2 Thine was the sway, ere heaven was form'd, or earth, Ere fruitful Thought conceived Creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.

3 Then various elements against thee join'd,

In one more various animal combined,

And framed the clamorous race of busy humankind.

4 The tongue moved gently first, and speech was low, Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show, And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

5 But rebel Wit deserts thee oft in vain ; Lost in the maze of words he turns again, And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

6 Afflicted Sense thou kindly dost set free, Oppress'd with argumental tyranny,

And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

7 With thee in private modest Dulness lies,

And in thy bosom lurks in Thought's disguise; Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise!

8 Yet thy indulgence is by both confess'd;

Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,

And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest.

9 Silence! the knave's repute, the whore's good name, The only honour of the wishing dame;

Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of fame.

10 But couldst thou seize some tongues that now are free, How Church and State should be obliged to thee! At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would'st thou be!

11 Yet Speech even there submissively withdraws

From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause : Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy laws.

12 Past services of friends, good deeds of foes,

What favourites gain, and what the nation owes, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

13 The country wit, religion of the town,

The courtier's learning, policy o' the gown, Are best by thee express'd, and shine in thee alone.

14 The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry, Lord's quibble, critic's jest, all end in thee, All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

VI. EARL OF DORSET.

ARTEMISIA. 1

1 THOUGH Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;

Reads Malebranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in some things methinks she fails-
"Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.

2 Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Such nastiness, and so much pride

1 This, it is said, was intended for Queen Caroline.

Are oddly join'd by fate:

On her large squab you find her spread, Like a fat corpse upon a bed,

That lies and stinks in state.

3 She wears no colours (sign of grace) On any part except her face;

All white and black beside: Dauntless her look, her gesture proud, Her voice theatrically loud,

And masculine her stride.

4 So have I seen, in black and white A prating thing, a magpie height, Majestically stalk;

A stately, worthless animal,

That plies the tongue, and wags the tail,
All flutter, pride, and talk.

PHRYNE.

1 PHRYNE had talents for mankind,
Open she was, and unconfined,
Like some free port of trade :
Merchants unloaded here their freight,
And agents from each foreign state
Here first their entry made.

2 Her learning and good breeding such,
Whether the Italian or the Dutch,
Spaniards or French came to her:
To all obliging she'd appear,

"Twas 'Si, Signor,' 'twas 'Yaw, Mynheer,' 'Twas 'S'il vous plaît, Monsieur.'

3 Obscure by birth, renown'd by crimes,
Still changing names, religions, climes,
At length she turns a bride:

In diamonds, pearls, and rich brocades,
She shines the first of batter'd jades,
And flutters in her pride.

4 So have I known those insects fair;
(Which curious Germans hold so rare)
Still vary shapes and dyes;

Still gain new titles with new forms;
First grubs obscene, then wriggling worms,
Then painted butterflies.

VII. DR SWIFT.

THE HAPPY LIFE OF A COUNTRY PARSON.

PARSON, these things in thy possessing
Are better than the bishop's blessing:-
A wife that makes conserves; a steed
That carries double when there's need:
October store, and best Virginia,
Tithe-pig, and mortuary guinea:
Gazettes sent gratis down, and frank'd,
For which thy patron's weekly thank'd:
A large Concordance, bound long since:
Sermons to Charles the First, when prince :
A Chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chrysostom to smooth thy band in:
The Polyglot-three parts—my text,
Howbeit-likewise-now to my next:
Lo, here the Septuagint-and Paul,
To sum the whole-the close of all.

He that has these, may pass his life,
Drink with the squire, and kiss his wife;
On Sundays preach, and eat his fill;
And fast on Fridays—if he will;

Toast Church and Queen, explain the news,
Talk with churchwardens about pews,
Pray heartily for some new gift,

And shake his head at Doctor St.

THE TEMPLE OF FAME.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXI.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The hint of the following piece was taken from Chaucer's 'House of Fame.' The design is in a manner entirely altered, the descriptions and most of the particular thoughts my own: yet I could not suffer it to be printed without this acknowledgment. The reader who would compare this with Chaucer, may begin with his third book of Fame,' there being nothing in the two first books that answers to their title. Wherever any hint is taken from him, the passage itself is set down in the marginal notes.

IN that soft season, when descending showers
Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flowers;
When opening buds salute the welcome day,
And earth relenting feels the genial ray;
As balmy sleep had charm'd my cares to rest,
And love itself was banish'd from my breast,
(What time the morn mysterious visions brings,
While purer slumbers spread their golden wings),
A train of phantoms in wild order rose,
And, join'd, this intellectual scene compose.

I stood, methought, betwixt earth, seas, and skies; The whole creation open to my eyes:

10