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When noble and ignoble herd,
Are govern'd by a single word;
Though, like the royal Germandames,
It bears an hundred Chriftian names;
As Genius, Fancy, Judgment, Gout,
Whim, Caprice, Je-ne-fcai-quoi, Virtu
Which appellations all defcribe
TASTE, and the modern tafteful tribe.

Now bricklay'rs, carpenters, and joiners,
With Chinese artists, and defigners,
Produce their schemes of alteration,
To work this wond'rous reformation.
The useful dome, which fecret stood,
Embofom'd in the yew-tree's wood,
The trav'ler with amazement fees
A temple, Gothic, or Chinese,

With many a bell, and tawdry rag on,
And crefted with a sprawling dragon;
A wooden arch is bent aftride
A ditch of water, four foot wide,
With angles, curves, and zigzag lines,
From Halfpenny's exact defigns.
In front, a level lawn is feen,
Without a fhrub upon the green,
Where Tafte would want its first great law,
But for the skulking, fly ha-ha,
By whofe miraculous affistance,
You gain a profpect two fields diftance.
And now from Hyde-Park Corner come
The Gods of Athens, and of Rome.
Here fquabby Cupids take their places,
With Venus, and the clumfy Graces:
Apollo there, with aim fo clever,
Stretches his leaden bow for ever;
And there without the pow'r to fly,
Stands fix'd a tip-toe Mercury.

The villa thus completely grac'd,
All own that Thrifty has a Tafte;

And Madam's female friends, and coufins,

With common-council-men, by dozens,
Flock every Sunday to the Seat,
To ftare about them and to eat.

But let the century be past,

And we have tafte and wit at left;
For at that period Moderns too
Juft turn the corner of Virtù.
But merit now has little claim
To any meed of prefent fame,
For tis not worth that gets you friends,
'Tis excellence that moft offends.
If, Proteus-like, a GARRICK's art,
Shews taste and skill in every part;
If, ever juft to nature's plan,
He is in all the very man,

E'en here fhall Envy take her aim.
write, and mo blame.

The JEALOUS WIFE, tho' chastly writ,
With no parade of frippery wit,
Shall fet a fcribbling, all at once,
Both giant wit, and pigmy dunce;
While Critical Reviewers write,
Who fhew their teeth before they bite,
And facrifice each reputation,
From wanton false imagination.
Thefe obfervations, rather ftale,
May borrow fpirit from a tale.

GENIUS, a bustling lad of parts
Who all things did by fits and starts,
Nothing above him or below him,
Who'd make a riot or a poem,
From excentricity of thought,
Not always do the thing he ought;
But was it once his own election,
Would bring all matters to perfection;
Would act, defign, engrave, write, paint,
But neither from the last constraint,
Who hated all pedantic schools,
And fcorn'd the glofs of knowing fools,
That hold perfection all in all,

Yet treat it as mechanical.

And give the fame sufficient rule

To make a poem, as a stool

From the firft fpring-time of his youth,

Was downright worshipper of truth;
And with a free and liberal fpirit,

His courtship paid to lady MERIT.

ENVY, afquint-ey'd, mere old maid,

Well known among the fcribbling trade; A hag, fo very, very thin,

GENIUS, ENVY, AND TIME. Her bones peep'd through her bladder-skin;

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Who could not for her foul abide

That folks fhou'd praife, where she must chide, Follow'd the youth where'er he went,

To mar each good and brave intent;

Would lies, and plots, and mifchief hatch,

To ruin HIM and spoil the match.
Honour the held at bold defiance,

Talk'd much of Faction, Gang, Alliance,
As if the real fons of taste

Had clubb'd to lay a DESART waste.

In fhort, wherever GENIUS came,
You'd find this Antiquated Dame;
Whate'er he did, where'er he went,
She follow'd only to torment;
Call'd MERIT by a thousand names,
Which decency or truth difclaims,
While all her business, toil, and care,
Was to depreciate, lye, compare,
To pull the Modest Maiden down,
And blaft her fame to all the town.

