Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate,
Or feen a new-made mayor's unwieldy ftate;
Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws,
And fenates heard before they judg❜d a caufe;
How wouldst thou shake at Britain's modish tribe,
Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe?
Attentive truth and nature to decry,
And pierce each scene with philofophic eye.
To thee were folemn toys or empty fhew,
The robes of pleasure and the veils of woe:
All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain,
Whose joys are caufelefs, and whofe griefs are vain.
Such was the fcorn that fill'd the fage's mind,
Renew'd at every glance on humankind;
How juft that scorn ere yet thy voice declare,
Search every state, and canvass every prayer.
• Unnumber'd fuppliants crowd Preferment's gate, Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great; Delufive Fortune hears th' inceffant call,
They mount, they fhine, evaporate, and fall.
On every stage the foes of
Hate dogs their flight, and infult mocks their end.
Love ends with hope, the finking ftatefman's door
Pours in the morning worshipper no more;
For growing names the weekly fcribbler lies,
To growing wealth the dedicator flies,
From every room defcends the painted face,
That hung the bright Palladium of the place,
And smoak'd in kitchens, or in auctions fold,
To better features yields the frame of gold;
For now no more we trace in every line
Heroic worth, benevolence divine:
The form distorted justifies the fall,
And deteftation rids th' indignant wall.
But will not Britain hear the last appeal,
Sign her foes doom, or guard her fav'rites zeal;
Through Freedom's fons no more remonftrance rings,
Degrading nobles, and controuling kings;
Our fupple tribes reprefs their patriot throats,
And ask no queftions but the price of votes ;
With weekly libels and feptennial ale,
Their wish is full to riot and to rail.
In full-blown dignity, fee Wolfey ftand,
Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand:
To him the church, the realm, their pow'rs confign; Through him the rays of regal bounty shine,
Still to new heights his restless wifhes tow'r,
Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r ;
'Till conquest unrefifted ceas'd to please,
And rights fubmitted, left him none to feize.
At length his fov'reign frowns - the train of state
Mark the keen glance, and watch the fign to hate.
Where-e'er he turns he meets a stranger's eye,
His fuppliants fcorn him, and his followers fly;
At once is loft the pride of aweful state,
The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious board,
The liv'ried army, and the menial lord.
With age, with cares, with maladies opprefs'd,
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest.
Grief aids disease, remember'd folly ftings,
And his last fighs reproach the faith of kings.
Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine, Shall Wolfey's wealth, with Wolfey's end be thine? Or liv'ft thou now, with fafer pride content, The wifeft justice on the banks of Trent? For why did Wolfey near the steeps of fate, On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight? Why but to fink beneath Misfortune's blow, With louder ruin to the gulphs below?
What' gave great Villiers to th' affaffin's knife, And fix'd disease on Harley's clofing life?
What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde, By kings protected, and to kings ally'd?
What but their wifh indulg'd in courts to fhine,
And pow'r too great to keep, or to resign?
When first the college rolls receive his name,
enthufiaft quits his ease for fame;
Through all his veins the fever of renown
Spreads from the ftrong contagion of the gown;
O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread,
Andh Bacon's manfion trembles o'er his head.
Are these thy views? proceed, illuftrious youth,
And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth!
Yet fhould thy foul indulge the gen'rous heat,
"Till captive Science yields her laft retreat,
Should Reafon guide thee with her brightest ray,
And pour on mifty Doubt refiftless day;
Should no falfe Kindness lure to loofe delight,
Nor Praise relax, nor Difficulty fright;
Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain,
And Sloth effufe her opiate fumes in vain ;
Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart,
Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart;
h There is a tradition, that the ftudy of friar Bacon, built on an arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon fhall pass under it.
Should no Disease thy torpid veins invade,
Nor Melancholy's phantoms haunt thy shade;
Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,
Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee:
Deign on the paffing world to turn thine eyes,
And pause awhile from letters, to be wife;
There mark what ills the scholar's life affail,
Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
See nations flowly wife, and meanly just,
To buried merit raise the tardy buft.
If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,
Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end.
Nor deem, when Learning her laft prize bestows,
The glitt❜ring eminence exempt from woes;
See when the vulgar 'fcape, defpis'd or aw'd,
Rebellion's vengeful talons feize on Laud.
From meaner minds, though fmaller fines content
The plunder'd palace or fequefter'd rent;
Mark'd out by dangerous parts he meets the fhock;
And fatal Learning leads him to the block:
Around his tomb let Art and Genius weep,
But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and fleep.
The 'feftal blazes, the triumphal fhow,
The ravish'd ftandard, and the captive foe,
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