^{[R 14]} ​There foam'd rebellious Logic, gagg'd and bound,
There, stript, fair Rhet'ric languish'd on the ground;
25 His blunted Arms by Sophisory are born,
And shameless Billingsgate her Robes adorn.
Morality, by her false Guardians drawn,^{[R 15]}
Chicane in Furs, and Casuistry in Lawn,
Gasps, as they straiten at each end the cord,
30 And dies, when Dulness gives her Page the word.^{[R 16]}
Mad Mathesis,^{[R 17]} alone was unconfin'd,
Too mad for mere material chains to bind,

^{[R 18]} ​Now to pure Space^{[R 19]} lifts her extatic stare,
Now running round the Circle, finds it square.^{[R 20]}
35 But held in ten-fold bonds the Muses lie,
Watch'd both by Envy's and by Flatt'ry's eye:^{[R 21]}
There to her heart sad Tragedy addrest
The dagger wont to pierce the Tyrant's breast;
But sober History^{[R 22]} restrain'd her rage,
40 And promis'd Vengeance on a barb'rous age.
There sunk Thalia, nerveless, cold, and dead,
Had not her Sister Satyr held her head:
​Nor cou'd'st thou, Chesterfield! a tear refuse,^{[R 23]}
Thou wept'st, and with thee wept each gentle Muse.
45 ⁠When lo! a Harlot form soft sliding by,^{[R 24]}
With mincing step, small voice, and languid eye;
Foreign her air, her robe's discordant pride
In patch-work flutt'ring, and her head aside:
By singing Peers up-held on either hand,
50 She tripp'd and laugh'd, too pretty much to stand;
Cast on the prostrate Nine a scornful look,
Then thus in quaint Recitativo spoke.
 O Cara! Cara! silence all that train:
Joy to great Chaos! let Division reign:^{[R 25]}
​55 Chromatic tortures soon shall drive them hence,^{[R 26]}
Break all their nerves, and fritter all their sense:
One Trill shall harmonize joy, grief, and rage,
Wake the dull Church, and lull the ranting Stage;
To the same notes thy sons shall hum, or snore,
60 And all thy yawning daughters cry, encore.
Another Phœbus, thy own Phœbus, reigns,^{[R 27]}
Joys in my jiggs, and dances in my chains.
But soon, ah soon Rebellion will commence,
If Music meanly borrows aid from Sense:
65 Strong in new Arms, lo! Giant Handel stands,
Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands;
To stir, to rouze, to shake the Soul he comes,
And Jove's own Thunders follow Mars's Drums.
​Arrest him, Empress; or you sleep no more—
70 She heard, and drove him to th' Hibernian shore.
 And now had Fame's posterior Trumpet^{[R 28]} blown,
And all the Nations summon'd to the Throne.
The young, the old, who feel her inward sway,
One instinct seizes, and transports away.
75 None need a guide,^{[R 29]} by sure Attraction led,
And strong impulsive gravity of Head:^{[R 30]}
None want a place, for all their Centre found,
Hung to the Goddess, and coher'd around.
​Not closer, orb in orb, conglob'd are seen
80 The buzzing Bees about their dusky Queen.
 The gath'ring number, as it moves along,
Involves a vast involuntary throng,
Who gently drawn, and struggling less and less,
Roll in her Vortex, and her pow'r confess.
85 Not those alone who passive own her laws,
But who, weak rebels, more advance her cause.
Whate'er of dunce in College or in Town
Sneers at another, in toupee or gown;
Whate'er of mungril no one class admits,
90 A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
 Nor absent they, no members of her state,
Who pay her homage in her sons, the Great;
Who false to Phœbus,^{[R 31]} bow the knee to Baal;
Or impious, preach his Word without a call.
​95 Patrons, who sneak from living worth to dead,
With-hold the pension, and set up the head;
Or vest dull Flatt'ry in the sacred Gown;
Or give from fool to fool the Laurel crown.
And (last and worst) with all the cant of wit,
100 Without the soul, the Muse's Hypocrit.^{[R 32]}
 There march'd the bard and blockhead, side by side,
Who rhym'd for hire, and patroniz'd for pride.
Narcissus, prais'd with all a Parson's pow'r,
Look'd a white lilly sunk beneath a show'r
105 There mov'd Montalto with superior air;
His stretch'd-out arm display'd a Volume fair;
Courtiers and Patriots in two ranks divide,
Thro' both he pass'd, and bow'd from side to side:
But as in graceful act, with awful eye
110 Compos'd he stood, bold Benson^{[R 33]} thrust him by:
On two unequal crutches propt he came,
Milton's on this, on that one Johnston's name.
​The decent Knight retir'd with sober rage,
Withdrew his hand, and clos'd the pompous page.
*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*
*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*
*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*
*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*
 When Dulness, smiling—"Thus revive the Wits!^{[R 34]}
120 But murder first, and mince them all to bits;
As erst Medea (cruel, so to save!)
A new Edition of old Æson^{[R 35]} gave,
Let standard-Authors, thus, like trophies born,
Appear more glorious as more hack'd and torn,
125 And you, my Critics! in the chequer'd shade,
Admire new light thro' holes yourselves have made.
Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone,
A Page, a Grave,^{[R 36][R 37]} that they can call their own;

