it's gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place;
the face of Nature we no more survey,
all glares alike, without distinction gay;
but true expression, like th' unchanging sun,
clears and improves whate'er it shines upon;
it gilds all objects, but it alters none.
Expression is the dress of thought, and still
appears more decent as more suitable.
A vile conceit in pompous words express'd,
is like a clown in regal purple dress'd:

315

320

for diff'rent styles with diff'rent subjects sort,
as several garbs with country, town, and court.
Some by old words to fame have made pretence,
ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense; 325
such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style,
amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned smile.
Unlucky, as Fungosa in the play,

these sparks with awkward vanity display
what the fine gentleman wore yesterday;
and but so mimic ancient wits at best,
as apes our grandsires in their doublets drest,
in words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;
alike fantastic, if too new or old :

be not the first by whom the new are try'd, nor yet the last to lay the old aside,

330

335

340

But most by numbers judge a poet's song; and smooth or rough, with them, is right or wrong: in the bright muse tho' thousand charms conspire her voice is all these tuneful fools admire; who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear, not mend their minds; as some to church repair, not for the doctrine, but the music there. These, equal syllables alone require, tho' oft the ear the open vowels tire;

245

while expletives their feeble aid do join,

and ten low words oft creep in one dull line: while they ring round the same unvary'd chimes, with sure returns of still expected rhymes;

where'er you find " the cooling western breeze," 350 in the next line it" whispers through the trees;" if crystal streams with pleasing murmurs creep," the reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "sleep;" then at the last and only couplet fraught with some unmeaning thing they call a thought, 355 a needless Alexandrine ends the song, [long. that, like a wounded snake, drags it's slow length aLeave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and know what's roundly smooth, or languishingly slow; and praise the easy vigour of a line,

360

where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join. True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, as those move easiest who have learn'd to dance. 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, the sound must seem an echo to the sense: soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows, and the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; but when loud surges lash the sounding shore, the hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, the line too labours, and the words move slow; 371 not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the Hear how Timotheus' vary'd lays surprise, and bid alternate passions fall and rise! while, at each change, the son of Lybian Jove now burns with glory, and then melts with love; now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow:

[main;

375

Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found, and the world's victor stood subdued by sound! 380 the power of music all our hearts allow, and what Timotheus was, is Dryden now.

385

Avoid extremes; and shun the fault of such, who still are pleas'd too little or too much: At every trifle scorn to take offence, that always shows great pride, or little sense; those heads, as stomachs, are not sure the best, which nauseate all, and nothing can digest. Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move; for fools admire, but men of sense approve: as things seem large which we through mist descry, dulness is ever apt to magnify.

Some foreign writers, some our own despise;

390

395

400

the ancients only, or the moderns prize: thus wit, like faith, by each man is apply'd to one small sect, and all are damn'd beside. Meanly they seek the blessing to confine, and force that sun but on a part to shine, which not alone the southern wit sublimes, but ripens spirits in cold northern climes; which from the first has shone on ages past, enlights the present, and shall warm the last; tho' each may feel increases and decays, and see now clearer and now darker days. Regard not then if wit be old or new, but blame the false, and value still the true. Some ne'er advance a judgment of their own, but catch the spreading notion of the town; they reason and conclude by precedent, and own stale nonsense which they ne'er invent. Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.

405

410

Of all this servile herd, the worst is he
that in proud dulness joins with quality;
a constant critic at the great man's board,
to fetch and carry nonsense for my lord,
what woful stuff this madrigal would be,
in some starv'd hackney-sonneteer, or me!
but let a lord once own the happy lines,
how the wit brightens! how the style refines!
before his sacred name flies every fault,
and each exalted stanza teems with thought!
The vulgar thus through imitation err;
as oft the learn'd by being singular;

so much they scorn the croud, that if the throng

415

420

425

by chance go right, they purposely go wrong: so Schismatics the plain believers quit, and are but damn'd for having too much wit. Some praise at morning what they blame at night, but always think the last opinion right.

A muse by these is like a mistress us'd, this hour she's idoliz'd, the next abus'd;

431

while their weak heads, like towns unfortify'd, 'twixt sense and nonsense daily change their side. Ask them the cause; they're wiser still, they say; and still to-morrow's wiser than to-day.

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow; our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so.

Once school divines this zealous isle o'erspread; 440 who knew most sentences was deepest read: faith, gospel, all seein'd made to be disputed, and none had sense enough to be confuted: Scotists and Thomists, now in peace remain, amidst their kindred cobwebs in Duck-lane. If faith itself has different dresses worn, what wonder modes in wit should take their turn?

445

oft, leaving what is natural and fit,
the current folly proves the ready wit;
and authors think their reputation safe,

450

455

which lives as long as fools are pleas'd to laugh. Some, valuing those of their own side or mind, still make themselves the measure of mankind: fondly we think we honour merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men. Parties in wit attend on those of state, and public faction doubles private hate. Pride, malice, folly, against Dryden rose, in various shapes of parsons, critics, beaux : but sense surviv'd, when merry jests were past; 460 for rising merit will buoy up at last.

Might he return, and bless once more our eyes, new Blackmores and new Milbourns must arise: nay, should great Homer lift his awful head, Zoilus again would start up from the dead. Envy will merit, as it's shade, pursue;

465

but, like a shadow, proves the substance true; for envy'd wit, like Sol eclips'd, makes known th' opposing body's grossness, not it's own. When first that sun too powerful beams displays, 470 it draws up vapours which obscure it's rays; but ev'n those clouds at last adorn it's way, reflect new glories, and augment the day.

Be thou the first, true merit to befriend; his praise is lost, who stays till all commend. Short is the date, alas, of modern rhymes, and 't is but just to let them live betimes. No longer now that golden age appears, when patriarch-wits surviv'd a thousand years; now length of fame (our second life) is lost, and bare threescore is all ev'n that can boast;

475

480