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But, high above, more solid learning shone, The Classics of an age that heard of none; There Caxton slept, with Wynkyn at his side, One clasp'd in wood, and one in strong cow-hide; There, sav'd by spice, like mummies, many a year, Dry bodies of divinity appear;

De Lyra there a dreadful front extends,

152

And here the groaning shelves Philemon bends.

REMARKS.

was a serving-man of Ben Jonson, who once picked up a comedy from his betters, or from some cast scenes of his masters, not entirely contemptible.

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v. 149. Caxton.] A printer in the time of Edward IV. Richard III. and Henry VII. Wynkyn de Word, his successor, in that of Henry VII. and VIII.

v. 153.] Nich. de Lyra; or Harpsfield, a very voluminous commentator, whose works, in five vast folios, were printed in 1472.

v. 154] Philemon Holland, doctor in physic. He translated so many books, that a man would think he had done nothing else; insomuch that he might be called Translator-General of his age. The books alone of his turning into English, are suf'ficient to make a country gentleman a compleat library.' Winstanley.

VARIATIONS.

p. 146.] In the first edit. it was

Well purg'd, and worthy, Wy, W―s and Bl—. And in the following altered to Wythers, Quaries, and Bloome, on which was the following note:

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It was printed in the surreptitious editions, W-ly. W who were persons eminent for good life; the one writ the Life of Christ in verse, the other some valuable pieces in the lync kind, on pious subjects. The line is here restored according to its original.

George Wythers was a great pretender to poetical zeal against the vices of the times, and abused the greatest personages in power, which brought upon him frequent correction. The Marshalsea and Newgate were no strangers to him.' Winstan ley. Quarles was a dull writer, but an honester man. Bloome's books are remarkable for their cuts.

Of these twelve volumes, twelve of amplest size, Redeem'd from tapers and defrauded pies,

156

nspir'd he seizes: these an altar raise ;
An hecatomb of pure, unsully'd lays
That altar crowns; a folio common-place
Founds the whole pile, of all his works the base: 160
Quartos, Octavos, shape the less'ning pyre,
A twisted birth-day ode completes the spire.
Then he, great tamer of all human art!
First in my care, and ever at my heart;
Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, 165
With whom my Muse began, with whom shall end,
E're since Sir Fopling's periwig was praise,

170

To the last honors of the Butt and Bays:
O thou! of bus'ness the directing soul!
To this our head like bias to the bowl,
Which, as more pond'rous, made its aim more true,
Obliquely waddling to the mark in view:
O! ever gracious to perplex'd mankind,
Still spread a healing mist before the mind;

VARIATIONS.

v. 162. A twisted, &c.] In the former edit. And last, a little Ajax tips the spire.

Var...a little Ajax.] In duodecimo, translated from Syphoces by Tibbald.

IMITATIONS,

. 166. With whom my muse began, with whom shall end.】 A te principium, tibi desinet..."

Virg. El. viii.

Ἐκ Διός αρχώμεσθα. και εἰς Δία λὴγελε Μεσαι Theoc.

Prima dicte mihi, summa dicenda Camoena.'

Hor.

And, lest we err by Wit's wild dancing light,
Secure us kindly in our native night.

175

Or, if to wit a coxcomb make pretence,
Guard the sure barrier between that and sense;
Or quite unravel all the reas'ning thread,
And hang some curious cobweb in its stead! 180
As, forc'd from wind-guns, lead itself can fly,
And pond'rous slugs cut swiftly through the sky;
As clocks to weight their nimble motion owe,
The wheels above urg'd by the load below;
Me Emptiness and Dulness could inspire,
And were my elasticity and fire.

185

Some dæmon stole my pen (forgive th' offence)
And once betray'd me into common sense:
Else all my prose and verse were much the same;
This prose on stilts, that, poetry fall'n lame. 190

VARIATIONS.

v. 177. Or, if to wit, &c.] In the former edit.
Ah! still o'er Britain stretch that peaceful wand,
Which lulls th' Helvetian and Batavian land;
Where rebel to thy throne, if Science rise,
She does but show her coward face, and dies:
There thy good Scholiasts, with unweary'd pains,
Make Horace flat, and humble Maro's strains:
Here studious I unlucky Moderns save,
Nor sleeps one error in it's father's grave,
Old puns restore, lost blunders nicely seek,
And crucify poor Shakespeare once a week.
For the supplying, in the worst of days,
Notes to dull books, and prologues to dull plays,
Not that my quill to critics was confin'd,
My verse gave ampler lessons to mankind;
So gravest precepts may successless prove,
But sad examples never fail to move,
As, forc'd' from wind-guns, &c.

Did on the stage my fops appear confin'd?
My life gave ampler lessons to mankind.
Did the dead letter unsuccessful prove?
The brisk example never fail'd to move.
Yet sure, had Heav'n decreed to save the state, 195
Heav'n had decreed these works a longer date.
Could Troy be sav'd by any single hand,
This gray-goose weapon must have made her stand.
What can I now? my Fletcher cast aside,
Take up the Bible, once my better guide?
Or tread the path by vent'rous heroes trod,
This box my thunder, this right hand my God?
Or chair'd at White's amidst the doctors sit,
Teach oaths to gamesters, and to nobles wit?
Or bidst thou rather party to embrace ?
(A friend to Party thou, and all her race;

VARIATIONS.

7. 195. Yet sure, had Heaven, &c.] In the former edit.
Had Heav'n decreed such works a longer date,
Heav'n had decreed to spare the Grub-street state.
But see great Settle to the dust descend,
And all thy cause and empire at an end t
Could Troy be sav'd,....&c.

IMITATIONS.

195.....had Heav'n decreed, &c.] 'Me si coelicolæ voluissent duccere vitam,

"Has mihi servassent sedes,..

200

205

Virg. Æn. II,

. 197, 198. Could Troy be sav'd.. This gray-goose weapon.]

...Si Pergama dextra

'Defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuissent.' Virg. Ibid. .202. This box my thunder, this right hand my God?] *Dextra mihi Deus, et telum quod missile libro,”

Virgil, of the Gods of Mezentius,

H

90

'Tis the same rope at diffèrent ends they twist;
To Dulness Ridpath is as dear as Mist).
Shall I, like Curtius, desperate in my zeal,
O'er head and ears plunge for the commonweal? 210
Or rob Rome's ancient geese of all their glories,
And cackling save the monarchy of Tories?
Hold-to the minister I more incline;

To serve his cause, O Queen! is serving thine.
And see thy very Gazetteers give o'er,

!

215 Ev'n Ralph repents, and Henley writes no more. What then remains? Ourself. Still, still remain Cibberian forehead, and Cibberian brain.

This brazen brightness, to the 'squire so dear;
This polish'd hardness, that reflects the peer: 220
This arch absurd, that wit and fool delights,
This mess, toss'd up of Hockley-hole and White's;
Where dukes and butchers join to wreathe my crown,
At once the Bear and Fiddle of the Town.

O born in sin, and forth in folly brought! 225
Works damn'd, or to be dama'd; (your father's fault.)
Go, purify'd by flames, ascend the sky,
My better and more Christian progeny !

VARIATIONS.

.213. Holdto the minister] In the former edition Yes, to my country I my pen consign,

Yes, from this moment, mighty Mist! am thine. . 225. O born in sin, &c.] In the former edition: Adieu, my Children! better thus expire

Unstall'd, unsold; thus glorious mount in fire,
Fair without spot, than greas'd by grocers' hands,
Or shipp'd with Ward to Ape-and-monkey lands

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