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Nor fondly deem the real fool confeft,
gay the fits in Laughter's dimpled cheek;
But you, more sage, reject th’inverted ruie, 225
Let clear-ey'd Reason at the helm preside, 235
Tho' distant times may rise in Satire's page,
250 Ere Lewdness the stain'd garb of Honour wore, Or Chaitity was carted for the whore ; Vice flutter'd, in the plumes of Freedom drest, Or public spirit was the public jest. Be ever in a just expression bold,
255 Yet ne'er degrade fair Satire to a scold : Let no unworthy mien her form debase, But let her smile and let her frown with grace; In mirth be temp’rate, temp'rate in her spleen, Nor, while she preaches modesty, obscene. 260 Deep let her wound, not rankle to a fore, Nor call his Lordship
her Grace a The Muse's charms refiftless then affail When wrapp'd in Irony's transparent veil : Her beauties half.conceal'd the more surprise, 265 And keener lustre sparkles in her eyes. Then be your line with sharp encomiums grac'd; Style Clodius Honourable, Bufa Chaste.
Dart not on Folly an indignant eye: Whoe'er discharg'd artillery on a fly?
270 Deride not Vice; absurd the thought and vain To bind the tiger in so weak a chain. Nay more; when flagrant crimes your laughter move, The knave exults: to smile is to approve.
The Muse's labour then success shall crown 275
Know next what measures to each theme belong,
Not so when Virtue, by her guards betray'd,
Yet Satire oft'allumes a gentler mien,
315 And beams on Virtue's friends a smile serene: She wounds reluctant, pours her balm with joy, Glad to commend where worth attracts her eye: But chief when virtue, learning, arts, decline, She joys to lee unconquer’d Merit shine;
320 Where, bursting glorious with departing ray, True genius gilds the close of Britain's day: With joy she fees the stream of Roman art From Murray's tongue flow purer to the heart; Sees Yorke to fame e'er yet to manhood known, 325 And just to ev'ry virtue but his own ; Hears unstain'd Cam with gen'rous pride proclaim A fage's, critic's, and a poet's name; Beholds where Widcombe's happy hills ascend, Each orphan'd art and virtue find a friend;
330 To Hagley's honour'd shade directs her view, And culls cach flower to form a wreath for you.
But tread with cautious step this dang’rous ground, Beset with faithless precipices round: Truth be your guide; disdain Ambition's call; 335 And if
fall with Truth you greatly fall. 'Tis Virtue's native lustre that must shine; The poet can but set it in his line : And who, unmov'd with laughter, can behold A fordid pebble meanly grac'd with gold ? 340 Let real merit then adorn your lays, For thame attends on prostituted praise ; And all your wit, your molt diftinguish'd art, But makes us grieve you want an honest heart.
Nor think the Muse by Satire's law confin'd; 345 She yields description of the noblest kind. Inferior art the landscape may design, And pa
the ple ev'ning in the line : Her daring thought essays a higher plan; Her hand delineates passion, pictures man. 350 And great the toil the latent foul to trace, To paint the heart, and catch internal grace; By turns bid Vice or Virtuę strike our eyes, Now bid a Wolsey or a Cromwell rise;
Now, with a touch more sacred and refin'd,
355 Call forth a Cheite,ficdj's or Lonidale's mind. Here tweet or strong may ev'ry colour How, Here let the pencil warm, the canvas glow; Of light and shade provoke the noble itrife, And wake each striking feature into life. 360
PART III. TERO' ages thus has Satire keenly ihin'd, The friend to truth, to virtue, and mankind: Yet the bright flame from virtue ne'er had sprung, Aud man was guilty ere the poet fung. This Muse in silence joy'd each better age, 365 Till glowing crimes had wak'd her into rage: Truth saw ber honest ipleen with new delight, And bade her wing her ihafts and urge their flight. First on the sons of Greece the prov'd her art, And Sparta felt the fierce lambic dart :
370 To Latium next arenging Satire flew; The farning falchion rough Lucilius drew, Wi:h dauntlets warmth in Virtue's cause engagéd, And conscious villains trembled as he rag'd.
Then sportive Horace caught the gen'rous fire, For Satire's bow relign’d the founding lyre ; Each arrow poliih'd in his hand was seen, And as it grew more polish'd grew more keen. His ait, conceal'd in study'd negligence, Politely lly, cajoll'd the fors of sense: He teen'd to sport and trifle with the dart, But while he Ipcrted drove it to the heart. In graver Itrains majeltic Persius wrote, Big with a ripe exuberance of thought; Greatly ledare, contemn’d a tyrant's reign, 385 And lah'd Corruption with a calm dildain.
More ardent eloquence and boundless rage Infilame boid juvenal's exalted page; His mighty numbers aw'd corru; ted Rome, And swept audacious Greatness to its duom: 390 The heudlong torrent, tiund'ring from on high, Rent the proud rock that lately brav'd the sky: