Sepulchral Lies, our holy walls to grace,

45

And New-year Odes, and all the Grub-street race.
In clouded majefty here Dulness shone;
Four Guardian virtues, round, fupport her throne:
Fierce champion Fortitude, that knows no fears
Of hiffes, blows, or want or lots of ears:
Calm Temperance, whose bleffings those partake
Who hunger and who thirst for fcribbling' fake: 50
Prudence, whofe glafs prefents th' approaching jail;
Poetic Juftice, with her lifted fcale,

Where, in nice balance, truth with gold fhe weighs,
And folid pudding against empty praife.

Here he beholds the Chaos dark and deep,
Where nameless Somethings in their caufes fleep,
'Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day,
Call forth each mass, a poem or a play :

How hints, like fpawn, fcarce quick in embryo lie,
How new-born Nonfenfe firft is taught to cry,
Maggots half-form'd in rhyme exactly meet,
And learn to crawl upon poetic feet.

Here one poor word an hundred clenches makes,
And ductile Dulnefs new meanders takes:
There motley images her fancy (trike,
Figures ill-pair'd, and fimilies unlike.
She fees a mob of Metaphors advance,
Pleas'd with the madness of the mazy dance;

"Rifing in clouded majesty.”-------- Milton, B. IV.

2. 48. --that knows no fears

Of hiffes, blows, or want or loss of ears.]

"Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula torrent."

v. 55. Here fee beholds the Chaos dark and deep,

Where nameless Something, &c.]

Hor.

55

60

65

That is to fay, unformed things, which are either made into poems, or

plays, as the bookfellers or the players bid most.

the following in Garth's Difpenfary, canto vi.

Thefe lines allude to

Within the chambers of the globe they spy "The beds where fleeping vegetables lie,

the gladiummons of a genial ray

Unbinds the glebe, and calls them out to day."

v. 64. And ductile Dulness, &c.] A parody on a verfe in Garth

How tragedy and Comedy embrace;
How Farce and Epic get a jumbled race;
How Time himself ftands ftill at her command,
Realms fhift their place, and ocean turns to land.
Here gay Defcription Egypt glad with show'rs,
Or gives to Zembla fruits, to Barca flow'rs;
Glitt'ring with ice here hoary hills are seen,
There painted vallies of eternal green;
In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the fnow.

All thefe, and more, the cloud-compelling Queen
Beholds through fogs that magnify the scene.
She, tinfel'd o'er in robes of varying hues,
With felf-applaufe her wild creation views;
Sees momentary monsters rife and fall,

70

75

80

85

And with her own fools-colours gilds them all.
'Twas on the day when *** rich and grave,
Like Cimon, triumph'd both on land and wave:
(Pomps without guilt, of bloodlefs fwords and maces,
Glad chains, warm furs, broad banners, and broad
faces.)

Now Night defcending, the proud fcene was o'er,
But liv'd in Settle's numbers one day more.
Now may'rs and shrieves all hush'd and fatiate lay,
Yet eat, in dreams, the custard of the day;
While penfive poets painful vigils keep,
Sleeplefs themselves to give their readers fleep.
Much to to the mindful Queen the feaft recalls
What City fwans once fung within the walls;

VARIATIONS.

v. 85.] In the former editions:

'Twas on the day when Thorold, rich and grave.

90

95

Much

Sir Geo. Thorold, Lord Mayor of London in the year 1720.
IMITATIONS.

v. 79. ------ the loud-compelling Queen.] From Homer's epithet of Jupiter, νεφεληγερέτα Ζευς.

REMARKS.

v. 9o. But liv'd in Settle's numbers one day more.] Settle was poet to the city of London. His office was to compofe yearly Panegyrics upon the Lord Mayors, and verfes to be spoken in the Pageants, but that part of the fhows being at length frugally abolished, the employment of City. poet ceafed; fo that upon Settle's demite there was no fucceffor to that place.

100

Much the revolves their arts, their ancient praise,
And fure fucceffion down from Heywood's days.
She faw with joy the line immortal run,
Each fire imprest and glaring in his son:
So watchful Bruin forms, with plastic care,
Each growing lump, and brings it to a bear.
She faw old Pryn in restless Daniel shine,
And Eufden eke out Blackmore's endless line;
She faw flow Philips creep like Tate's poor page, 105
And all the mighty mad in Dennis rage.

In each the marks her image full expreft,
But chief in Bayes's monfter-breeding breast;

REMARKS.

