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 freemasons, 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 subtle line;
The judge to dance his brother sergeant call;
The senator at cricket urge the ball:

The bishop, stow (pontific luxury !)
A hundred souls of turkeys in a pie;
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 What mortal can resist the yawn of gods? [nods; Churches and chapels instantly it reach'd (St. James's first, for leaden Gilbert 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;
E'en 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.

REMARKS.

608

608 Gilbert Dr. Gilbert, Archbishop of York, who had attacked Dr. King of Oxford, whom Pope much respected.

O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone, Wits have short memories, and dunces none), Relate who first, who last, resign'd to rest; 621 Whose heads she partly, whose completely blest, What charms could faction, what ambition lull, The venal quiet, and intrance the dull, [wrong; 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 power.

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 th' ethereal plain;
As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest,
Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest;

IMITATIONS.

637

621 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?'

637 As Argus' eyes,' &c.]

'Et quamvis sopor est oculorum parte receptus,

Parte tamen vigilat

-Vidit Cyllenius omnes

Succubuisse oculos,' &c.

VIRG.

OVID. MET. I.

Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
Art after Art goes out, and all is night.
See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled,
Mountains of casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Philosophy, that lean'd on Heaven 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;
Nor 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.

INDEX OF PERSONS AND MATTERS

CELEBRATED IN THIS POEM AND NOTES.

The Numerals show the Book.-The Figures the Verse.