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As thick as bees o'er vernal blofsoms fly, 25 As thick as eggs at Ward in Pillory.r .
Wond'ring he gaz’d: When lo! a Sage appears, By his broad shoulders known, and length of ears, Known by the band and suit which Settle wore, (His only fuit) for twice three years before: 30 All as the vest, appear'd the wearer's frame, Old in new state, another yet the same. Bland and familiar as in life, begun
Thus the great Father to the greater Son. .: Oh born to see what none can see awake! Behold the wonders of th' oblivious Lake. Thou, yet unborn, hast touch'd this sacred shore ; The hand of Bavius drench'd thee o'er and o'er. But blind to former, as to future Fate, What mortal knows his pre-existent state?. 40 Who knows how long, thy transmigrating foul Might from Bæotian to Bæotian roll! How many Dutchmen she vouchsafd to thrid ? How many stages thro' old Monks she rid? And all who since, in mild benighted days, Mix'd the Owl's ivy with the Poet's bays ? As man's mæanders to the vital spring Roll all their tydes, then back their circles bring; Or whirligigs, twirl'd round by skilful swain, Suck the thread in, then yield it out again : 50 All nonsense thus, of old or modern date, Shall in thee center, from thee circulate.. For this, our Queen unfolds to vision true Thy mental eye, for thou hast much to view :
Old scenes of glory, times long cast behind 55
Ascend this hill, whose cloudy point commands
f th's wide extreams) her fable flag display'd ;
faf eastward cast thine eye, from whence the Sun
Thence to the south extend thy gladden'd eyes ;
How little, mark! that portion of the ball, 75
eferic! and Attila's dread name!
See, the bold Ostrogoths on Latium fall; 85
Lo Rome herself, proud mistress now no more
Behold yon' Inle, by Palmers, Pilgrims trod, 105. Men bearded, bald, cowl’d, uncowld, shod, unsaad, Peeld, patch'd, and pyebald, linsey-woolsey brothers, Grave mummers! sleeveless fome, and shirtless others. That once was Britain—Happy! had she seen No fiercer fons, had Easter never been! In peace, great Goddess, ever be ador'd; How keen the war, if Dulness draw the sword ? Thus visit not thy own! on this blest age , Oh spread thy Influence, but restrain thy Rage.
And see! my son, the hour is on its way, 115 That lifts our Goddess to imperial fway; This fav’rite Ife, long sever'd from her reign, Dove like, she gathers to her wings again. “ Now look thro’ Fate ! behold the fcene The draws! What aids, what armies, to affert her cause? 120 See all her progeny, illustrious fight! Behold, and count them, as they rise to light: As Berecynthia, while her off-spring vye In homage, to the Mother of the sky, Surveys around her in the blest abode A hundred sons, and every fon a God: Not with less glory mighty Dulness crown'd Shall take thro’ Grubstreet her triumphant round, And her Parnassus glancing o'er at once, Behold a hundred sons, and each a dunce. 130
Mark first that youth who takes the foremost place,
Lo next two slip-shod Muses traipfe along,
B B 2
Haywood, Centlivre, glories of their race! 145
Silence, ye Wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls, And makes Night hideous—Answer him ye Owls!
Sense, speech, and measure, living tongues and dead, Let all give way—and Morris may be read.
Flow Welsted, flow! like thine inspirer Beer,
Ah Dennis! Gildon ah! what ill-starr'd rage
Behold yon Pair, in strict embraces join'd; i