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How wouldst thou shake at Britain's modifh Tribe, Dart the quick Taunt, and edge the piercing Gibe? Attentive Truth and Nature to decry,

And pierce each Scene with philofophic Eye. To thee were folemn Toys or empty Shew, The Robes of Pleasure and the Veils of Woe: All aid the Farce, and all thy Mirth maintain, Whofe Joys are causeless, or whofe Griefs are vain. Such was the Scorn that fill'd the Sage's Mind, Renew'd at ev'ry Glance on human Kind; How juft that Scorn ere yet thy Voice declare, Search every State, and canvafs ev'ry Prayer. [Gate, (e) Unnumber'd Suppliants crowd Preferment's Athirst for Wealth, and burning to be Great ; Delufive Fortune hears th' inceflant Call, They mount, they fhine, evaporate, and fall. On ev'ry Stage the Foes of Peace attend, Hate dogs their Flight, and Infult mocks their End. Love ends with Hope, the finking Statesman's Door Pours in the morning Worshipper no more; For growing Names the weekly Scribbler lies, To growing Wealth the Dedicator flies, From ev'ry Room defcends the painted Face, That hung the bright Palladium of the Place, And fmoak'd in Kitchens, or in Auctions fold, To better Features yields the Frame of Gold; For now no more we trace in ev'ry Line Heroic worth, Benevolence divine: The Form diftorted juftifies the Fall, And Deteftation rids th' indignant Wall.

But will not Britain hear the last Appeal, Sign her Foes doom, or guard her Fav'rites Zeal; Thro' Freedom's Sons no more Remonftrance rings, Degrading Nobles and controuling Kings; Our fupple Tribes reprefs their Patriot Throats, And afk no Questions but the Price of Votes;

(e) Ver. 56-107.

With weekly Libels and feptennial Ale,
Their With is full to Riot and to Rail.

In full-blown Dignity, fee Wolfey ftand,
Law in his Voice, and Fortune in his Hand:
To him the Church, the Realm, their Pow'rs consign,
Thro' him the Rays of regal Bounty fhine,
Still to new Heights his reftlefs Wishes tow'r,
Claim leads to Claim, and Pow'r advances Pów'r ;
Till Conqueft unrefifted ceas'd to please,
And Rights fubmitted left him none to seize.
At length his Sov'reign frowns--the Train of State
Mark the keen Glance, and watch the Sign to hate.
Where-e'er he turns he meets a Stranger's Eye,
His Suppliants scorn him, and his Followers fly;
At once is loft the Pride of awful State,
The golden Canopy, the glitt'ring Plate,
The regal Palace, the luxurious Board,
The liv'ried Army, and the menial Lord.
With Age, with Cares, with Maladies opprefs'd,
He feeks the Refuge of monastic Reft.

Grief aids Difeafe, remember'd Folly ftings,
And his laft Sighs reproach the Faith of Kings.
Speak thou, whofe Thoughts at humble Peace re-

pine,

Shall Wolfey's Wealth, with Wolfey's End be thine?
Or liv'ft thou now, with fafer Pride content,
The wifeft Juftice on the Banks of Trent?
For why did Wolfey near the Steeps of Fate,
On weak Foundations raife th' enormous Weight?
Why but to fink beneath Misfortune's Blow,
With louder Ruin to the Gulphs below?

What (f) gave great Villiers to th'Affaffin's Knife,
And fix'd Difeafe on Harley's clofing Life?
What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde?
By Kings protected, and to Kings ally'd?
What but their With indulg'd in Courts to fhine,
And Pow'r too great to keep, or to refign?

(f) Ver. 108-213.

When

When (g) first the College-rolls receive his Name, The young Enthufiaft quits his Ease for Fame; Through all his Veins the Fever of Renown Spreads from the ftrong Contagion of the Gown ; O'er Bodley's Dome his future Labours fpread, And Bacon's Manfion trembles o'er his Head. Are these thy Views? proceed, illuftrious Youth, And Virtue guard thee to the Throne of Truth! Yet fhould thy Soul indulge the gen'rous Heat, Till captive Science yields her last Retreat ; Should Reafon guide thee with her brightest Ray, And pour on mifty Doubt refiftlefs Day; Should no falfe Kindness lure to loose Delight, Nor Praise relax, nor Difficulty fright; Should tempting Novelty thy Cell refrain, And Sloth effufe her opiate Fumes in vain Should Beauty blunt on Fops her fatal Dart, Nor claim the Triumph of a letter'd Heart; Should no Difeafe thy torpid Veins invade, Nor Melancholy's Phantoms haunt thy Shade; Yet hope not Life from Grief or Danger free, Nor think the Doom of Man revers'd for thee: Deign on the palling World to turn thine Eyes, And paufe awhile from Letters, to be wife; There mark what Ills the Scholar's Life affail, Toil, Envy, Want, the Patron, and the Jail. See Nations flowly wife, and meanly just, To buried Merit raife the tardy Buft. If Dreams yet flatter, once again attend, Hear Lydiar's Life, and Galileo's End.

