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imitate, he has informed us in his advertisement. To which we may add, that this sort of imitations, which are of the nature of parodies, adds reflected grace and splendour on original wit. Besides, he deemed it more modest to give the name of imitations to his satire, than, like Despreaux, to give the name of satires to imitations,
BOOK II.-SATIRE I.
TO MR FORTESCUE.
P. Not write ? but then I think,
P. What, like sir Richard ! rumbling, rough, and fierce With arms,and George and Brunswick crowd the verse
Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder,
F. Then all your muse's softer art display;
P. Alas! few verses touch their nicer ear;
F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it still,
P. What should ail 'em ?
P. Each mortal has his pleasure: none deny
My head and heart thus flowing through my quill,
Satire 's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
Slander or poison dread from Delia's rage ;
Then, learned sir! (to cut the matter short) Whate'er my fate, or well or ill at court; Whether old age, with faint but cheerful ray, Attends to gild the evening of my day, Or Death's black wing already be display'd, To wrap me in the universal shade ; Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skewer to write; In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print
F. Alas, young man! your days can ne'er be .ong In flower of age you perish for a song! Plums and directors, Shylock and his wife, Will club their testers, now, to take your life!
P. What! arm'd for Virtue when I point the per Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men; Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car; Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a star; Can there be wanting, to defend her cause, Lights of the church, or guardians of the laws ? Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain Flatterers and bigots e'en in Louis' reign ? Could laureat Dryden pimp and friar engage, Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage ? And I not strip the gilding off a knave, Unplaced, unpension'd, no man's heir or slave? I will, or perish in the generous cause : Hear this, and tremble! you who 'scape the laws. Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave: To Virtue only and her friends a friend, The world beside may murmur or commend. Know, all the distant din that world can keep, Rolls o'er my grotto, and but soothes my sleep. There, my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place. There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul : And he, whose lightning pierced the Iberian lines, Now forms my quincunx, and now ranks my vines ; Or tames the genius of the stubborn plain, Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.
Envy must own, I live among the great, No pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state : With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats, Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats ; To help who want, to forward who excel; This, all who know me, know, who love me, tell;
And who unknown defame me, let them be
F. Your plea is good; but still I say, beware!
P. Libels and satires ! lawless things indeed !
BOOK II.-SATIRE II.
TO MR. BETHEL. What, and how great, the virtue and the art To live on little with a cheerful heart! (A doctrine sage, but truly none of mine ;) Let's talk, my friends, but talk before we dine. Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride Turns you from sound philosophy aside : Not when from plate to plate your eye-balls roll, And the brain dances to the mantling bowl.
Hear Bethel's sermon, one not versed in schools, But strong in sense, and wise without the rules.
“Go work, hunt, exercise,' he thus began, •Then scorn a homely dinner, if you can.