THE DUNCIA D: то DR. JONATHAN SWIFT. ARGUMENT to Book the FIRST. THE Propofition, the Invocation, and the Infcription. Then the Original of the great Empire of Dulness, and cause of the continuance thereof. The beloved feat of the Goddess is defcribed, with her chief attendants and officers, her functions, operations, and effects. Then the poem haftes into the midst of things, prefenting her on the evening of a Lord Mayor's day, revolving the long fucceffion of her fons, and the glories paft and to come. She fixes her eye on Tibbald to be the inftrument of that great event which is the Subject of the poem. He is defcribed pensive in his study, giving up the cause, and apprehending the period of her empire from the old age of the prefent monarch Settle: Wherefore debating whether to betake himself to Law or Politicks, he raises an altar of proper books, and (making first his folemn prayer and declaration) purposes thereon to facrifice all his unfuccefsful writings. As the pile is kindled, the Goddess beholding the flame from her VOL. V. Ꮓ Seat, feat, flies in perfon and puts it out, by cafting upon it the poem of Thule. She forthwith reveals herfelf to him, tranSports him to her Temple, unfolds her arts, and initiates him into her myfteries; then announcing the death of Settle that night, anoints, and proclaims him Succeffor. BOOK I. Books and the Man I fing, the first who brings The Smithfield Mufes to the Ear of Kings. Say great Patricians! (fince yourselves inspire Thefe wond'rous works: fo Jove and Fate require) Say from what cause, in vain decry'd and curst, Still Dunce the second reigns like Dunce the first. In eldest time, e'er mortals writ or read, E'er Pallas iffu'd from the Thund'rer's head, Dulness o'er all poffefs'd her antient right, Daughter of Chaos and eternal Night: Fate in their dotage this fair ideot gave, Grofs as her fire, and as her mother grave, Laborious, heavy, bufy, bold, and blind, She rul'd in native Anarchy, the mind. Still her old empire to confirm, she tries, O THOU! whatever Title please thine ear, 5 10 15 20 Grieve not, my SWIFT at ought our realm acquires, Here pleas'd behold her mighty wings out-fpread, 25 Where wave the tatter'd enfigns of Rag-fair, Here in one bed two shiv'ring Sisters lye, 30 This, the Great Mother dearer held than all ; 40 Hence the foft fing-fong on Cecilia's day, 50 Where, in nice balance, truth with gold fhe weighs, And folid pudding against empty praise. Here she beholds the Chaos dark and deep, Where, nameless. Somethings in their caufes fleep, |