Nature's whole ftrength united! endless fame,
And univerfal fhouts attend their name!
Read Homer once, and you can read no more
For all books elfe appear fo mean, fo poor,
Verfe will feem profe; but ftill perfift to read,
And Homer will be all the books you need.
Had Boffu never writ, the world had still,
Like Indians, view'd this wond'rous piece of skill;
As fomething of divine, the work admir'd;
Not hop'd to be inftructed, but infpir'd:
But he, difclofing facred myfteries,
Has fhewn where all the mighty magic lies;
Defcrib'd the feeds, and in what order fown,
That have to fuch a vast proportion grown.
Sure, from fome angel he the fecret knew,
Who thro' this labyrinth has lent the clue!
But what, alas! avails it poor mankind,
To fee this promis'd land, yet ftay behind?
The way is fhewn, but who has ftrength to go?
Who can all fciences profoundly know?
Whofe fancy flies beyond weak reafon's fight,.
And yet has judgment to direct it right?
Whofe jufl difcernment, Virgil-like, is fuch,
Never to fay too little, or too much?
Let fuch a man begin without delay;
But he must do beyond what I can fay!
Muft above Taffo's lofty flights prevail,
Succeed where Spencer, and ev'n Milton fail.
This is thought one of Dr. Swift's correctest pieces; its chief merit, indeed, is the elegant eafe with which a story, but ill conceived in itself, is told.
HE fhepherds and the nymphs were seen.
Pleading before the Cyprian queen.
The council for the fair began,
Accufing the falfe creature Man.
The brief with weighty crimes was charg'd,
On which the pleader much enlarg'd;
That Cupid now has loft his art,
Or blunts the point of ev'ry dart ;
His altar now no longer fmokes,
His mother's aid no youth invokes :
This tempts free-thinkers to refine,
And bring in doubt their pow'rs divine;
Now love is dwindled to intrigue,
And marriage grown a money-league.
Which crimes aforefaid (with her leave)
Were (as he humbly did conceive)
Againft our fovereign lady's peace,
Against the ftatute in that cafe,
Against her dignity and crown:
Then pray'd an answer, and fat down.
The nymphs with fcorn beheld their foes,
When the defendant's council rofe,
And, what no lawyer ever lack'd,
With impudence own'd all the fact;
But, what the gentlest heart would vex,
Laid all the fault on t'other fex.
That modern love is no fuch thing,.
As what thofe ancient poets fing;
A fire celeftial, chafte, refin'd,
Conceiv'd and kindled in the mind,
Which, having found an equal flame,
Unites, and both become the fame,
In diff'rent breafts together burn,
Together both to ashes turn:
But women now feel no fuch fire,
And only know the gro's defire.
Their paffions move in lower fpheres,
Where-e'er caprice or fully fteers.
A dog, a parrot, or an ape,
Or, fome worse, brute in human shape,
Engrofs the fancies of the fair,
The few foft moments they can spare
From vifits to receive and pay,
From fcandal, politics, and play,
From fans, and flounces, and brocades,
From equipage and park-parades,
From all the thoufand female toys,
From ev'ry trifle that employs
The out or infide of their heads
Between their toylets and their beds.
In a dull fiream, which moving flow, You hardly fee the current flow,
If a small breeze obftructs the course,
It whirls about for want of force,
And in its narrow circle gathers
Nothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers
The current of a female mind
Stops thus, and turns with ev'ry wind;
Thus whirling round, together draws
Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and ftraws.-
Hence we conclude, no women's hearts
Are won by virtue, wit, and parts;
Nor are the men of fenfe to blame,
For breasts incapable of flame:
The fault must on the nymphs be plac'd,
Grown fo corrupted in their tafte.
The pleader, having spoke his best,,
Had witnefs ready to attest,
Who fairly could on oath depose,
When questions on the fact arofe,
That ev'ry article was true;
Nor further those deponents knew
Therefore he humbly would infift,
The bill might be. with cofts difmift.
The cause appear'd of fo much weight,
That Venus, from her judgment-feat,
Defir'd them not to talk so loud,
Elfe fhe muft interpofe a cloud:
For, if the eav'nly folk should know
These pleadings in the court below,
That mortals here difdain to love,
She ne'er could fhew her face above; :
For Gods, their betters, are too wife
To value that which men defpife.
And then, faid fhe, my fon and I
Muft ftrole in air 'twixt earth and sky;
Or elfe, shut out from heav'n and earth,
Fly to the fea, my place of birth;
There live with daggled mermaids pent,
And keep on fish perpetual lent.
But, fine the cafe appear'd fo nice,
She thought it beft to take advice.
The Mufes, by their king's permiffion,
Though foes to love, attend the feffion,
And on the right hand took their places
In order; on the left, the Graces:
To whom the might her doubts propofe
On all emergencies that rofe.
The Mufes oft were feen to frown;
The Graces, half-afham'd, look'd down;
And 'twas obferv'd, there were but few
Of either fex among the crew,
Whom the or her affeffors knew.
The goddess foon began to fee,
Things were not ripe for a decree,
And faid fhe muft confult her books,
The Lovers' Fletas, Bractons, Cooks.
First to a dapper clerk fhe beckon'd
To turn to Ovid, bock the fecond;
She then referr'd them to a place
In Virgil (vide Dido's cafe);
As for Tibullus's reports,
"hey never pafs'd for law in courts:
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