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By FAVOUR folks must make their way,
FAVOUR, which lafts, perhaps, a day,
And when you've twirl'd yourself about
To wriggle in, you're wriggled out.
'Tis from the funfhine of her eyes
Each courtly infect lives or dies;
'Tis fhe difpenfes all the graces
Of profits, penfions, honours, places;
And in her light capricious fits
Makes wits of fools, and fools of wits,
Gives vices, folly, dullness birth,
Nay ftamps the currency on worth;
'Tis fhe that lends the mufe a fpur,
And even Kiffing goes by Her.

Far in the fea a temple stands
Built by dame ERROR'S hafty hands,
Where in her dome of lucid fhells
The vifionary goddess dwells.
Here o'er her fubject fons of earth
Regardless or of place, or worth,
She rules triumphant; and supplies
The gaping world with hopes and lies.

Her throne, which weak and tott'ring feems,

Is built upon the wings of dreams;

The

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The fickle winds her altars bear
Which quiver to the shifting air;
Hither hath REASON feldom brought
The child of VIRTUE or of THOUGHT,
And JUSTICE with her equal face,
Finds this, alas! no throne of Grace.

CAPRICE, OPINION, FASHION wait,
The porters at the temple's gate,
And as the fond adorers prefs
Pronounce fantastic happiness;

While FAVOUR with a SYREN's smile,
Which might ULYSSES felf beguile,
Prefents the sparkling bright libation,
The nectar of intoxication;

And fummoning her ev'ry grace
Of winning charms, and chearful face,
Smiles away Reason from his throne,
And makes his votaries her own :
Inftant refounds the voice of fame,
Caught with the whiftlings of their name,
The fools grow frantic, in their pride
Contemning all the world befide :
Pleas'd with the gewgaw toys of pow'r,
The noify pageant of an hour,

Struts

Struts forth the ftatesman, haughty vain,
Amidft a fupple fervile train,

With fhrug, grimace, nod, wink, and stare,
So proud, he almoft treads in air;
While levee-fools, who fue for place,
Crouch for employment from his Grace,
And e'en good Bishops, taught to trim,
Forfake their GOD to bow to him.

The Poet in that happy hour, Imagination in his pow'r,

Walks all abroad, and unconfin'd,

Enjoys the liberty of mind:

Dupe to the smoke of flimfy praise,
He vomits forth fonorous lays;
And, in his fine poetic rage,

Planning, poor foul, a deathlefs page,

Indulges pride's fantastic whim,

And all the WORLD muft wake to HIM,

A while from fear, from envy free,

He fleeps on a pacific fea;

Lethargic ERROR for a while

Deceives him with her fpecious fmile,

And flatt'ring dreams delusive shed
Gay gilded visions round his head.

When,

Such as the northern fkies deform,
When fell DESTRUCTION guides the ftorm
Transport him to fome dreary ifle
Where FAVOUR never deign'd to smile.
Where waking, helpless, all alone,
'Midft craggy steeps and rocks unknown;
Sad fcenes of woe his pride confound,
And DESOLATION ftalks around.
Where the dull months no pleasures bring,
And years roll round without a spring;
Where He all hopeless, loft, undone,
Sees chearless days that know no fun
Where jibing SCORN her throne maintains
Midst mildews, blights, and blasts, and ra

Let others, with fubmiffive knee,
Capricious goddess! bow to Thee;
Let them with fixt inceffant aim
Court fickle favour, faithless fame;
Let vanity's faftidious flave

Lose the kind moments nature gave,
In invocations to the fhrine

Of Phoebus and the fabled Nine,

1;

An author, to his latest days,
From hunger, or from thirft of praise,
Let him thro' every fubject roam
To bring the useful morfel home;
Write upon LIBERTY oppreft,
On happiness, when most distrest,
Turn bookfeller's obfequious tool,
A monkey's cat, a mere fool's fool
Let him, unhallow'd wretch! profane
The mufe's dignity for gain,

;

Yield to the dunce his fenfe contemns,
Cringe to the knave his heart condemns,
And, at a blockhead's bidding, force
Reluctant genius from his course;

Write ode, epistle, essay, libel,

Make notes, or fteal them, for the bible;

Or let him, more judicial, fit

The dull Lord Chief, on culprit wit,
With rancor read, with paffion blame,
Talk high, yet fear to put his name,
And from the dark, but ufeful fhade,
(Fit place for murd'rous ambuscade,)
Weak monthly fhafts at merit hurl,
The GILDON of fome modern CURL.

For

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