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The Worthy court her, and the Worthlefs fear; Who fhun her piercing eye, that eye revere.

Her awful voice the Vain and Vile obey,

And ev'ry foe to Wisdom feels her sway. 104
Smarts, Pedants, as fhe fmiles, no more are vain;
Defponding Fops refign the clouded cane:
Hufh'd at her voice, pert Folly's felf is ftill,
And Dulness wonders while fhe drops her quill.
Like the arm'd BEE, with art moft fubtly true,
From poys'nous Vice fhe draws a healing dew:
Weak are the ties that civil arts can find,
To quell the ferment of the tainted mind:
Cunning evades, fecurely wrapt in wiles;
And Force ftrong-finew'd rends th' unequal toils:
The stream of Vice impetuous drives along, 115
Too deep for Policy, for Pow'r too ftrong.
Ev'n fair Religion, Native of the fkies,
Scorn'd by the Crowd, fecks refuge with the Wife;
The Crowd with laughter fpurns her awful train,
And Mercy courts, and Juftice frowns in vain. 120
But SATIRE's fhaft can pierce the harden'd breast:
She plays a ruling Passion on the reft :

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VER. 110. From poys'nous Vice, etc] Alluding to these Lines of Mr. Pope;

In the nice Bee what Art fo fubtly true

From poys'nous Herbs extracts a healing Dew?

Undaunted storms the batt'ry of his pride,
And awes the Brave that Earth and Heav'n defy'd.
When fell Corruption, by her vaffals crown'd, 125
Derides fall'n Justice proftrate on the ground;
Swift to redress an injur'd People's groan,
Bold SATIRE shakes the Tyrant on her throne;
Pow'rful as Death, defies the fordid train,
And Slaves and Sycophants furround in vain. 130

But with the friends of Vice, the foes of SATIRE, All truth is Spleen; all just reproof, Ill-nature.

Well may they dread the Mufe's fatal skill; Well may they tremble when she draws her quill: Her magic quill, that, like ITHURIEL's fpear, 135 Reveals the cloven hoof, or lengthen'd ear: Bids Vice and Folly take their natʼral shapes, Turns Ducheffes to ftrumpets, Beaux to apes; Drags the vile Whisp'rer from his dark abode, 'Till all the Dæmon starts up from the toad. 140

O fordid maxim, form'd to fkreen the vile, That true good-nature still must wear a smile! In frowns array'd her beauties stronger rise, When love of Virtue wakes her fcorn of Vice:

Where Justice calls, 'tis Cruelty to fave ; 145
And 'tis the Law's good-nature hangs the Knave.
Who combats Virtue's foe is Virtue's friend;
Then judge of SATIRE's merit by her end;
To Guilt alone her vengeance ftands confin'd,
The object of her love is all Mankind. 150
Scarce more the friend of Man, the wife must own,
Ev'nALLEN's bounteous hand,thanSATIRE'sfrown:
This to chaftife, as That to blefs, was giv'n;
Alike the faithful Minifters of Heav'n.

Oft in unfeeling hearts the shaft is spent: 155 Tho' ftrong th' example, weak the punishment. They leaft are paid, who merit fatire moft; Folly the Laureat's, Vice was Chartres' boast: Then where's the wrong, to gibbet high the name Of Fools and Knaves already dead to shame? 160 Oft SATIRE acts the faithful Surgeon's part; Gen'rous and kind tho' painful is her art: With caution bold, fhe only ftrikes to heal; Tho' folly raves to break the friendly fteel. Then fure no fault impartial SATIRE knows, 165 Kind ev'n in Vengeance, kind to Virtue's foes, Whofe is the crime, the fcandal too be theirs : The Knave and Fool are their own Libellers.



ARE nobly then: But confcious of your


As ever warm and bold be ever just :
Nor court applause in these degen'rate days:
The Villain's cenfure is extorted praise.


But chief, be fteady in a noble end, And fhew Mankind that Truth has yet a friend. Tis mean for empty praise of wit to write, 175 As Foplings grin to fhow their teeth are white: To brand a doubtful folly with a smile, Or madly blaze unknown defects, is vile: 'Tis doubly vile, when, but to prove your art, You fix an arrow in a blameless heart. 180

O loft to honour's voice, O doom'd to fhame,
Thou Fiend accurs'd, thou Murderer of Fame!
Fell Ravisher, from Innocence to tear
That name, than liberty, than life more dear!
Where fhall thy bafenefs meet it's juft return, 185
Or what repay thy guilt, but endless fcorn?
And know, immortal Truth shall mock thy toil:
Immortal Truth fhall bid the shaft recoil;

With rage retorted, wing the deadly dart;
And empty all it's poyson in thy heart.


With caution next, the dang'rous pow'r apply ;

An eagle's talon asks an eagle's eye :
Let SATIRE then her proper object know,
And ere fhe ftrike, be fure fhe strike a foe.
Nor fondly deem the real fool confest,
Because blind Ridicule conceives a jest :
Before whose altar Virtue oft hath bled,
And oft a deftin'd Victim fhall be lead:
Lo, Shaftfb'ry rears her high on Reason's throne,
And loads the Slave with honours not her own:
Big-fwoln with folly, as her fmiles provoke, 201
Prophaneness spawns, pert Dunces nurse the joke!
Come, let us join a while this titt'ring crew,
And own the Ideot Guide for once is true;
Deride our weak forefather's mufty rule, 205
Who therefore fmil'd, because they faw a Fool;
Sublimer logic now adorns our ifle,
We therefore fee a Fool, because we fmile.
Truth in her gloomy Cave why fondly feek?
Lo, gay fhe fits in Laughter's dimpled cheek:
Contemns each furly Academic foe,
And courts the fpruce Freethinker and the Beau.



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