A. But why infult the poor, affront the great?
P. A knave's a knave, to me, in ev'ry state:
Alike my scorn, if he fucceed or fail,
Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail,
A hireling scribler, or a hireling peer,
Knight of the poft corrupt, or of the fhire;
If on a pillory, or near a throne,
He gain his prince's ear, or lofe his own.
Yet foft by nature, more a dupe than wit,
Sappho can tell you how this man was bit:
This dreaded fat' rift Dennis will confefs

Let Budgel charge low Grubftreet on his quill,
And write whate'er he pleas'd, except his will;
Let the two Curls of town and court, abuse
His father, mother, body, foul, and muse.
Yet why? that father held it for a rule,
It was a fin to call our neighbour fool:
That harmless mother thought no wife a whore :
Hear this, and spare his family, James Moore!
Unfpotted names, and memorable long!
If there be force in virtue, or in song.

360

365

Foe to his pride, but friend to his distress:
So humble, he has knock'd at Tibbald's door,
Has drunk with Cibber, nay has rhym'd for Moor.
Full ten years flander'd, did he once reply?

Three thousand funs went down on Welfted's lye. 375
To please a mistress one afpers'd his life;

He lash'd him not, but let her be his wife:

And better got, than Beftia's from the throne.
Born to no pride, inheriting no ftrife,
Nor marrying discord in a noble wife,
Stranger to civil and religious rage,
The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age.

370

380

385

Of gentle blood (part fhed in Honour's caufe, While yet in Britain Honour had applause) Each parent fprung-A! What fortune, pray?-----P. Their own,

390

395 No

No courts he faw, no fuits would ever try;
Nor dar'd an oath, nor hazarded a lye.
Unlearn'd, he knew no fchoolman's fubtile art,
No language, but the language of the heart.
By nature honeft, by experience wife,
Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise;
His life, tho' long, to sickness past unknown,
His death was inftant, and without a groan.
O grant me thus to live, and thus to die!

400

Who fprung from kings fhall know lefs joy than I. 405
O friend! may each domeftic blifs be thine!
Be no unpleafing melancholy mine:
Me, let the tender office long engage,
To rock the cradle of repofing age,
With lenient arts extend a mother's breath,
Make langour fiile, and smooth the bed of death,
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,

And keep a while one parent from the sky!

On cares like these if length of days attend,
May heav'n, to blefs those days, preferve my friend, 415
Preserve him focial, chearful, and ferene,
And just as rich as when he ferv'd a QUEEN.

A. Whether that bleffing be deny'd or giv'n,
Thus far was right, the reft belongs to heav'n.

410

SATIRES

SATIRE S

AND

EPISTLES

O F

HORA ĆE

но

IMITATE D

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE HE occafion of publishing these Imitations was the clamour raised on fome of my Epiftles. An answer from Horace was both more full, and of more dignity, than any I could have made in my own perfon; and the example of much greater freedom in fo eminent a divine as Dr. Donne, feemed a proof with what indignation and contempt a chriftian may treat vice or folly, in ever fo low, or ever fo high a ftation. Both these authors were acceptable to the Princes and Minifters under whom they lived. The Satires of Dr. Donne I verfified, at the defire of the earl of Oxford, while he was lord treasurer, and of the duke of Shrewsbury, who had been secretary of ftate: neither of whom looked upon a Satire on vicious courts as any reflection on those they served in. And indeed there is not in the world a greater erTor, than that which fools are fo apt to fall into, and knaves with good reafon to encourage, the mistaking a

Satirift for a Libeller; whereas to a true Satirift nothing is fo odious as a Libeller, for the fame reafon as to a man truly virtuous nothing is so hateful as a Hypocrite.

ni æquus Virtuti atque ejus Amicis.

WHOEVER expects a Paraphrafe of Horace, or a faithful copy of his genius, or manner of writing, in thefe IMITATIONS, will be much disappointed. Our author uses the Roman poet for little more than his canvas; and if the old design or colouring chance to fuit his purpose, it is well; if not, he employs his own, without fcruple or ceremony. Hence it is, he is fo frequently ferious where Horace is in jeft; and at ease where Horace is difturbed, In a word, he regulates his movements no further on his original, than was neceffary for his concurrence, in promoting their common plan of Reformation of manners.

Had it been his purpose merely to paraphrase an ancient fatirift, he had hardly made choice of Horace ; with whom, as a poet, he held little in common, be fides a comprehenfive knowledge of life and manners, and a certain curious felicity of expreffion, which confifts in ufing the fimpleft language with dignity, and the most ornamented with ease. For the reft, his harmony and ftrength of numbers, his force and fplendor of colouring, his gravity and fublimity of fentiment, would have raVOL. II. D ther