The youth, inflam'd with confcious pride,
To Prince PosTERITY apply'd,
Who gave his answer thus in rhyme,
By his chief minister Old TIME.

"Repine not at what pedants fay,
"We'll bring thee forward on the way;
"If wither'd ENVY itrive to hurt

With lies, with impudence and dirt, "You only pay a common tax

"Which fool, and knave, and dunce exacts. "Be this thy comfort, this thy joy, "Thy ffrength is in its prime, my boy, "And every year the vigour grows, "Impairs the credit of my foes. "ENVY fhall fink, and be no more

Than what her NAIADS were before; *Mere excremental maggots, bred, "In poet's topfy-turvey head, "Born like a momentary fly,

To flutter, bazz about, and die. "Yet, GENIUS, mark what i presage, "Who look through every diftant age:

MERIT fhall bless thee with her charms, "FAME lift thy off pring in her arms, And ftamp eternity of grace "On all thy numerous various race.

ROUBILLIAC, WILTON, names as high "As Phidias of antiquity,

"Shall ftrength, expreffion, manner give; "And make e'en marble breathe and live; "While SIGISMUNDA's deep diftrefs, "Which looks the foul of wretchednefs, "When I; with flow and foft'ning pen, Have gone o'er all the tints again, Shall urge a bold and proper claim "To level half the antient fame; "While future ages yet unknown

With critic air fhall proudly own "Thy HOGARTH first of every clime "For humour keen, or ftrong fublime, "And hail him from his, fire and spirit, The child of GENIUS and of MERIT."

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Sure of fuccefs whene'er he tries,
Should he forego the means to rife?

Suppofe your watch a Graham make,`
Gold, if you will, for value's fake;
Its fprings within in order due,
No watch, when going, goes fo true;
If ne'er wound up with proper care,
What fervice is it in the wear?

Some genial fpark of Phœbus' rays,
Perhaps within your bofom plays:
O how the purer rays afpire,
If application fans the fire!
Without it genius vainly tries,
Howe'er fometimes it seem to rife:
Nay application will prevail,
When braggart part and genius fail :
And now to lay my proof before ye,
I here prefent you with a story.

In days of yore, when time was young,
When birds convers'd as well as fung,
When ufe of fpeech was not confin'd,
Merely to brutes of human kind,
A forward Hare, of fwiftnefs vain,
The Genius of the neighb'ring plain,
Wou'd oft deride the drudging croud:
For Geniuses are ever proud.

He'd boaft, his flight 'twere vain to follow,
For dog and horfe he'd beat them hollows
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outftrip his brethren half a length.

A Tortoife heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation.
Oh Pufs, it bodes thee dire difgrace,
When I defy thee to the race.
Come, 'tis a match, nay, no denial,
I lay my fhell upon the trial.

'Twas done and gone, all fair, a bet; Judges prepar'd, and diftance fet.

The fcamp'ring Hare outftrip the wine,
The creeping Tortoife lagg'd behind,
And scarce had pafs'd a single pole,
When Pufs had almost reach'd the goal:
Friend Tortoife, quoth the jeering Hares
Your burthen's more than you can bear,
To help your fpeed, it were all well
That I fhould ease you of your shell :
Jog on a little fafter pr'ythee,
I'll take a nap, and then be with thee.
So faid, fo done, and fafely fure,
For fay, what conqueft more fecure?
Whene'er he wak'd (that's all that's in it)
He could o'ertake him in a minute.

The tortoife heard his taunting jeer
But still refolv'd to persevere,
Still draw'd along, as who should say,
I'll win, like Fabius, by delay;
On to the goal fecurely crept,
While Pufs unknowing foundly flept.

The bets were won, the Hare awake
When thus the victor tortoife fpake.
Pufs, tho' I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always done by starts
You may deride my aukward pace,
But flow and feady wins the race:

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ORDS are, fo Wollafton defines, Of our ideas merely figns, Which have a pow'r at will to vary.

As being vague and arbitrary.

