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Who pants for glory finds but fhort repose,
A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.
z Farewell the stage! if juft as thrives the play,
The filly bard grows fat, or falls away.

a There still remains, to mortify a Wit,
The many-headed Monster of the Pit;
A fenfelefs, worthlefs, and unhonour'd crowd:
Who, b to disturb their betters mighty proud,
Clattering their flicks before ten lines are spoke.
Call for the Farce, the Bear, or the Black-joke.
What dear delight to Britons Farce affords!
Ever the Tafte of Mobs, but now d of Lords;
(Tafte, that eternal wanderer, which flies
From heads to ears, and now from ears to eyes)
The Play ftands still; damn action and difcourfe,
Back fly the scenes, and enter foot, and horse;







Sic leve, fic parvum eft, animum quod laudis avarum
Subruit, ac reficit: z valeat res ludicra, fi me
Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum.

Saepe etiam audacem fugat hoc terretque poetam
Quod numero plures, virtute et honore minores
Indocti, ftolidique, et b depugnare parati
Si difcordet eques, media inter carmina pofcunt
Aut urfum aut pugiles: his nam plebecula gaudet.
Verum equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas
Omnis, ad incertos oculos, et gaudia vana.
Quatuor aut plures aulaea premuntur in horas;
Dum fugiunte equitum turmae, peditumque catervae:
Mox trahitur manibus regum fortuna retortis ;


Pageants on pageants, in long order drawn,
Peers, Heralds, Bishops, Ermin, Gold and Lawn;
The Champion too! and, to complete the jest,
Old Edward's Armour beams on Cibber's breaft.
With f laughter fure Democritus had dy'd,
Had he beheld an Audience gape fo wide.
Let Bear or Elephant be e'er fo white,
The people, fure, the people are the fight!
Ah lucklefsh Poet! ftretch thy lungs and roar,
That Bear or Elephant fhall heed thee more;
While all its i throats the gallery extends,
And all the Thunder of the Pit afcends!
Loud as the Wolves, on k Orca's stormy steep,
Howl to the roarings of the Northern deep.
Such is the fhout, the long-applauding note,
At Quin's high plume, or Oldfield's 1 petticoat;





Effeda feftinant, pilenta, petorrita, naves;
Captivum portatur ebur, captiva Corinthus.
f Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus; feu
Diverfum confufa genus panthera camelo,
Sive & elephas albus vulgi converteret ora.
Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipfis,
Ut fibi praebentem mimo spectacula plura :
Scriptores autem h narrare putaret afello
Fabellam furdo. nam quae i pervincere voces
Evaluere fonum, referunt quem noftra theatra?
k Garganum mugire putes nemus, aut mare Tufcum.
Tanto cum ftrepitu ludi fpectantur, et artes,
1 Divitiaeque peregrinae: quibus m oblitus actor

Or when from Court a birth-day fuit bestow'd,
Sinks them loft Actor in the tawdry load.
Booth enters-hark! the univerfal peal!
"But has he spoken?" Not a fyllable.
What shook the stage, and made the people stare?
n Cato's long wig, flower'd gown, and lacquer'd chair.
Yet, left you think I railly more than teach,
Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,

Let me for once presume t' instruct the times,
To know the Poet from the man of rhymes:
'Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Paffion that he feigns;
Inrage, compofe, with more than magic Art,
With pity, and with terror, tear my heart;
And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
P But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deferves the favour of the Great:


Cum ftetit in fcena, concurrit dextera laevae. Dixit adhuc aliquid? nil fane. Quid placet ergo? n Lana Tarentino violas imitata veneno.




Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipfe recufem,
Cum recte tractent alii, laudare maligne;

Ille per extentum funem mihi poffe videtur
Ire poeta; 0
meum qui pectus inaniter angit,
Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

Ut magnus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.
P Verum age, et his, qui fe lectori credere malunt,
Quam fpectatoris faftidia ferre fuperbi,

Think of thofe Authors, Sir, who would rely
More on a Reader's fenfe, than Gazer's eye.
Or who fhall wander where the Mufes fing?
Who climb their mountain, or who tafte their spring?
How shall we fill 9 a Library with Wit,
When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet?


My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought, I guefs; and, with their leave, will tell the fault: We Poets are (upon a Poet's word)

Of all mankind, the creatures most abfurd:
The feafon, when to come, and when to go,
To fing, or cease to fing, we never know;
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 fingle verfe, we quarrel with a friend;
Repeat " unask'd; w lament, the Wit's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out every line;
But moft, when, straining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epiftles to the King;






r Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetae, (Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum s Solicito damus, aut feffo: cum laedimur, unum Si quis amicorum eft aufus reprendere versum : Cum loca jam " recitata revolvimus irrevocati: Cum lamentamur non apparere labores




Curam impende brevem: fi q munus Apolline dignum
Vis complere libris; et vatibus addere calcar,
Ut ftudio majore petant Helicona virentem.

And x from the moment we oblige the town,
Expect a place, or Penfion from the Crown;
Or, dubb'd Hiftorians by express command,
T'enroll your triumphs o'er the seas and land,
Be call'd to Court to plan fome work divine,
As once for LOUIS, Boileau and Racine.



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

a Charles, to late times to be tranfmitted fair, 380 Affign'd his figure to Bernini's care;

Noftros, et tenui deducta poemata filo;
Cum x fperamus eo rem venturam, ut, fimul atque
Carmina refcieris nos fingere, commodus ultro
Arceffas, et egere vetes, et fcribere cogas.
Sed tamen eft y operae pretium cognofcere, quales
Aedituos habeat belli fpectata domique
Virtus, indigno non committenda poetae.

a Gratus Alexandro regi Magno fuit ille
Choerilus, incultis qui verfibus et male natis
Rettulit acceptos, regale numifma, Philippos.
Sed veluti tractata notam labemque remittunt
Atramenta, fere fcriptores carmine foedo
Splendida fa&ta linunt. idem rex ille, poema
Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit,
Edicto vetuit, ne quis fe praeter Apellem
Pingeret, aut alius Lyfippo duceret aera


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