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ON MR. GAY.

In Westminster Abbey, 1732. Op manners gentle, of affections mild; In wit, a man; simplicity, a child: With native humour tempering virtuous rage, Form'd to delight at once and lash the age : Above temptation in a low estate, And uncorrupted, e'en among the great:. A safe companion, and an easy friend, Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end. These are thy honours! not that here thy bust Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust; But that the worthy and the good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms-Here lies Gay!

ANOTHER.

Well, then! poor Gay lies under ground,

So there's an end of honest Jack:
So little justice here he found,

"Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back.

INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON.

In Westminster Abbey.
ISAACUS NEWTONUS:

Quem Immortalem
Testantur Tempus, Natura, Colum:

Mortalem

Hoc Marmor Fatetur.
NATURB and Nature'& laws lay hid in night:
God said, ' Let Newton be!' and all was light.

ON DR. FRANCIS ATTERBURY,

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER.

Who died in Exile in Paris, 1732. (His only daughter having expired in his arms, immediately

after she arrived in France to see him.)

DIALOGUE. She. Yes, we have lived-one pang, and then we

part! May Heaven, dear father! now have all thy heart. Yet, ah! how once we loved, remember still, Till you are dust like me. He.

Dear shade! I will: Then mix this dust with thine-0 spotless ghost! O more than fortune, friends, or country lost ! Is there on earth one care, one wish beside ? Yes—Save my country, Heaven,'-He said, and

died.

ON EDMUND DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM,

Who died in the 19th year of his age, 1735.
IP modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd,
And every opening virtue blooming round,
Could save a parent's justest pride from fate,
Or add one patriot to a sinking state;
This weeping marble had not ask'd thy tear,
Or sadly told, how many hopes lie here!
The living virtue now had shone approved,
The senate heard him, and his country loved.
Yet softer honours, and less noisy fame
Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham:
Io whom a race, for courage famed and art,
Ends in the milder merit of the heart;
And, chiefs or sages long to Britain given,
Pays the last tribute of a saint to Heaven.

FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED

IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

HEROES and kings ! your distance keep;
In peace let one poor poet sleep,
Who never flatter'd folks like you :
Let Horace blush, and Virgil too.

ANOTHER, ON THE SAME. UNDER this marble, or under this sill, Or under this turf, or e'en what they will; Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead, Or any good creature shall lay o’er my head; Lies one who ne'er cared, and still cares not a pin, What they said, or may say, of the mortal within: But who, living and dying, serene still and free, Trusts in God, that as well as he was, he shall be.

LORD CONINGSBY'S EPITAPH..
HERB lies Lord Coningsby-be civil;
The rest God knows-80 does the devil.

ON BUTLER'S MONUMENT.

Perhaps by Mr. Pope.t
Respect to Dryden, Sheffield justly paid,
And noble Villiers honour'd Cowley's shade :
But whence this Barber 1-that a name so mean
Should, join'd with Butler's, on a tomb be seen:

*This epitaph, originally written on Picus Mirandula, is applied to F. Chartres, and printed among the works of Swift. See Hawkesworth's edition, vol. vi.-S.

Mr. Pope, in one of the prints from Scheemaker's monument of Shakspeare in Westminster Abbey, has sufficiently shewn his contempt of Alderman Barber, by the following couplet, which is substituted in the place of the cloud-capt towers,' &c.

• Thus Britain loved me; and preserved my fame,

Clear from a Barber's, or a Benson's name.'-A. Pope. Pope might probably have suppressed his satire on the alder.

This pyramid would better far proclaim,
To future ages humbler Settle's name:
Poet and patron then had been well paird,
The city printer, and the city bard.
man, because he was one of Swift's acquaintances and corre-
spondents; though in the fourth book of the Dunciad he has an
anonymous stroke at him:

. So by each bard an alderman shall sit,
A heavy lord shall hang at every wit.-S.

IN FOUR BOOKS; With the Prolegomena of Scriblerus, the Hypercritics

of Aristarchus, and Notes Variorum.

A LETTER TO THE PUBLISHER,
Occasioned by the first correct Edition of the

Dunciad. It is with pleasure I hear that you have procured a correct copy of the Dunciad, which the many surreptitious ones have rendered so necessary; and it is yet with more, that I am informed it will be attended with a ccmmentary: a work so requisite, that I cannot think the author himself could have omitted it, had he approved of the first appearance of this poem.

Such notes as have occurred to me I herewith send you: you will oblige me by inserting them amongst those which are, or will be transmitted to you by others; since not only the author's friends, but even strangers, appear engaged by humanity, to take some care of an orphan of so much genius and spirit, which its parent seems to have abandoned from the very beginning, and suffered to step into the world naked, unguarded, and unattended.

It was upon reading some of the abusive papers lately published, that my great regard to a person, whose friendship I esteem as one of the chief honours of my life, and a much greater respect to truth, than to him or any man living, engaged me in inquiries, of which the inclosed notes are the fruit.

I perceived that most of these authors had been (doubtless very wisely) the first aggressors. They had tried, till they were weary, what was to be got by railing at each other: nobody was either concerned or surprised, if this or that scribbler was proved a dunce. But every one was curious to read what could be said to prove Mr. Pope one, and was ready to pay something for such a discovery; a stratagem which,

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