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Nor deem, when Learning her latt Prize beftows, The glitt'ring Eminence exempt from Woes; See when the Vulgar 'fcape, defpis'd or aw'd, Rebellion's vengeful Talons feize on Laud. (2) Ver. 114-132.

There is a Tradition, that the Study of Friar Bacon, built on an Arch over the Bridge, will fall, when a Man greater than Bacon shall pafs under it.

From

From meaner Minds, tho' fmaller Fines content
The plunder'd Palace, or fequefter'd Rent;
Mark'd out by dangerous Parts he meets the Shock,
And fatal Learning leads him to the Block:
Around his Tomb let Art and Genius weep,
But hear his Death, ye Blockheads, hear and fleep.
The (i) feftal Blazes, the triumphal Show,
The ravish'd Standard, and the captive Foe,
The Senate's Thanks, the Gazette's pompous Tale,
With Force refiftlefs o'er the Brave prevail.
Such Bribes the rapid Greek o'er Afia whirl'd,
For fuch the steady Romans fhook the World;
For fuch in diftant Lands the Britons fhine,
And ftain with Blood the Danube or the Rhine;
This Pow'r has Praise, that Virtue fcarce can warm,
Till Fame fupplies the univerfal Charm.
Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal Game,
Where wafted Nations raife a fingle Name,
And mortgag'd States their Grandfires Wreaths re-
gret,

From Age to Age in everlafting Debt,

Wreaths which at last the dear-bought Right convey
To ruft on Medals, or on Stones decay.

On (k) what Foundation ftands the Warrior's
Pride,

How juft his Hopes let Swedish Charles decide;
A Frame of Adamant, a Soul of Fire,

No Dangers fright him, and no Labours tire;
O'er Love, o'er Fear extends his wide Domain,
Unconquer'd Lord of Pleasure and of Pain;
No Joys to him pacific Scepters yield,

War founds the Trump, he rushes to the Field;
Behold furrounding Kings their Pow'r combine,
And one capitulate, and one resign;

Peace courts his Hand, but (preads her Charms in vain ;
Think nothing gain'd, he cries, till Nought remain,

(i) Ver. 133-146.

(k) Ver. 147-167.

On

On Moscow's Walls till Gothick Standards fly,
And all be mine beneath the polar Sky.'
The March begins in military State,
And Nations on his Eye fufpended wait;
Stern Famine guards the folitary Coast,
And Winter barricades the Realm of Froft;
He comes, not Want and Cold his Course delay ;-
Hide, blufhing Glory, hide Pultowa's Day:
The vanquish'd Hero, leaves his broken Bands,
And fhews his Miferies in diftant Lands
Condemn'd a needy Supplicant to wait,
While Ladies interpofe, and Slaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her Error mend?
Did no fubverted Empire mark his End?
Did rival Monarchs give the fatal Wound?
Or hoftile Millions prefs him to the Ground?
His Fall was destin'd to a barren Strand,
A petty Fortress, and a dubious Hand;

;

He left the Name, at which the World grew pale, To point a Moral, or adorn a Tale.

All (1) Times their Scenes of pompous Woes afford,

From Perfia's Tyrant, to Bavaria's Lord.
In gay Hoftility, and barb'rous Pride,
With half Mankind embattled at his Side,
Great Xerxes comes to feize the certain Prey,
And ftarves exhaufted Regions in his Way;
Attendant Flatt'ry counts his Myriads o'er,
Till counted Myriads footh his Pride no more;
Fresh Praise is try'd till Madness fires his Mind,
The Waves he lathes, and enchains the Wind;
New Pow'rs are claim'd, new Pow'rs are ftill bestow'd,
Till rude Resistance lops the fpreading God;
The daring Greek derides the martial Show,
And heaps their Vallies with the gaudy Foe;

(1) Ver. 168-187.

Th

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