Page images
PDF
EPUB

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*,

toils?

your have learn'd to sing

sons

Why all
your
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.556
What cannot copious sacrifice atone?
Thy truffles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne!
With French libation, and Italian strain,
Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain. 560
Knight lifts the head; for what are crowds undone,

REMARKS.

556 Seve and verdeur] French terms relating to wines, which signify their flavour and poignancy.

560-Bladen-Hays] Names of gamesters. Bladen is 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. Colonel Martin Bladen (uncle of Collins the poet) was a man of some literature, and translated Cæsar's Commentaries.

To three essential partridges in one?

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 Shakespeare at the Inns of Court,
Impale a glowworm, 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.

6

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!)

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,)608 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 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; [wrongTill 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, 637

IMITATIONS.

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.]

VIRG.

Et quamvis sopor est oculorum parte receptus,
Parte tamen vigilat

-Vidit Cyllenius omnes
Succubuisse oculos,' &c.

OVID. MET. II

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 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.

« PreviousContinue »