Affect ill-manner'd pedantry,

Rudenefs, ill-nature, incivility,

And, fick with dregs of knowledge grown,
Which greedily they fwallow down,
Still caft it up, and nauseate company.

IV.

Curft be the wretch! nay doubly curst!
(If it may lawful be

To curfe our greatest enemy)

Who learnt himself that heresy first

(Which fince has feiz'd on all the rest)

That knowledge forfeits all humanity;

Taught us, like Spaniards, to be proud and poor,
And fling our fcraps before our door!

Thrice happy you have 'fcap'd this general peft;
Those mighty epithets, learn'd, good, and great,
Which we ne'er join'd before, but in romances meet,
We find in you at last united grown.

You cannot be compar'd to one :

I muft, like him that painted Venus' face,
Borrow from every one a grace;

Unless I

Virgil and Epicurus will not do,
Their courting a retreat like you,
put
in Cæfar's learning too:
Your happy frame at once controls
This great triumvirate of fouls.

V.

Let not old Rome boast Fabius' fate;
He fav'd his country by delays,

But you by peace.
You bought it at a cheaper rate;

B 2

Nor

Nor has it left the ufual bloody fcar,

To fhew it coft its price in war;

War! that mad game the world fo loves to play,
And for it does fo dearly pay ;

For, though with lofs or victory a while

Fortune the gamefters does beguile,

Yet at the last the box fweeps all away.

VI.

Only the laurel got by peace

No thunder e'er can blast:
Th' artillery of the fkies

Shoots to the earth, and dies;

Nor ever green and flourishing 'twill last,

Nor dipt in blood, nor widows' tears, nor orphans' cries. About the head crown'd with these bays,

Like lambent fire the lightning plays;

Nor, its triumphal cavalcade to grace,

Makes up its folemn train with death

;

It melts the fword of war, yet keeps it in the sheath.

VII.

The wily fhifts of ftate, thofe jugglers' tricks,

Which we call deep defigns and politicks

(As in a theatre the ignorant fry,

Because the cords efcape their eye,

Wonder to fee the motions fly);
Methinks, when you expose the scene,
Down the ill-organ'd engines fall;

Off fly the vizards, and discover all :

How plain I fee through the deceit !
How fhallow, and how grofs, the cheat!

Look,

Look where the pully 's tied above!

Great God! (faid I) what have I feen!

On what poor engines move

The thoughts of monarchs, and designs of states!
What petty motives rule their fates!

How the mouse makes the mighty mountain shake!
The mighty mountain labours with its birth,
Away the frighten'd peasants fly,

Scar'd at th' unheard-of prodigy,
Expect fome great gigantic fon of earth;

Lo! it appears!

See how they tremble! how they quake!

Out ftarts the little beaft, and mocks their idle fears.

VIII.

Then tell, dear favourite Mufe!

What ferpent's that which still reforts,

Still lurks in palaces and courts?

Take thy unwonted flight,

And on the terrace light.

See where the lies!

See how the rears her head,

And rolls about her dreadful eyes,

To drive all virtue out, or look it dead!
'Twas fure this bafilifk fent Temple thence,
And though as fome ('tis faid) for their defence
Have worn a casement o'er their skin,

Made

So he wore his within,

up of virtue and tranfparent innocence; And though he oft' renew'd the fight, And almost got priority of fight,

He ne'er could overcome her quite

(In pieces cut, the viper ftill did re-unite),

Till, at laft, tir'd with lofs of time and cafe, Refolv'd to give himfelf, as well as country, peace.

IX.

Sing, belov'd Mufe! the pleafures of retreat,
And in fome untouch'd virgin ftrain

Shew the delights thy fifter Nature yields;
Sing of thy vales, fing of thy woods, fing of thy fields
Go publish o'er the plain

How mighty a profelyte you gain !`
How noble a reprisal on the great !

How is the Mufe luxuriant grown!
Whene'er fhe takes this flight,
She foars clear out of fight.
These are the paradises of her own :
(The Pegafus, like an unruly horfe,
Though ne'er fo gently led

To the lov'd pasture where he us'd to feed,.
Runs violently o'er his ufual courfe.)
Wake from thy wanton dreams,
Come from thy dear-lov'd ftreams,
The crooked paths of wandering Thames !
Fain the fair nymph would stay,

Oft' fhe looks back in vain,

Oft' 'gainst her fountain does complain,

And foftly steals in many windings down,
As loth to fee the hated court and town,

And murmurs as the glides away.

X.

In this new happy scene

Are nobler fubjects for your learned pen;

Here we expect from you

More than your predeceffor Adam knew;
Whatever moves our wonder, or our fport,
Whatever ferves for innocent emblems of the court;
How that which we a kernel fee

(Whofe well-compacted forms escape the light,
Unpierc'd by the blunt rays of fight)

Shall ere long grow into a tree;

Whence takes it its increafe, and whence its birth,
Or from the fun, or from the air, or from the earth,
Where all the fruitful atoms lie;

How fome go downward to the root,
Some more ambitiously upwards fly,

And form the leaves, the branches, and the fruit.
You ftrove to cultivate a barren court in vain,
Your garden 's better worth your noble pain,
Here mankind fell, and hence must rise again.
XI.

Shall I believe a spirit fo divine

Was caft in the fame mold with mine?

Why then does Nature fo unjustly share
Among her elder fons the whole eftate,

And all her jewels and her plate?

Poor we! cadets of Heaven, not worth her care,

Take up at beft with lumber and the leavings of a fare:

Some the binds 'prentice to the fpade,

Some to the drudgery of a trade,