Kind self-conceit to some her glass applies,
Which no one looks in with another's eyes:
But as the flatterer or dependant paint,
Beholds himself a patriot, chief, or saint,
On others interest her gay livery flings,
Interest, that waves on party-colour'd wings:
Turn'd to the sun, she casts a thousand dyes,
And, as she turns, the colours fall or rise.
Others the syren sisters warble round,
And empty, heads console with empty sound.
No more, alas! the voice of fame they hear,
The balm of dulness trickling in their ear.
Great C**, H**, P**, R**, K*,
Why all your toils? your sons have learn'd to sing.
How quick ambition hastes to ridicule :
The sire is made a peer, the son a fool.
On some, a priest succinct in amice white
Attends; all flesh is nothing in his sight!
Beeves, at his touch, at once to jelly turn,
And the huge boar is shrunk into an urn:
The board with specious miracles he loads,
Turns hares to larks, and pigeons into toads.
Another (for in all what one can shine?)
Explains the seve and verdeur of the vine.
What cannot copious sacrifice atone?
Thy truffles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne !
With French libation, and Italian strain,
Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's t stain.
Knight lifts the head; for what are crowds undone,
To three essential partridges in one?
* Seve and verdeur.] French terms relating to wines, which signify their flavour and poignancy.
+ Bladen-Hays.] Names of gamesters. Bladen was a black man.-Robert Knight, Cashier of the South Sea Company, who fled from England in 1720 (afterwards pardoned in 1742.)-These lived with the utmost magnificence at Paris, and kept open tables frequented by persons of the first quality of England, and even by princes of the blood of France.
Gone every blush, and silent all reproach,
Contending princes mount them in their coach.
Next bidding all draw near on bended knees,
The queen confers her titles and degrees.
Her children first of more distinguish'd sort,
Who study Shakspeare at the Inns of Court,
Impale a glow-worm, or vertù profess,
Shine in the dignity of F. R. S.
Some, deep free-masons, join the silent race,
Worthy to fill Pythagoras's place:
Some botanists, or florists at the least,
Or issue members of an annual feast.
Nor past the meanest unregarded, one
Rose a Gregorian, one a Gormogon.
The last, not least in honour or applause,
Isis and Cam made doctors of her laws.
Then, blessing all, " Go, children of my care! To practice now from theory repair.
All my commands are easy, short, and full:
My sons! be proud, be selfish, and be dull.
Guard my prerogative, assert my throne:
This nod confirms each privilege your own.
The cap and switch be sacred to his grace;
With staff and pumps the marquis leads the race;
From stage to stage the licens'd earl may run,
Pair'd with his fellow-charioteer, the sun;
The learned baron butterflies design,
Or draw to silk Arachne's subtile line;
The judge to dance his brother serjeant call;
The senator at cricket urge the ball;
The bishop, stow (pontific luxury !)
An hundred souls of turkeys in a pye;
The sturdy squire to Gallic masters stoop,
And drown his lands and manors in a soup.
Others import yet nobler arts from France,
Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.
Perhaps more high some daring son may soar,
Proud to my list to add one monarch more;
And nobly-conscious, princes are but things
Born for first ministers, as slaves for kings,
Tyrant supreme! shall three estates command,
And make one mighty Dunciad of the land!"
More she had spoke, but yawn'd-All nature nods?
What mortal can resist the yawn of gods?
Churches and chapels instantly it reach'd;
(St. James's first, for leaden G- preach'd,) *
Then catch'd the schools; the hall scarce kept
awake;
The convocation gap'd, but could not speak :
Lost was the nation's sense, nor could be found,
While the long solemn unison went round:
Wide, and more wide, it spread o'er all the realm;
Ev'n Palinurus nodded at the helm:
The vapour mild o'er each committee crept ;
Unfinish'd treaties in each office slept ;
And chiefless armies doz'd out the campaign;
And navies yawn'd for orders on the main.
O Muse! relate, (for you can tell alone,
Wits have short memories, and dunces none,)
Relate who first, who last, resign'd to rest;
Whose heads she partly, whose completely blest ;t
What charms could faction, what ambition lull,
The venal quiet, and intrance the dull;
Till drown'd was sense, and shame, and right, and
O sing, and hush the nations with thy song!
In vain, in vain-the all-composing hour Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the pow'r.
* Gilbert, Bishop of Salisbury, who had in a rude manner attacked Dr. King of Oxford, whom Pope much respected.
Relate who first, who last, resign'd to rest;
Whose heads she partly, whose completely blest.]
"Quem telo primum, quem postremum aspera Virgo
Dejicis? aut quot humi, morientia corpora fundis?"
She comes! she comes! the sable throne behold
Of Night primeval, and of Chaos old!
Before her, fancy's gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying rainbows die away.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sickening stars fade off the' etherial plain;
As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest,
Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
Art after art goes out, and all is night.
See sculking Truth to her old cavern filed,
Mountains of casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Physic of metaphysic begs defence,
And metaphysic calls for aid on sense!
See mystery to mathematics fly!
In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.
Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires.
Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine;
Ncr human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restor'd;
Light dies before thy uncreating word:
Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.
THE BASSET-TABLE.-AN ECLOGUE.
Cardelia, Smilinda, Lovet.
Card. THE Basset-table spread, the tallier come,
Why stays Smilinda in the dressing-room?
Rise, pensive nymph! the tallier waits for you."
Smil. Ab, madam! since my Sharper is untrue,
I joyless make my once ador'd Alpeu.
I saw him stand behind Ombrelia's chair,
And whisper with that soft deluding air,
And those feign'd sighs which cheat the listen-
ing fair.
Card. Is this the cause of your romantic strains?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains:
As you by love, so I by fortune crost;
One, one bad deal, three septlevas have lost.
Smil. Is that the grief which you compare with
mine?
With ease the smiles of fortune I resign:
Would all my gold in one bad deal were gone,
Were lovely Sharper mine, and mine alone.
Card. A lover lost is but a common care,
And prudent nymphs against that change prepare:
The knave of clubs thrice lost; oh! who could guess
This fatal stroke, this unforeseen distress?
Smil. See Betty Lovet! very a-propos,
She all the cares of love and play does know:
Dear Betty shall the' important point decide;
Betty! who oft the pain of each has tried;
Impartial, she shall say who suffers most,
By cards' ill usage, or by lovers lost.
Lov. Tell, tell your griefs, attentive will I stay, Though time is precious, and I want some tea. Card. Behold this equipage, by Mathers wrought, With fifty guineas (a great penn'worth) bought.
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