Nor vainly buys what Gildon fells, Poetic buckets for dry wells. School-helps I want, to climb on high, Where all the ancient treasures lie, And there unfeen commit a theft On wealth in Greek exchequers left. Then where? from whom? what can I steal, Who only with the moderns deal? Whose stamp of genius marks their ware, First know, my friend, I do not mean Nor to prescribe when nerves convulse; The The day-mare Spleen, by whofe falfe pleas Men prove mere fuicides in ease; And how I do myself demean In ftormy world to live ferene. When by its magic lantern Spleen With frightful figures fpreads life's scene, And threat'ning profpects urg'd my fears, A ftranger to the luck of heirs ; Reafon, fome quiet to restore, Shew'd part was substance, shadow more; And doctors fecretly adore; To thee I fly, by thee dilute Through veins my blood doth quicker shoot, And by swift current throws off clean Prolific particles of Spleen. I never I never fick by drinking grow, To brace the nerves, and ftir the blood Atchiev'd by leaping hedge and ditch. And prove herself of Titan's race, Shed light and fragrance as fhe flies. And in pursuit o'er tainted ground From lungs robuft field-notes refound. Then, as St. George the dragon flew, Spleen pierc'd, trod down, and dying view; While all their spirits are on wing, Fling but a stone, the giant dies Laugh and be well. Monkeys have been And kitten, if the humour hit, t Has harlequin'd away the fit. Since mirth is good in this behalf, Witlings, brifk fools, curs'd with half fenfe, Who buz in rhyme, and, like blind flies, Poor authors worshipping a calf, Deep tragedies that make us laugh, Green i Green-apron'd Pythoniffa's rage, The prior of Newgate's dying fpeech, Difdainful prudes, who ceaseless ply A coquet's April-weather face, A Queenb'rough mayor behind his mace, And fops in military show, Are fov'reign for the cafe in view. If Spleen-fogs rife at close of day, Life's moving pictures, well-wrought plays, To others' griefs attention raise : We borrow joy by pitying woe; } There |