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EP IS TO L A I.
RIMA diete mihi, fumma dicende camena,
• Spectatum satis, et donatum jam rude, quaeriss
Maecenas, iterum antiquo me includere ludo.
Non eadem eft aetas, non mens. · Veianius, armis
Ver. 3. Sabbath of my days?] i. e. The 49th year, the age of the Author.
Ver. 8. Hang their old Trophies o'er the Garden gates,] An occasional stroke of Satire on ill-placed ornaments. He has more openly ridiculed them in his Epiftle on Tafe.
E P I S T L E I.
To L. BOLINGBROKE.
T. John, whose love indulg'd my labours paft,
Matures my present, and shall bound my last ! Why will you break the Sabbath of my days? Now fick alike of Envy and of Praise. Public too long, ah let me hide my Age!
$ See Modeft Cibber now has left the Stage : Our Gen’rals now, retir'd to their Eftates, Hang their old Trophies o'er the Garden gates, In Life's cool Ev'ning satiate of Applause, Nor e fond of bleeding, ev’n in BRUNSWICK's cause.
f A Voice there is, that whispers in my ear, ('Tis Reason's voice, which sometimes one can hear) “ Friend Pope! be prudent, let your s Mufe take
breath, " And never gallop Pegasus to death;
“ Load some vain Church with old theatric state,
• Turn Arcs of Triumph to a garden gate. Ver. 10. et'n in Brunswick's cause.] In the former Editions it was, Britain's cause. But the terms are fynony.
Nunc itaque et hversus, et caetera ludicra pono: :
Quid i verum atque decens, curo et rogo, et omnis in
k Condo, et compono, quae mox depromere posfim.
* Quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor bofpes.
Nunc agilis fio, et merfor a civilibus undis,
Virtutis verae cuftos, origidusque satelles :
Nunc in * Aristippi P furtim praecepta relabor,
Et mihi res, non me rebus, fubjungere conor.
9 Ut nox longa, quibus mentitur amica ; diesque
* Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et status, et res.
Ver. 16. You limp, like Blackmore on a Lord Mayor's horse. The fame of this heavy Poet, however problematical elsewhere, was universally received in the City of London. His versification is here exactly described : stiff,