Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

That Cafting-weight pride adds to emptiness,
This, who can gratify? for who can guess?
The Bard whom pilfer'd Paftorals renown,
Who turns a Perfian tale for half a Crown,
Juft writes to make his barrenness appear,

180

And strains from hard-bound brains, eight lines a year;
He, who ftill wanting, tho' he lives on theft,
Steals much, fpends little, yet has nothing left: 184
And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning,
Means not, but blunders round about a meaning:
And He, whose fuftian's fo fublimely bad,

It is not Poetry, but profe run mad:

All these, my modeft Satire bad translate,

And own'd that nine fuch Poets made a Tate.

[ocr errors]

How did they fume, and stamp, and roar, and chafe! And fwear, not ADDISON himself was safe.

NOTES.

VER. 180.-a Perfian tale.] Amb. Philips tranflated a Book called the Perfian tales. P.

VER. 184. Steals much, Spends little, and has nothing left:] A fine improvement of this line of Boileau,

Qui toujours emprunt, et jamais ne gagne rien.

VER. 186. Means not, but blunders round about a meaning:] A cafe common both to Poets and Critics of a certain order; only with this difference, that the Poet writes himfelf out of his own meaning; and the Critic never gets into another man's. Yet both keep going on, and blundering round about their fubject, as benighted people are wont to do, who seek for an entrance which they cannot find.

Peace to all fuch! but were there One whofe fires True Genius kindles, and fair Fame inspires;

Bleft with each talent and each art to please,

And born to write, converfe, and live with ease :
Should fuch a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne,
View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes,
And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise;
Damn with faint praise, afsent with civil leer,
And without fneering, teach the reft to fneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Juft hint a fault, and hesitate diflike;
Alike referv'd to blame, or to commend,
A tim❜rous foe, and a fufpicious friend;
Dreading ev'n fools, by Flatterers befieg'd,
And fo obliging, that he ne'er oblig'd;
NOTES.

195.

200

205

VER.193. But were there one whose fires, &c.] The strokes in this Character are highly finished. Atterbury fo well understood the force of them, that in one of his letters to Mr. Pope he fays, "Since you now know where your ftrength lies, I hope you will not fuffer that talent to "lie unemployed." He did not; and, by that means, brought fatiric Poetry to its perfection.

[ocr errors]

VARIATIONS.

After 208. in the MS.

Who, if two Wits on rival themes conteft,
Approves of each, but likes the worst the beft.

Alluding to Mr. P.'s and Tickell's Tranflation of the firft Book of the Iliad.

*C

Like Cato, give his little Senate laws,

And fit attentive to his own applause;

While Wits and Templars ev'ry fentence raise,
And wonder with a foolish face of praise-
Who but must laugh, if fuch a man there be?
Who would not weep, if ATTICUS were he!
What tho' my Name stood rubric on the walls,
Or plaifter'd pofts, with claps, in capitals?
Or fmoaking forth, a hundred hawkers load,
On wings of winds came flying all abroad?
I fought no homage from the Race that write;
I kept, like Afian Monarchs, from their fight:
Poems I heeded (now be-rym'd fo long)

210

216

220

No more than thou, great GEORGE! a birth-day fong, I ne'er with wits or witlings pafs'd my days,

To fpread about the itch of verfe and praise;

NOTES.

VER.214. ATTICUS] It was a great falfhood, which some of the Libels reported, that this Character was written after the Gentleman's death; which fee refuted in the Teftimonies prefixed to the Dunciad. But the occafion of writing it was fuch as he would not make public out of regard to his memory and all that could further be done was to omit the name, in the Edition of his Works.

P.

VER. 216. claps, in capitals?] The bills of QuackDoctors and Quack Bookfellers being usually pasted together on the fame pofts.

VER. 218. On wings of winds came flying all abroad?] Hopkins, in the ciyth Pfalm.

P.

Nor like a puppy, daggled thro' the town,

To fetch and carry fing-fong up and down;

225

Nor at Rehearsals fweat, and mouth'd, and cry'd,

With handkerchief and orange at my fide;

230

But fick of fops, and poetry, and prate,
To Bufo left the whole Caftalian ftate.
Proud as Apollo on his forked hill,
Sate full-blown Bufo, puff'd by ev'ry quill;
Fed with foft Dedication all day long,
Horace and he went hand in hand in song.
His Library (where bufts of Poets dead
And a true Pindar stood without a head)
Receiv'd of wits an undistinguish'd race,
Who firft his judgment ask'd, and then a place :
Much they extoll'd his pictures, much his seat,
And flatter'd ev'ry day, and some days eat:
Till grown more frugal in his riper days,

235

240

He paid fome bards with port, and fome with praise, To fome a dry rehearsal was affign'd,

And others (harder still) he paid in kind.

VARIATIONS.

After 234. in the MS.

To Bards reciting he vouchfaf'd a nod,

And snuff'd their incenfe like a gracious god.

NOTES.

VER. 236.-a true Pindar food without a head] Ridicules the affectation of Antiquaries, who frequently exhibit the headlefs Trunks and Terms of Statues, for Plato, Homer, Pindar, &c. Vide Fulv. Urfin. &c.

P.

Dryden alone (what wonder?) came not nigh, 245 Dryden alone efcap'd this judging eye:

But ftill the Great have kindness in reserve,

He help'd to bury whom he help'd to ftarve.

250

May fome choice patron bless each gray goofe quill! May ev'ry Bavius have his Bufo ftill! So when a Statesman wants a day's defence, Or Envy holds a whole week's war with Sense, Or fimple pride for flatt'ry inakes demands, May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands! Bleft be the Great! for thofe they take away, And those they left me; for they left me GAY;

Neglected die, and tell it on his tomb:

255

Left me to fee neglected Genius bloom,

Of all thy blameless life the fole return

259

My Verfe, and QUEENSB'RY weeping o'er thy urn!

Oh let me live my own, and die fo too!

(To live and die is all I have to do :)

Maintain a Poet's dignity and ease,

And fee what friends, and read what books I please: Above a Patron, tho' I condefcend

Sometimes to call a Minifter my friend.

NOTES.

265

VER. 248. help'd to bury] Mr. Dryden, after having liv'd in exigencies, had a magnificent Funeral beftow'd upon him by the contribution of feveral perfons of Quality. P.

VER. 265-tho' I condefcend &c.] He thought it, and he justly thought it, a condefcenfion in an boneft Man to accept the friendship of any one, how high foever, whofe

« ZurückWeiter »