Or when from Court a birth-day fuit bestow'd,
Sinks them loft Actor in the tawdry load.
Booth enters-hark! the universal peal!
"But has he spoken ?" Not a fyllable.

What shook the stage, and made the people ftare?

335

n Cato's long wig, flower'd gown, and lacquer'd chair. Yet, left you think I railly more than teach, Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,

340

Let me for once presume t' instruct the times,
To know the Poet from the man of rhymes:
'Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Paffion that he feigns;
Inrage, compofe, with more than magic Art;
With pity, and with terror, tear my heart;

And fnatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
P But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deserves the favour of the Great:

345

Think

Cum ftetit in fcena, concurrit dextera laevae.
Dixit adhuc aliquid? nil fane. Quid placet ergo?
Lana Tarentino violas imitata veneno.

Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipfe recufem,
Cum recte tractent alii, laudare maligne:

Ille

per extentum funem mihi poffe videtur

Ire poeta;

• meum qui pectus inaniter angit, Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis. * Verum age, et his, qui fe lectori credere malunt, Quam fpectatoris faftidia ferre fuperbi,

Think of thofe Authors, Sir, who would rely

350

More on a Reader's fenfe, than Gazer's eye.

Or who fhall wander where the Mufes fing?

Who climb their mountain, or who taste their spring? How fhall we fill a Library with Wit,

When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet?

355

My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought,

I guess; and, with their leave, will tell the fault:
We Poets are (upon a Poet's word)

Of all mankind, the creatures most abfurd:

The feafon, when to come, and when to go,
To fing, or ceafe to fing, we never know;
And if we will recite nine hours in ten,
You lose your patience just like other men.
Then too we hurt ourselves, when, to defend
A fingle verfe, we quarrel with a friend;
Repeat" unafk'd; w lament, the Wit 's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out every line;
But most, when, ftraining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epiftles to the King;

360

365

And

Curam impende brevem: fi 9 munus Apolline dignum
Vis complere libris; et vatibus addere calcar,
Ut studio majore petant Helicona virentem.

t

Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetae,
(Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum
Solicito damus, aut feffo: cum laedimur, unum
Si quis amicorum eft aufus reprendere verfum :
Cum loca jam " recitata revolvimus irrevocati:
Cum w lamentamur non apparere labores

And from the moment we oblige the town,
Expect a place, or Penfion from the Crown;
Or, dubb'd Hiftorians by exprefs command,
'T' enroll your triumphs o'er the feas and land,
Be call'd to Court to plan fome work divine,
As once for Louis, Boileau and Racine.

Yet think, great Sir! (fo many Virtues fhown)
Ah think, what Poet beft may make them known?
Or chufe at least some Minister of Grace,
Fit to bestow the Laureat's weighty place.

370

375

* Charles, to late times to be tranfmitted fair, 380 Affign'd his figure to Bernini's care;

And

Noftros, et tenui deducta poemata filo:

X

Cum * fperamus eo rem venturam, ut, fimul atque
Carmina refcieris nos fingere, commodus ultro
Arceffas, et egere vetes, et fcribere cogas.
Sed tamen eft operae pretium cognofcere, quales
Aedituos habeat belli fpectata domique

Virtus, indigno non committenda poetae.

a Gratus Alexandro regi Magno fuit ille Choerilus, incultis qui verfibus et male natis Rettulit acceptos, regale numifma, Philippos. Sed veluti tractata notam labemque remittunt Atramenta, fere fcriptores carmine foedo Splendida fafta linunt. idem rex ille, poema Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit, Edicto vetuit, ne quis fe praeter Apellem Pingeret, aut alius Lyfippo duceret aera

b

385

And great Naffau to Kneller's hand decreed
To fix him graceful on the bounding Steed;
So well in paint and ftone they judg'd of merit:
But Kings in Wit may want difcerning Spirit.
The Hero William, and the Martyr Charles,
One knighted Blackmore, and one penfion'd Quarles;
Which made old Ben and furly Dennis fwear,
"No Lord 's anointed, but a Ruffian Bear."
Not with fuch majefty, fuch bold relief,
The Forms auguft, of King, or conquering Chief,
E'er fwell'd on marble; as in verse have shin'd
(In polish'd verfe) the manners and the Mind.
Oh! could I mount on the Mæonian wing,

e

d

390

Your Arms, your Actions, your Repose to fing; 395 What f feas you travers'd, and what fields you fought! Your Country's Peace, how oft, how dearly bought!

How

Fortis Alexandri vultum fimulantia. quod fi
Judicium fubtile videndis artibus illud
Ad libros et ad haec Mufarum dona vocares;
Boeotum in craffo jurares aëre natum.

[At neque dedecorant tua de fe judicia, atque Munera quae multa dantis cum laude tulerunt, Dilecti tibi Virgilius Variufque poetae ;]

Nec magis expreffi vultus per ahenea figna, Quam per vatis opus mores animique virorum Clarorum apparent. nec fermones ego mallem Repentes per humum, quam res componere geftas, Terrarumque f fitus et flumina dicere, et arces

How 3 barbarous rage fubfided at your word,

And Nations wonder'd while they dropp'd the fword! How, when you nodded, o'er the land and deep, 400 h Peace ftole her wing, and wrapp'd the world in fleep; Till earth's extremes your mediation own,

Andi Afia's Tyrants tremble at your Throne

k

But Verfe, alas! your Majefty difdains;

And I 'm not us'd to Panegyric strains:
The Zeal of Fools offends at any time,
But most of all, the Zeal of Fools in rhyme.
Befides, a fate attends on all I write,

405

That when I aim at praife, they fay m I bite.
A vile Encomium doubly ridicules:
There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools.
If true, a woful likeness; and if lyes,
"Praise undeferv'd is fcandal in difguife:"

410

Well

Montibus impofitas, et barbara regna, tuifque
Aufpiciis totum confecta duella per orbem,

h

h

Clauftraque cuftodem pacis cohibentia Janum,

Eti formidatam Parthis, te principe, Romam:
Si quantum cuperem, poffem quoque. fed neque parvum
Carmen majeftas recipit tua; nec meus audet

Rem tentare pudor, quam vires ferre recufent.
Sedulitas autem 1 ftulte, quem diligit, urget;
Praecipue cum fe numeris commendat et arte.
Difcit enim citius, meminitque libentius illud

m

ficto

Quod quis deridet, quam quod probat et veneratur.
Nil moror" officium, quod me gravat: ac neque
In pejus vultu proponi cereus ufquam,