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Affect ill-manner'd pedantry, Rudeness, ill-nature, incivility,

And, fick with dregs of knowledge grown,

Which greedily they swallow down,
Still cast it

and nauseate


Curst be the wretch! nay doubly curst!

(If it may lawful be
To curse our greatest enemy)
Who learnt himself that heresy first

(Which since has seiz'd on all the rest)
That knowledge forfeits all humanity ;
Taught us, like Spaniards, to be proud and poor,

And fing our scraps before our door!
Thrice happy you have 'scap'd this general pest;
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 must, like him that painted Venus' face,

Borrow from every one a grace ;
Virgil and Epicurus will not do,

Their courting a retreat like you,
Unless I put in Cæsar's learning too:

Your happy frame at once controls
great triumvirate of fouls.

Let not old Rome boast Fabius' fate;

He sav'd his country by delays,

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


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Nor has it left the usual bloody scar,

To shew it cost its price in war;
War! that mad game the world so loves to play,

And for it does so dearly pay ;
For, though with loss or victory a while

Fortune the gamesters does beguile,
Yet at the last the box sweeps all away.

Only the laurel got by peace

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

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 sword of war, yet keeps it in the sheath.

The wily shifts of ftate, those jugglers' tricks,
Which we call deep designs and politicks
(As in a theatre the ignorant fry,

Because the cords escape their eye,

Wonder to see the motions Aly);
Methinks, when you expose the scene,

Down the ill-organ’d engines fall;
Of fly the vizards, and discover all :

How plain I see through the deceit !
How shallow, and how gross, the cheat !



Look where the pully 's tied above !
Great God! (said I) what have I seen!

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 some great gigantic son of earth;

Lo! it appears !
See how they tremble ! how they quake !
Out starts the little beast, and mocks their idle fears.

Then tell, dear favourite Muse !
What serpent 's that which still resorts,
Still lurks in palaces and courts ?

Take thy unwonted flight,
And on the terrace light.

See where the lies !
See how she rears her head,

And rolls about her dreadful eyes,
To drive all virtue out, or look it dead !
'Twas sure this basilisk sent Temple thence,
And though as fome ('tis faid) for their defence

Have worn a casement o'er their skin,

So he wore his within, Made


of virtue and transparent innocence ;

And though he oft' renew'd the fight, And almost got priority of sight,

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He ne'er could overcome her quite (In pieces cut, the viper still did re-unite),

Till, at last, tir'd with loss of time and ease, Resolv'd to give himfelf, as well as country, peace.

Sing, belov'd Muse! the pleasures of retreat,

And in fome untouch'd virgin strain
Shew the delights thy sister Nature yields ;
Sing of thy vales, fing of thy woods, fing of thy fields,

Go publish o'er the plain
How mighty a proselyte you gain !
How noble a reprisal on the great!

How is the Muse luxuriant grown !

Whene'er she takes this fight,

She foars clear out of sight. These are the paradises of her own :

(The Pegasus, like an unruly horse,

Though ne’er so gently led
To the lov'd pasture where he us’d to feed,
Runs violently o'er his usual course.)

Wake from thy wanton dreams,

Come from thy dear-lov'd streams,
The crooked paths of wandering Thames !

Fain the fair nymph would stay,
Oft' she looks back in vain,
Oft’’gainst her fountain does complain,

And softly steals in many windings down,

As loth to see the hated court and town, And murmurs as the glides away,

learned pen;

In this new happy scene
Are nobler subjects for your

Here we expect from you
More than your predecessor Adam knew;
Whatever moves our wonder, or our sport,
Whatever serves for innocent emblems of the court;

How that which we a kernel see (Whose well-compacted forms escape the light, Unpierc'd by the blunt rays of sight)

Shall ere long grow into a tree; Whence takes it its increase, and whence its birth, Or from the sun, or from the air, or from the earth,

Where all the fruitful atoms lie;

How some go downward to the root,

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

Shall I believe a spirit so divine

Was cast in the same mold with mine? Why then does Nature so unjustly share Among her elder sons the whole estate,

And all her jewels and her plate ?
Poor we! caders of Heaven, not worth her care,
Take up at best with lumber and the leavings of a fare:

Some she binds ’prentice to the spade,
Some to the drudgery of a trade,

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