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The Champion too! and, to complete the jest,
Old Edward's Armour beams on Cibber's breaft.,
With laughter sure Democritus had dy'd, 320
Had he beheld an Audience gape so wide.
Let Bear or Elephant be e'er so white,
The people, sure, the people are the sight!
Ah luckless - Poet! stretch thy lungs and roar,
That Bear or Elephant shall heed thee more; 325
While all its i throats the Gallery extends,
And all the Thunder of the Pit ascends !
Loud as the Wolves, on k Orcas' stormy steep,
Howl to the roarings of the Northern deep.
Such is the shout, the long-applauding note, 330
At Quin's high plume, or Oldfield's ' petticoat ;
Or when from Court a birth-day suit bestow'd,
Sinks the m lost Actor in the tawdry load.'
Booth enters - hark! the Universal peal!
“ But has he spoken ?” Not a syllable. 335
What shook the stage, and made the people stare ?
* Cato's long Wig, flow'r'd gown, and lacquer'd chair.

Yet lest you think I railly more than teach,
Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,

Notes. contention, the Armour of one of the Kings of England was borrowed from the Tower, to dress the Chimpion. P.

Ver. 328. Orcas' stormy steep.] The farcielt Northern Promontory of Scotland, opposite to the Orcades. P.

Ille per extentum funem mihi possexvidetur

Ire poeta ; o meum qui pectus inaniter angit,

Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet,

Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.

? Verum age, et his, qui fe letori credere malunt,

Quam fpeclatoris fastidia ferre fuperbi,

Curam impende brevem : fi 9 munus Apolline dignam

Vis complere libris ; et vatibus addere calcar,

Ut studio majore petant Helicona virentem.

Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetac, (Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum

Solicito damus, aut felo: cum laedimur, ' unum

Notes. VER. 347. To Thebes, to Athens, etc.) i. e. is equally knowing in the manners of the most different people ; and has the kill to employ those manners with decorum.

Let me for once prefume t'instruct the times, 34
To know the Poet from the Man of rhymes :
'Tis he, o who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Passion that he feigns;
Inrage, compose, with more than magic Art,
With Pity, and with Terror, tear my heart; 345
And snatch me, o'er the earth, or thro' the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.

p But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deserves the favour of the Great:

Think of those Authors, Sir, who would rely 350
More on a Reader's sense, than Gazer's eye.
Or who shall wander where the Muses sing?
Who climb their mountain, or who taste their spring?
How shall we fill 9 a Library with Wit,
When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet? 355

My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought,
I guess; and, with their leave, will tell the fault:
We' Poets-are (upon a Poet's word)
Of all mankind, the creatures most absurd :
The s season, when to come, and when to go, 360
To fing, or cease to fing, we never know;

Ver. 354. a Library] Munus Apolline dignum. The Pa.
latine Library then building by Augustus. P.

Ver. 355. Merlin's Cave] A Building in the Royal Garden of Richmond, where is a smal', but choice Collection of Books. P.

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Si quis amicorum eft ausus reprendere versum:
Cum loca jam 'recitata revolvimus irrevocati :
Cum " lamentamur non apparere labores
Noftros, et tenui deducta poemata fila;
Cum * speramus eo rem venturam, ut, fimul atque
Carmina rescieris nos fingere, commodus ultro
Arceffas, et egere vetes, et scribere cogas.
Sed tamen est y operae precium cognoscere, quales
Aedituos habeat belli spectata domique
Virtus, ? indigno non committenda poetae.

a Gratus Alexandro regi Magnò fuit ille
Choerilus, incultis qui versibus et male natis
Rettulit acceptos, regale numisma, Philippos.
Sed velụti tractata notam labemque remittunt
Atramenta, fere scriptores carmine føedo
Splendida facta linunt. idem rex ille, poema
Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit,
Edicto vetuit, ne quis se praeter Apellem
Pingeret, aut alius Lyfippo duceret aera
Fertis o Alexandri vultum fimulantia, quod fi
Judicium subtile videndis artibus illud
Ad libros et ad haec Musarum dona vocares;
· Boeotum in crasso jurares aere natum.

And if we will recite nine hours in ten,
You lose your patience, just like other men.
Then too we hurt ourselves, when to defend
A · single verse, we quarrel with a friend ;.' 365
Repeat' unask'd ; lament, the "Wit's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out ev'ry line.
But most, when ftraining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epistles to the King ;
And * from the moment we oblige the town,
Expect a place, or pension from the Crown;
Or dubb’d Historians by express command,
T'enroll your triumphs o'er the seas and land,
Be call’d to Court to plan some work divine,
As once for Louis, Boileau and Racine. 375

Yet y think, great Sir! (so many Virtues shown)
Ah think, what Poet best may make them known?
Or chuse at least some Minister of Grace,
Fit to bestow the 2 Laureat's weighty place.

a Charles, to late times to be transmitted fair, 380 Aflign’d his figure to Bernini's care; And great Nafsau to Kneller's hand decreed To fix him graceful on the bounding Steed; So well in paint and stone they judg’d of merit: But Kings in Wit may want discerning Spirit. 385 The Hero William, and the Martyr Charles, One knighted Blackmore, and one penfion'd Quarles ; Which made old Ben, and furly Dennis swear, “ No Lord's anointed, but a Russian Bear.

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