Now damn'd for inftance-all agree,
Damn'd the fuperlative degree;

Means that alone, and nothing more,
However taken heretofore;

Damn'd is a word can't ftand alone,
Which has no meaning of its own;
But fignifies or bad or good

Just as its neighbour's understood.

Examples we may find enough.

For though I grant, you've made it well,
You've boil'd it, fir, as hot as hell.

Then raifing high his cloven ftump,
The Satyr fmote him on the rump.
"Begone, thou double knave, or fool,

With the fame breath to warm and cool: "Friendship with fuch I never hold "Who're fo damn'd hot, and fo damn'd cold,

THE NIGHTINGALE, OWL, AND

CUCKOW.

FABLE.

Damn'd high, damn’d low, damn'd fine, damn'd ADDRESSED TO DAVID CARRICK, ESQU

stuff.

So fares it too with its relation.

I mean its fubftantive, damnation.
The wit with metaphors makes bold;
And tells you he's damnation cold;
Perhaps, that metaphor forgot,
The felf-fame wit's damnation hot.
And here a fable I remember
Once in the middle of December;
When every mead in fnow is loft,
And ev'ry river bound with froft,
When families get all together,
And feelingly talk o'er the weather;
When pox on the defcriptive rhyme→→→
In fhort it was the winter time,
It was a Pedlar's happy lot,
To fall into a Satyr's cot!
Shiv'ring with cold, and almoft froze,
With pearly drop upon his nofe,
His fingers' ends all pinch'd to death,
He blew upon them with his breath.
"Friend, quoth the Satyr, what intends
"That blowing on thy fingers' ends?
"It is to warm them thus I blow,
"For they are froze as cold as fnow.
And fo inclement has it been
"I'm like a cake of ice within."
Come, quoth the Satyr, comfort, man!
I'll cheer thy infide, if I can;
You're welcome in my homely cottage
To a warm fire, and mefs of pottage.
This faid, the Satyr, nothing loth,
A bowl prepar'd of fav'ry broth;
Which with delight the Pedlar view'd,
As fmoaking on the board it ftood.
But, though the very steam arose
With grateful ardour to his nofe,
One fingle fip he ventur'd not,
The gruel was fo wond'rous hot.
What can be done? with gentle puff
He blows it, 'till it's cool enough.

Why how now, Pedlar, what's the matter
Still at thy blowing! quoth the Satyr.
I blow to cool it, cries the Clown,
That I may get the liquor down

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And with feverity of fenfe,
Drive all imagination thence,
Say that in truth lies all fublime,
Whether you write in profe or rhyme.
And yet the truth may lofe its grace,
If blurted to a perfon's face;
Efpecially if what you speak
Shou'd crimson o'er the glowing cheek?
For when you throw that slaver o'er him,
And tumble out your praise before hims
However juft the application,
It looks a-fquint at adulation.

I would be honeft and fincere,
But not a flatterer, or severe.
Need I be furly, rough, uncouth,
That folks may think I love the truth!

And the, good dame, with Beauty's Queens

Was not at all times naked feen:

For every boy, with Prior, knows,
By accident the loft her cloaths,
When Falfhood ftole them to difguife
Her milbegotten brood of lies.
Why fhould the prudish Goddess dwell
Down at the bottom of a well,
But that fhe is in piteous fright,
Left, rifing up to mortal fight,
The modeft world fhould fleer and four hérj
With not a rag of cloaths about her?
Yet the might wear a proper drefs
And keep her effence ne'ertheless.
So Delia's bofom still will rife,
And fafcinate her lover's eyes,
Though round her ivory neck the draws;
The decent fhade of fpecious gauze.

I hear it buzz'd about the table,
What can this lead to

Sirs

A FABLE.

When Birds allow'd the Eagles fway,
Ere Eagles turn'd to fowls of prey,
His Royal Majesty of Air
Took Mufick underneath his care;
And, for his queen and court's delight,
Commanded concerts every night.
Here every Bird of Parts might enter,
The Nightingale was made Præcentor;
Under whofe cate and just direction,
Merit was fure to meet protection.
The Lark, the Blackbird, and the Robin
This concert always bore a bob in ;
The best performers all were in it,
The Thrush, Canary-bird, and Linnet.
But birds, alas! are apt to aim

At things, to which they've smallest claim.
The ftaring Owl, with hideous hoot,
Offer'd his fervice for a flute.

