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The morals blacken'd when the writings 'scape,
The libeld person, and the pictur'd shape;
Abuse, on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread,
A friend in exile, or a father, dead; 355
The whisper, that to greatness still too near,
Perhaps, yet vibrates on his Sov'Reign's ear ---
Welcome for thee, fair Virtue ! all the past:
For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev’n the last!
. A. But why insult the poor, affront the great?360
P,Aknave's a knave, to me, in ev'ry state :

Ver. 351, TH? imputed traß] Such as profane Psalms,
Court. Poems, and other scandalous things, printed in his Name
by Curl and others.

P. VER. 354, Abuse, an all be low'd, ar lovåd him, spread,] Namely on the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Burlington, Lord Bathurst, Lord Bolingbroke, Bishop Atterbury, Dr. Swift, Dr. Arbuthnot, Mr. Gay, his Friends, his Parents, and his very Nurse, aspersed in printed papers, by James Moore, G. Ducket, L. Welsted, Tho. Bentley, and other obscure persons. P,

VER, 356. The whisper, that ta greatness fill top near,] By the whisper is meant calumniating honest Characters. Shake, spear has finely expressed this office of the sycophant of greats ness in the following line:

Rain facrificial whisperings in his ear. By which is meant the immolating mens reputations to the vice or vanity of his Patron, Ver: 357. Perhaps, vet vibrates] What force and elegance

andhele of expression! which, in one word, conveys to us the physical effects of sound, and the moral effects of an often repeated scandal,

Ver. 359. Fur thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev'n the last!) This line is remarkable for presenting us with the most amiable image of steddy Virtue, mixed with a modest concern for his

Alike my scorn, if he succeed or fail,
Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail,
A hireling scribler, or a hireling peer,
Knight of the post corrupt, or of the thire; 365
If on a Pillory, or near a Throne,
He gain his Prince's ear, or lose his own.

Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit,
Sappho can tell you how this man was bit:
This dreaded Sat’rist Dennis will confefs 370
Foe to his pride, but friend to his distress:
So humble, he has knock'd at Tibbald's door,
Has drunk with Cibber, nay has rhym'd for Moor.
Full ten years flander'd, did he once reply?
Three thousand funs went down on Welfted's lye.

Ver. 368. in the MS.

Once, and but once, his heedless youth was bit,
And lik'd that dang'rous thing, a female wit:
Safe as he thought, tho' all the prudent chid;
He writ no Libels, but my Lady did:
Great cdds in am'rous or poetic game,
Where Woman's is the sin, and Man's the fhame,

NOTES. being forced to undergo the severeft proofs of his love for it, which was the being thought hardly of by his SOVEREIGN.

l'ER. 374. ten years! It was so long after many libels bekre the Author of the Dunciad pub.hed that poeń, till when, he never writ a word in aniwer to the many fcurrilities and haithoods concerning him.


Who has the vanity to call you friend, 295
Yet wants the honour, injur’d, to defend;
Who tells whate’er you think, whate’er you say,
And, if he lye not, must at least betray:
Who to the Dean, and silver bell can swear,
And sees at Cannons what was never there; 300
Who reads, but with a lust to misapply,
Make Satire a Lampoon, and Fiction Lye.
A lash like mine no honest man shall dread,
But all such babling blockheads in his stead.

Let Sporus tremble ---A.What? that thing of filk,
Sporus, that mere white curd of Ass's milk? 306
Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel ?

NOTE S. Ver. 295. Who has the vanity to call you friend, Yet wants the honour, injur'd, to defend ;] When a great Genius, whose writings have afforded the world much pleasure and instruction, happens to be enviously attacked, or fallly accused, it is natural to think, that a sense of gratitude for fo agreeable an obligation, or a sense of that honour resulting to our Country from such a Writer, should raise amongst those who call themselves his friends, a pretty general indignation. But every day's expe. rience thews us the very contrary. Some take a malignant satisfaction in the attack; others a foolish pleasure in a literary conflict; and the far greater part look on with a selfish indif. · ference.

Ver. 299. Who to the Dean, and silver bell &c.] Meaning the man who would have persuaded the Duke of Chandos that Mr. P. meant him in those circumstances ridiculed in the Epiftle on Tafe. See Mr. Pope's Letter to the Earl of Burlington concerning this matter.

P. Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,
This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings;
Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, 311
Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys :
So well-bred spaniels civilly delight
In mumbling of the game they dare not bite.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, 315
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Whether in florid impotence he speaks,
And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks ;
Or at the ear of Eve, familiar Toad,
Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, 320
In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies,
Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
His wit all see-saw, between that and this, 2
Now high, now low, now master up, now miss, >
And he himself one vile Antithesis., 325)
Amphibious thing! that acting either part,
The trifling head, or the corrupted heart,

Notes, VER. 319. See Milton, Book iv.

Ver. 326. Half froth,] Alluding to those frothy excretions, called by the people, Toad-spits, seen in summer time hanging upon plants, and emitted by young insects which lie hid in the midst of them, for their preservation, while in their helpless ftate.

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Fop at the toilet, flatt'rer at the board,
Now trips a Lady, and now struts a Lord.
Eve's tempter thus the Rabbins have expreít, 330
A Cherub's face, a reptile all the rest,
Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust,
Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.

Not Fortune's worshiper, nor Fashion’s fool,
Not Lucre’s madman, nor Ambition's tool, 335
Not proud, nor servile; Be one Poet's praise,
That, if he pleas’d, he pleas’d by manly ways:
That Flatt’ry, ev'n to Kings, he held a shame,
And thought a Lye in verse or prose the same.,
That not in Fancy's maze he wander'd long, 340
But stoop’d to Truth, and moraliz’d his song:

NOTES. VER. 340. That not in Fancy's maze he wander'd long,] His merit in this will appear very great, if we consider, that in this walk he had all the advantages which the most poetic Imagination could give to a great Genius. M.Voltaire, in a MS. letter now before me, writes thus from England to a friend in Paris. “ I intend to send you two or three poems of Mr. Pope, the “ best poet of England, and at present of all the world. I hope “ you are acquainted enough with the English tongue, to be « sensible of all the charms of his works. For my part, I look " upon his poem called the Esay on Criticism as superior to " the Art of poetry of Horace; and his Rape of the Lock is, in "s my opinion, above the Lutrin of Despreaux. I never saw « so amiable an imagination, so gentle graces, fo great variety, " so much wit, and so refined knowledge of the world, as in to this little perforinance." MS. Let. Oct. 15, 1726.

VER. 341. But fiocidio Truih, and moralizd his song :) This

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