The proudest kings fubmit to Beauty's fway;
Beauty itself, a greater prince than they,
Lies fometimes languishing, with all its pride, 140
By a belov'd tho' fickle lover's fide. -
I mean to flight the foft enchanting charm,
But, oh! my head and heart are both too warm.
I dote on woman-kind with all their faults;
Love turns my fatire into softest thoughts:
Of all that paffion which our peace defiroys,
Instead of mischiefs I defcribe the joys.
But short will be his reign, (I fear too short)
And prefent cares fhall be my future fport.
Then Love's bright torch put out, his arrows broke, Loofe from kind chains, and from th' engaging yoke, To all fond thoughts I'll fing such counter-charms, The fair fhall liften in their lovers' arms.
Now the enthufiaftic fit is spent,
I feel my weakness, and too late repent.
As they who walk in dreams oft' climb too high
For fenfe to follow with a waking eye,
And in fuch wild attempts are blindly bold,
Which afterwards they tremble to behold;
So I review thefe fallies of my pen,
And modeft reafon is return'd again;
My confidence I curfe, my fate accufe,
Scarce hold from cenfuring the facred Mufc.
No wretched poet of the railing pit,
No critic curs'd with the wrong fide of wit,
Is more fevere from ignorance and fpite,
Than I with judgment against all I write.
THE MIRACLE, 1707.
MERIT they hate, and wit they flight;
They neither act nor reason right,
And nothing mind but pence.
Unfkilful they victorious are,
Conduct a kingdom without care,
A council without fenfe.
So Mofes once, and Joshua,
And that virago Debora,
Beftrid poor Ifrael:
Like reverence pay to thefe; for who
Could ride a nation as they do
Without a Miracle?
A POET-LAUREAT, 1719.
A FAMOUS affembly was fummon'd of late;
To crown a new Laureat came Phoebus in state,
With all that Montfaucon himself could defire,
His bow, laurel, harp, and abundance of fire.
At Bartlemew-fair ne'er did bullies fo juftle,
No country election e'er made fuch a bustle;
From garret, mint, tavern, they all poft away,
Some thirfling for fack, fome ambitious of hay.
All came with full confidence, flush'd with vain hope, From Cibber and Durfey to Prior and Pope; Phoebus fmil'd on thefe laft, but yet ne'ertheless, Said he hop'd they had got enough by the prefs.
With a huge mountain-load of heroical lumber, [der, WhichfromTonfon to Curll everyprefshadgroan'dunCame Blackmore, and ery'd, "Look! all these are my "But at prefent beg you'd but read my Effays." [lays,
Lampooners andorities rufh'd in like a tide,
Stern Dennis and Gildon came first fide by fide;
Apollo confefs'd that their lashes had ftings,
But beadles and hangmen were never chofe kings. 20-
Steele long had fo cunningly manag'd the Town,
He could not be blam'd for expecting the crown;
Apollo demurr'd as to granting his wifh,
But with him good luck in his project of fish.
Lamé Congreve, unable fuch things to endure, 25"
Of Apolle begg'd either a crown or a cure;'
To refufefuch a writer Apollo was loth,
And almot inclin'd to have granted him both.
When Bakingham came, he fcarce car'd to be seen,
Till Phœus defir'd his old friend to walk in;
But a Laureat peer had never been known;
'The commoners claim'd that place as their own.
Yet if the kind god had been ne'er fo inclin'd
To break an old rule, yet he well knew his mind,
Who of fuch preferment would only make sport, 35
And laugh'd at all fuitors for places at court.
Notwithstanding this law, yet Lanfdowne was nam'd,
But Apollo with kindness his indolence blam'd,
And faid he would chufe him, but that he should fear
An employment of trouble he never could bear. 40
A prelate for wit and for eloquence fam'd,
Apollo foon mifs'd, and he needs not be nam'd,
Since amidst a whole bench, of whichfome arefobright,
No one of them fhines so learn'd and polite.
To Shippen Apollo was cold with respect,
Since he for the state could the Mufes neglect;
But faid in a greater affembly he shin'd,
And places were things he had ever declin'.
Trapp, Young, and Vanbrugh, expected reward,
For fome things writ well; but Apollo declur'd
That one was too flat, the other too rough.
And the third fure already had places enough.
Pert Budgell came next, and, demanding the bays, Said those works must be good which had addison's But Apollo reply'd, Child Eustace,'t is known [praise; Most authors will praise whatsoever 's theirown. 56. * Dr. Atterbury, Bishop of Rochefter.
Then Philips came forth, as starch as a Quaker,
Whose simple profeffion's a Paftoral-maker;
Apollo advis'd him from playhouse to keep,
And pipe to nought else but his dog and his sheep. 60
Hughes, Fenton, and Gay, came last in the train, Too modeft to afk for the crown they would gain; Phobus thought them too bafhful, and faid they would More boldness, if ever they hop'd to fucceed. [need
Apollo, now driven to a curfed quandary,
Was wishing for Swift, or the fam'd Lady Mary; Nay,had honeft Tom Southerne but been within call-But at last he grew wanton, and laugh'd at them all:
And fo fpying one who came only to gaze,
A hater of verfe, and defpifer of plays,
To him in great form, without any delay,
(Tho' a zealous fanatic) prefented the bay.
All the wits ftood astonish'd at hearing the god
So gravely pronounce an election fo odd;
And tho' Prior and Pope only laugh'd in his face,
Moft others were ready to fink in the place.
Yet fome thought the vacancy open was kept,
Concluding the bigot would never accept;
But the hypocrite told them he well understood, 79 Tho' the function was wicked the ftipend was good.
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