The Cuckow needs would join the band
"The Thruth is but a paultry hand :
"And I can beft fupply that place,
"For I've a shake, a fwell, a grace."

The Manager their fuit preferr'd:

Both tun'd their pipes, and both were heard.
Yet each their feveral praifes mifs'd,
For both were heard, and both were hifs'd.
The Cuckow hence, with rancour stirr'd,

(A kind of periodic bird,

Of nafty hue, and body scabby

No would-be-play-wright half fo shabby)
Reviles, abufes, and defames,

Screams from a branch, and calls hard names,
And strikes at Nightingale or Lark,
Like Lisbon ruffians, in the dark.

The Owl harangues the gaping throng
On Pow'rs, and excellence of tong,
"The Blackbird's note has loft its force;
"The Nightingale is downright hoarse;
"The Linnet's harsh; the Robin farill;
"The Sparrow has prodigious kill!"

At length they had what they defir'd:
The fkilful Nightingale retir'd.
When Folly came, with wild Uproar,
And Harmony was heard no more.

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Garters yclept, and other trophies,
Which prove that man in love an oaf is,
According to appointment, came
To fee CECILIA, tuneful dame,
Whofe praife by Dryden's Ode is grown
Bright and immortal as his own;
And who hath been for many years
The chief directress of the spheres.
Thomas, who rode behind the car,
And for a flambeau held a ftar,
Who, in the honeft way of trade,
Hath forg'd more horns, and cuckolds made,
Than Vulcan and his brawny dolts
Ever for Jove forg'd thunderbolts,
Slipt gently down and ran before 'em,
Ringing the bell with due decorum.

But, truth to fay, I cannot tell
Whether it Knocker was or Bell,
(This for vertù an anecdote is,)
Which us'd to give CECILIA notice,
When my lady of the fky

Was come to bear her company.
But this I'm fure, be which it will,
Thomas perform'd his part with skill.

Methinks I hear the reader cry-
His part with fkill? why, You or I,
Or any body elfe, as well

As Thomas, fure, could ring a bell,
Nor did I ever hear before

Of skill in knocking at a door.

Poor low-liv'd creature! I fuppofe,
Nay, and am fure, you're one of those
Who, at what door foe'er they be,
Will always knock in the fame key.
Thinking that Bell and Knocker too
Were found out nothing else to do,
But to inform the houfe, no doubt,
That there was fomebody without,
Who, if they might such favour wing
Would rather chufe to be within.

But had our fervants no more fenfe,
Lord! what must be the confequence?
Error would error till purfue,
And ftrife and anarchy enfue,
Punctilio from her altar hurl'd,
Whence the declares unto the world
Whate'er by fancy, is decreed,
Through all her niceties muft bleed.
For if there was not to be found
Some wholefome difference of found,
But the fame rap foretold th' approach
Of him who walk'd, or rode in coach,
A poor relation now and then,
Might to my lord admittance gain,
When his good lordship hop'd to fee
Some raftal of his own degree;
And, what is more unhappy ftill,
The ftupid wretch who brings a bill,
Might pafs through all the motley tribes
As free as one, who brings a bribe.

My lady too might pique her grace
With carriage ftiff and formal face,
Which, the deceiv'd, had taken care
For fome inferior to prepare ;

Or might fome wretch from Lombard-freet> With greater eafe and freedom meet,

'Than fenfe of honour will admit
Between my lady and a cit.

