Deny'd our ready homage to express,
And can at best but thankful be by guess;
This hope remains; may David's Godlike mind, 35
(For him 'twas wrote) the unknown Author find;
And, having found, show'r equal favours down
On wit so vast, as could oblige a crown.
UPON THE AUTHOR OF THE MEDAL,
ONCE more our awful Poet arms t' engage
The threat'ning hydra-faction of the age;
Once more prepares his dreadful pen to wield,
And ev'ry muse attends him to the field.
By Art and Nature for this task design'd,
Yet modestly the fight he long declin❜d;
Forbore the torrent of his verse to pour,
Nor loos'd his satire 'till the needful hour.
His Sov'reign's right, by patience half betray'd,
Wak'd his avenging genius to his aid.
Blest Muse, whose wit with such a cause was crown'd
And blest the cause that such a champion found!
With chosen verse upon the foe he falls,
And black Sedition in each quarter galls;
Yet, like a prince with subjects forc'd t' engage. 15
Secure of conquest he rebates his rage;
His fury not without distinction sheds,
Hurls mortal bolts, but on devoted heads;
To less infected members gentle found,
Or spares, or else pours balm into the wound.
Such gen'rous grace th' ingrateful tribe abuse,
And trespass on the mercy of his muse:
Their wretched dogrel rhymers forth they bring,
To snarl and bark against the poet's king;
A crew that scandalize the nation more
Than all their treason-canting priests before.
On these he scarce vouchsafes a scornful smile,
But on their powerful patrons turns his style:
A style so keen as e'en from faction draws
The vital poison, stabbs to th' heart their cause. 30
Take then, great Bard! what tribute we can raise ;
Accept our thanks, for you transcend our praise.
AND OF ABSALOM AND ACHITHOPHEL.
THUS pious Ignorance, with dubious praise,
Altars of old to gods unknown did raise :
They knew not the lov'd Deity; they knew
Divine effects a cause divine did shew;
Nor can we doubt, when such these numbers are, Such is their cause, tho' the worst muse shall dare Their sacred worth in humble verse declare.
As gentle Thames, charm'd with thy tuneful song, Glides in a peaceful majesty along,
No rebel stone, no lofty bank does brave
The easy passage of his silent wave;
So, sacred Poet! so thy numbers flow,
Sinewy, yet mild as happy lovers wooe,
Strong, yet harmonious too as planets move,
Yet soft as down upon the wings of Love.
How sweet does virtue in your dress appear;
How much more charming, when much less severe ?
Whilst you our senses harmlessly beguile,
With all th' allurements of your happy style;
'Y' insinuate loyalty with kind deceit,
And into sense th' unthinking many cheat.
So the sweet Thracian, with his charming lyre,
Into rude nature virtue did inspire;
So he the savage herd to reason drew,
Yet scarce so sweet, so charmingly, as you.
O that you would, with some such powerful charm,
Enervate Albion to just value warm!
Whether much-suffering Charles shall theme afford,
Or the great deeds of godlike James's sword.
Again fair Gallia might be ours again,
Another fleet might pass the subject main,
His fury not without distinction sheds,
Hurls mortal bolts, but on devoted heads;
To less infected members gentle found,
Or spares, or else pours balm into the wound.
Such gen'rous grace th' ingrateful tribe abuse,
And trespass on the mercy of his muse:
Their wretched dogrel rhymers forth they bring,
To snarl and bark against the poet's king;
A crew that scandalize the nation more
Than all their treason-canting priests before.
On these he scarce vouchsafes a scornful smile,
But on their powerful patrons turns his style:
A style so keen as e'en from faction draws
The vital poison, stabbs to th' heart their cause.
Take then, great Bard! what tribute we can raise ;
Accept our thanks, for you transcend our praise.
AND OF ABSALOM AND ACHITHOPHEL.
THUS pious Ignorance, with dubious praise,
Altars of old to gods unknown did raise :
They knew not the lov'd Deity; they knew
Divine effects a cause divine did shew;
Nor can we doubt, when such these numbers are, Such is their cause, tho' the worst muse shall dare Their sacred worth in humble verse declare.
As gentle Thames, charm'd with thy tuneful song, Glides in a peaceful majesty along,
No rebel stone, no lofty bank does brave
The easy passage of his silent wave;
So, sacred Poet! so thy numbers flow,
Sinewy, yet mild as happy lovers wooe,
Strong, yet harmonious too as planets move,
Yet soft as down upon the wings of Love.
How sweet does virtue in your dress appear;
How much more charming, when much less severe ?
Whilst you our senses harmlessly beguile,
With all th' allurements of your happy style;
'Y' insinuate loyalty with kind deceit,
And into sense th' unthinking many cheat.
So the sweet Thracian, with his charming lyre,
Into rude nature virtue did inspire;
So he the savage herd to reason drew,
Yet scarce so sweet, so charmingly, as you.
O that you would, with some such powerful charm, Enervate Albion to just value warm!
Whether much-suffering Charles shall theme afford, Or the great deeds of godlike James's sword., Again fair Gallia might be ours again,
Another fleet might pass the subject main,
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