,160[A ]| What fool officious told you so. <160> 159:04,161[A ]| Will you regard the hawker's cries 159:04,162[A ]| Who in his titles always lies? 159:04,163[A ]| Whate'er the noisy scoundrel says 159:04,164[A ]| It might be something in your praise: 159:04,165[A ]| And praise bestowed in Grub Street rhymes, 159:04,166[A ]| Would vex one more a thousand times. 159:04,167[A ]| Till critics blame, and judges praise, 159:04,168[A ]| The poet cannot claim his bays; 159:04,169[A ]| On me, when dunces are satiric, 159:04,170[A ]| I take it for a panegyric. <170> 159:04,171[A ]| "Hated by fools, and fools to hate", 159:04,172[A ]| Be that my motto, and my fate.