Those evils wifely to prevent,
And root out care and difcontent,
Ev'ry gay fmart, who rides behind,
With rofe and bag in tafte refin'd,
Muft mufick fully understand,
Have a nice ear and skilful hand;
At ev'ry turn be always found
A perfect connoiffeur in found;
Through all the gamut fkilful fly
Varying his notes, now low, now high,
According as he shifts his place;
Now hoarfely grumbling in the base,
Now turning tenor, and again
To treble raifing his fhrill ftrain;
So to declare, where'er he be,
His mafter's fortune and degree,
By the distinguishing address,
Which he'll upon the door exprefs.
Thomas, whom I have nam'd before
As ringing at CECILIA's door,
Was perfect mafter of this art,
And vers'd alike in ev'ry part:
So that Cæcilia knew, before
Her footman came unto the door,
And in due form had told her fo,
That Madam VENUS was below.

The doors immediate open flew,
The GODDESS, without more ado,
Difplaying beauty's thousand airs

Skim'd through the hall, and trip'd up fairs.
CECILIA met her with a smile
Of great delight, when all the while
If her falfe heart could have been feen,
She wish'd she had at Cyprus been.

But ladies, skill'd in forms and arts
Don't in their faces wear their hearts,
And thofe above like thofe below,
Deal frequently in outside show,
And always to keep up parade,
Have a smile by them ready-made.

The forms, which ladies when they meet
Muft for good-manners' fake repeat,
As humble fervant, how d'you do,
And in return, pray how are you?
Enrich'd at ev'ry proper fpace
With due integuments of lace,
As Madam; Grace, and Goddeship,
Which we for brevity shall skip,
Happily paft, in elbow-chair
At length our ladies feated are.

Indiff'rent fubjects first they chufe,
And talk of weather and the news.
That done, they fit upon the ftate,
And fnarl at the decrees of fate,
Invectives against Jove are hurl'd,
And They alone fhould rule the world,
Dull politicks at length they quit,
And by ill-nature fhew their wit;
For hand in hand, too well we know,
These intimates are faid to go,
So that where either doth prefide
T'other's existence is implied.
The man of wit, fo men decree,
Muft without doubt ill-natured be;
And the ill-natur'd scarce forgets
To rank himself among the wits.

Malicious VENUS, who by rote
Had ev'ry little anecdote,
And moft minutely could advance
Each interesting circumstance,
Which unto all intrigues related,
Since Jupiter the world created,
Difplay'd her eloquence with pride,
Hinted, obferv'd, enlarg'd, applied;
And not the reader to detain
With things impertinent and vain,
She did, as ladies do on earth
Who cannot bear a rival's worth,
In fuch a way each tale rehearse
As good made bad, and bad made worfe:
CECILIA too, with faint-like air,
But lately come from evening pray'r,
Who knew her duty, as a faint,
Always to pray, and not to faint,

And, rain or shine, her church ne'er mift,
Prude, dovetee, and methodist,
With equal zeal the cause promoted,
Mifconftru'd things, and words misquoted,
Mifreprefented, mifapplied,

And, infpiration being her guide,
The very heart of man diffected,
And to his principles objected.

Thus, amongst us, the fanctified,
In all the spirituals of pride,

Whofe honeft confciences ne'er refted,
Till, of carnalities divested,

They knew and felt themselves t'inherit
A double portion of the spirit:

Who from one church to t'other roam,
Whilft their poor children ftarve at home,
Confid'ring they may claim the care
Of Providence, who fent them there,
And therefore certainly is tied
To fee their ev'ry want fupplied;
Who unto preachers give away,

That which their creditors fhould pay,
And hold that chofen veffels muft

Be generous before they're juft.
And that their charity this way

Shall bind o'er heaven their debts to pay,
And ferve their temp'ral turn, no doubt,
Better than if they'd put it out,
Whilft nought hereafter can prevent,
Their fure reward of cent. per cent,
Who honeft labour fcorn, and fay
None need to work who love to pray,
For heav'n will fatisfy their cravings,
By fending of Elijah's ravens,

Or rain down, when their fpirits fail,
A dish of manna, or a quail;

Who from Moorfields to Tottenham Court

In furious fits of zeal refort,

Praife what they do not understand,

Turn up the eye, ftretch out the hand,

Melt into tears, whilft

-blows

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