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Ambition figh'd: fhe found it vain to trust
The faithlefs column and the crumbling buft:
Huge moles whose shadow stretch'd from shore to shore,
Their ruins perifh'd, and their place no more!
Convinc'd, the now contracts her vast design,
And all her triumphs fhrink into a Coin.
A narrow orb each crouded conqueft keeps,
Beneath her palm here fad Judea weeps.
Now fcantier limits the proud arch confine,
And fcarce are feen the proftrate Nile or Rhine;
A fmall Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd,
And little Eagles wave their wings in gold.

The Medal, faithful to its charge of fame,
Thro' climes and ages bears each form and name:
In one fhort view fubjected to our eye
Gods, Emperors, Heroes, Sages, Beauties, lie.
With fharpen'd fight pale Antiquaries pore,
Th' infcription value, but the ruft adore.
This the blue varnish, that the green endears,
The facred ruft of twice ten hundred years!
To gain Pefcennius one employs his schemes,
One grafps a Cecrops in extatic dreams.
Poor Vadius, long with learned spleen devour'd,
Can taste no pleasure fince his shield was fcour'd:
And Curio, restless by the fair-one's fide,
Sighs for an Otho, and neglects his bride.

Theirs is the Vanity, the learning thine : Touch'd by thy hand, again Rome's glories fhine; Her Gods, and godlike Heroes rife to view, And all her faded garlands bloom a-new..

Nor blush, these studies thy regard engage;
These pleas'd the fathers of poetic rage:
The verse and sculpture bore an equal part,
And art reflected images to art.

Oh when shall Britain, confcious of her claim,
Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame ?
In living medals fee her wars enroll'd,
And vanquish'd realms fupply recording gold?
Here, rifing bold, the Patriot's honest face;
There, Warriors frowning in historic brass:
Then future ages with delight fhall fee
How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's looks agree:
Or in fair feries laurel'd Bards be shown,

A Virgil there, and here an Addison.

Then fhall thy CRAGGS (and let me call him mine) On the caft ore, another Pollio shine;

With aspect open shall erect his head, And round the orb in lafting notes be read, "Statesman, yet friend to truth! of foul fincere, "In action faithful, and in honour clear; "Who broke no promife, ferv'd no private end, "Who gain'd no title, and who loft no friend; "Ennobled by himself, by all approv'd,

"And prais'd, unenvy'd, by the Mufe he lov'd."


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The first publication of this Epiftle.

THIS paper is a fort of bill of complaint, begun many years fince, and drawn up by fnatches, as the feveral occafions offered. I had no thoughts of publishing it, till it pleased some perfons of Rank and Fortune [the Authors of Verses to the Imitator of Horace and of an Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton Court] to attack, in a very ex→ traordinary manner, not only my Writings (of which, being public, the Public is judge) but my Perfon, Morals and Family, whereof, to those who know me not, a truer information may be requifite. Being divided between the neceffity to fay fomething of myself, and my own laziness to undertake fo aukward a task, I thought it the shortest way to put the last hand to this Epistle. If it have any thing pleasing, it will be that by which I am most defirous to please, the Truth and the Sentiment; and if any thing offenfive, it will be only to those I am leaft forry to offend, the vicious or the ungenerous.

Many will know their own pictures in it, there be-ing not a circumftance but what is true; but I have for the most part, spared their Names, and they may efcape being laughed at, if they please.

I would, have fome of them know, it was owing to

the request of the learned and candid Friend to whom it is infcribed, that I make not as free ufe of theirs as they have done of mine. However, I shall have this advantage, and honour, on my fide, that whereas, by their proceeding, any abufe may be directed at any man, no injury can poffibly be done by mine, fince a nameless character can never be found out, but by its truth and likeness.

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