Bayes,

v. 98. John Heywood.] Whofe Interludes were printed in the time of Henry VIII.

v. 103. ------old Pryn in reflefs Daniel.] The first edition had it,

She faw in Norton all his father fhine.

A great mistake! for Daniel De Foe had parts, but Norton de Foe was a wretched writer, and never attempted poetry. Much more justly is Daniel himself made fucceffor to W. Pryn, both of whom wrote verfes as well as politics; as appears by the poem De Jure Divino, &c. of De Foe, and by these lines in Cowley's Mifcellanies, on the other:

One lately did not fear

"(Without the Mufes' leave) to plant verfe here.
"But it produc'd fuch bafe, rough, crabbed, hedge-
"Rymes, as e'en fet the hearer's ears on edge;
"Written by William Pryn, Efquire, the
"Year of our Lord fix hundred thirty-three.

"Brave Jerfey Mufe! and he's, for his high ftyle,
"Call'd to this day the Homer of the Ifle."

And both thefe authors had a refemblance in their fates as well as their writings, having been alike fentenced to the pillory.

v. 104. And Eufden eke out, &c.] Laurence Eufden, Poet-laureate. Mr. Jacob gives a catalogue of fome few only of his works, which are very numerous. Mr. Cooke, in his Battle of Poets, faith of him,

"Eufden, a laurel'd bard, by Fortune rais'd,

"By very few was read, by fewer prais'd."

v. 105. Like Tate's poor page.] Nahum Tate was Poet-laureate, a cold writer of no invention; but fometimes tranflated tolerably when befriended by Mr. Dryden. In his fecond part of Abfalom and Ahithopef are above two hundred admirable lines together of that great hand, which ftrongly thine through the infipidity of the rest. Something parelle! may be obferved of another author here mentioned.

VARIATIONS.

v. 108. But chief in Bayes's, &c. In the former edition thus:
But chief in Tibbald's monster-breeding breast:
Sees gods with dæmons in ftrange-league engage,
And earth, and heav'n, and hell her battles wage.
She ey'd the bard, where fupperlefs he fate,
And pin'd, unconfcious of his rifing fate;
Studious he fate with all his books around,
Sinking from thought to thought, &c.-- --

Bayes, form'd by Nature Stage and Town to blefs,
And act and be a coxcomb with fuccefs.
Dulness with transport eyes the lively Dunce,
Remembring the herself was Pertnefs once.
Now (fhame to Fortune!) an ill run at play
Blanck'd his bold vifage, and a thin third day:
Swearing and fupperlefs the hero fate,

115

Blafphem'd his gods, the dice, and damn'd his fate;
Then gnaw'd his pen, then dafht it on the ground,
Sinking from thought to thought a vast profound!
Plung'd for his fenfe, but found no bottom there,
Yet wrote and flounder'd on in mere defpair.
Round him much embryo, much abortion lay,
Much future ode, and abdicated play;
Nonfenfe precipitate, like running lead,

120

125

That flip'd through cracks and zigzags of the head;
All that on Folly Frenzy could beget,
Fruits of dull heat, and footerkins of wit.
Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing meinory of all he stole;

How here he fip'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And fuck'd all o'er like an induftrious bug.

Here lay poor Fletcher's half-eat scenes, and here
The frippery of crucify'd Moliere;

There hapless Shakespeare, yet of Tibbald fore,
With'd he had blotted for himself before.

REMARKS.

130

v. 109. Bayes, form'd by Nature, &c.] It is hoped the Poet here hath done full juftice to his Hero's character, which it were a great mistake to imagine was wholly funk in stupidity: he is allowed to have fupported it with a wonderful mixture of vivacity. This character is heightened according to his own defire, in a letter he wrote to our Author: "Pert

VARIATIONS.

2. 121. Round him much embryo, &c.] In the former editions thus:
He roll'dhis eyes, that witnefs'd huge difmay,
Where yet unpawn'd, much learned lumber lay;
Volumes, whofe fize the space exactly fill'd,
Or which fond authors were fo good to gild,
Or where, by fceptre made for ever known,
The page admires new beauties not its own.
Here fwells the shelf, &c.

IMITATIONS.

Var. He rolled his eyes, that witness'd huge difmay.] ·

66 round he throws his eyes,

--

"That witness'd huge afflition and difmay."

and

Milt. Book I

The progrefs of a bad poet in his thoughts, being (like the progrefs of the Devilin Milton) through a chaos, might probably fuggeft this imitation.