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Let B*rr*t'n arreft him in mock fury,
Be these the rural-pastimes that attend 13:5 Great B*nsw*k's leisure : these mall bot unbend His royal mind, whene'er from state withdrawn, He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn ; These shall prolong his Afiatic dream, Tho' Europe's balance trembles on its beam. 140 And thou, Sir William ! while thy plastic hand Creates each wonder, which thy bard has plann'd, While, as thy art commands, obsequious rise Whate'er can please, or frighten, or surprize, O! let the Bard his Knight's protection claim, 145 And Mare, like faithful Sancho, Quixote's fame.
Verse 127. Let B**n.] “ The watch seizes on the culpric,"
Verse 128. And M**d, &c.] “ He is conveyed before the judge, and sometimes severely bastinadoed.” Ibid.
Verse 129, But hark, &c.] " Quarrels harpen-battles ensue,” lbid.
Verse 132. Circumcise C*s F*] “ Every liberty is permitted, there is no diftinction of pe fons.” Ibid.
Verse 134. And all the maids of honour, &c.] “ This is done to divert his Imperial Majefly, and the ladics his train," Ibid.
AN HEROIC POSTSCRIPT TO THE PUBLIC, OCCA
SIONED BY THEIR FAVOURABLE RECEPTION OF A LATE HEROIC EPISTLE TO SIR'WILLIAM CHAMDERS, KNT, &c. BY THE AUTHOR OF THAT
Sicelides musa, paullo majora canamus. VIRG.
I THAT of late, Sir William's Bard, and Squire, March'd with his helm and buckler on my lyre, (What time the Kniglit prick'd forth in ill-starr'd
haste, Comptroller General of the works of taste), Now to the public tune my grateful lays,
5 Warm'd with the sun-fhine of the Public praise : Warm's too with mem'ry of that golden time, When Almon gave me reason for iny rhyme ;
glittering orbs, and, what endear'd them more, Each glittering orb the sacred features bore Of George the good, the gracious, and the great, Unfil'd, upsweated, all of sterling weight;
Verse 1. I that of late.]
VIRGIL, or somebody for him. Verse 4. Works of taste.] Put fynonimously for his Majesty's works. See Sir William's title page.
Or, were they not, they pass’d with current ease,
full ear'd load in Almon's shop. For now, my Muse, thy fame is fixt as fate, Tremble, ye Fools I scorn, ye Knaves I hate ; 30 I know the vigour of thy eagle wings, I know thy strains can pierce the ear of Kings. Did China's monarch here in Britain doze, And was, like western Kings, a King of Prose,
Verse 16. Cadogan's part.] Master of the Mint.
Verse 19. And find him wanting.] Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting. Daniel, chap. 8. v. 27. Verse 34. A King of Profe.] Kien-Long, the present
Thy fong could cure his Afiatic spleen,
35 And make him wish to see and to be seen ; That folemn vein of irony fo fine, Which, e'en Reviewers own, adorns thy line, Would make him soon against his greatness fin, Desert his fofa, mount his palanquin,
40 And post where'er the goddess led the way, Perchance to proud Spithead's imperial bay ; There should he see, as other folks have seen, That ships have anchors, and that seas are green, Should own the tackling trim, the streamers fine, 45 With Sandwich prattle, and with Bradshaw dine,
Emperor of China is a poet. M. de Voltaire did him the honour
treat him as a brother above two years ago ; and my late patron, Sir William Chambers, has given a fine and most intelligible prose version of an ode of his Majesty upon tea, in his pofte fcript to his Differtation. I am, however, vain enough to think, that the Emperor's composition would have appeared till better in my heroic verse; but Sir William forestalled it ; on which account I have entirely broke with him.
Verse 37. That solemn vein of irony.) « A fine vein of solemn irony runs through this piece. See Monthly Review, under the article of the Heroic Epiftle to Sir William Chambers.
Verse 43. There should he fee.] A certain naval eveæt happened just about two calendar months after the publication of the Heroic Epifle. 'Twas impossible, considering the necessary preparations, it could have been sooner. Facts are stubborn things.
And then sail back, amid the cannon's roar,
Such is thy pow'r, O Goddess of the song,
Verse 52. Nor like Mac-Homer. J See, if the reader thinks it worth while, a late translation of the Iliad.
Verse 62.. Like old young Fannius.] The noble personage here alluded to, being asked to read the Heroic Epiftle, said," No, it was as bad as blasphemy.”
Ibid. Fannius.] Before I sent the MS to the press, I discovered, that an accidental blot had made all but the first syllable of this name illegible. I was doubtful, therefore, whether to print it Fannius or Fannia. After much deliberation, I thought it best to use the masculine termination. If I have done wrong, I ask pardon, not only of the Author, but the Lady,