For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, 75 80 "Yet surely, surely these were famous men! "What boy but hears the sayings of old Ben.? "In all debates where critics bear a part, "Not one but nods, and talks of Jonson's art, "Of Shakespeare's nature and of Cowley's wit; "How Beaumont's judgment check'd what Fletcher "How Shadwell hasty, Wycherly was slow; [writ; "But for the passion, Southern, sure, and Rowe! 86 "These, only these, support the crowded stage, "From eldest Heywood down to Cibber's age." All this may be; the people's voice is odd; It is, and it is not, the voice of God. To Gammer Gurton if it gives the bays, And yet deny the Careless Husband praise, Or say our fathers never broke a rule, Why then, I say the public is a fool. 90 But let them own that greater faults than we 95 Spenser himself affects the obsolete, And Sydney's verse halts ill on Roman feet; Milton's strong pinion now not heav'n can bound, Now, serpent-like, in prose he sweeps the ground; In quibble angel and archangel join, And God the Father turns a school-divine. Not that I'd lop the beauties from his book, 101 Like slashing Bentley with his desp❜rate hook; The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease; In the dry desert of a thousand lines, 110 Or lengthen'd thought, that gleams thro' many a page, Has sanctify'd whole poems for an age. I lose my patience, and I own it too, When works are censur'd not as bad, but new ; 115 120 Or well-mouth'd Booth with emphasis proclaims, 125 130 135 What then was new, what had been ancient now? Or what remain'd so worthy to be read By learned critics of the mighty dead? In days of ease, when now the weary sword Was sheath'd, and Luxury with Charles restor❜d, 140 In ev'ry taste of foreign courts improv❜d, "All by the king's example liv'd and lov'd.” Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t' excel, And yielding metal flow'd to human form; 145 Lely on animated canvas stole Time was a sober Englishman would knock And send his wife to church, his son to school. 150 155 160 To worship like his fathers was his care; 165 To teach their frugal virtues to his heir; To prove that luxury could never hold, Now times are chang'd, and one poetic itch 170 Sons, sires, and grandsires, all will wear the bays; Our wives read Milton, and our daughters Ipays; To theatres and to rehearsals throng, And all our grace at table is a song. I, who so oft' renounce the Muses lie, And promise our best friends to rhyme no more; And call for pen and ink to show our wit. 175 180 He serv'd a 'prenticeship who sets up shop; Ward try'd on puppies and the poor his drop; Ev'n Radcliff's doctors travel first to France, Nor dare to practice till they've learn❜d to dance. Who builds a bridge that never drove a pile? [Should Ripley venture, all the world should smile:] But those who cannot write, and those who can, 185 All rhyme, and scrawl, and scribble, to a man. And rarely av'rice taints the tuneful mind. He ne'er rebels, or plots, like other men : And then-a perfect hermit in his diet, 195 200 |