^{[R 38]} ​But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick,
130 On passive paper, or on solid brick.
So by each Bard an Alderman shall sit,^{[R 39]}
A heavy Lord shall hang at ev'ry Wit,
And while on Fame's triumphal Car they ride,
Some Slave of mine be pinion'd to their side.
135 ⁠Now crowds on crowds around the Goddess press,
Each eager to present the first Address.
Dunce scorning Dunce beholds the next advance,
But Fop shews Fop superior complaisance.^{[R 40]}
When lo! a Spectre rose, whose index-hand
140 Held forth the Virtue of the dreadful wand;^{[R 41]}
His beaver'd brow a birchen garland wears,
Dropping with Infant's blood, and Mother's tears.
O'er ev'ry vein a shudd'ring horror runs;
Eton and Winton shake thro' all their Sons.
​145 All Flesh is humbled, Westminster's bold race
Shrink, and confess the Genius of the place:
The pale Boy-Senator yet tingling stands,
And holds his breeches^{[R 42]} close with both his hands.
 Then thus. Since Man from beast by Words is known,
150 Words are Man's province, Words we teach alone.
When Reason doubtful, like the Samian letter,^{[R 43]}
Points him two ways, the narrower is the better.
Plac'd at the door of Learning, youth to guide,^{[R 44]}
We never suffer it to stand too wide.
155 To ask, to guess, to know, as they commence,
As Fancy opens the quick springs of Sense,
We ply the Memory, we load the brain,
Bind rebel Wit, and double chain on chain,
​Confine the thought, to exercise the breath;^{[R 45]}
160 And keep them in the pale of Words till death.
Whate'er the talents, or howe'er design'd,
We hang one jingling padlock on the mind:^{[R 46]}
A Poet the first day, he dips his quill;
And what the last? a very Poet still.
165 Pity! the charm works only in our wall,
Lost, lost too soon in yonder House or Hall.^{[R 47]}
There truant Wyndham ev'ry Muse gave o'er,
There Talbot sunk, and was a Wit no more!
How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast!
170 How many Martials were in Pult'ney lost!
Else sure some Bard, to our eternal praise,
In twice ten thousand rhyming nights and days,
Had reach'd the Work, the All that mortal can;
And South beheld that Master-piece of Man.^{[R 48]}
175 ⁠Oh (cry'd the Goddess) for some pedant Reign!^{[R 49]}
Some gentle James, to bless the land again;
​To stick the Doctor's Chair into the Throne,
Give law to Words, or war with Words alone,
Senates and Courts with Greek and Latin rule,
180 And turn the Council to a Grammar School!

^{[R 50]} ​For sure, if Dulness sees a grateful Day,
'Tis in the shade of Arbitrary Sway.^{[R 51]}
O! if my sons may learn one earthly thing,
Teach but that one, sufficient for a King;
185 That which my Priests, and mine alone, maintain,
Which as it dies, or lives, we fill, or reign:
May you, may Cam, and Isis preach it long!
"The Right Divine of Kings to govern wrong."
​ Prompt at the call, around the Goddess roll
190 Broad hats, and hoods, and caps, a sable shoal:
Thick and more thick the black blockade extends,
A hundred head of Aristotle's friends.^{[R 52][R 53]}
Nor wert thou, Isis! wanting to the day,
[Tho' Christ-church^{[R 54]} long kept prudishly away.]
​195 Each staunch Polemic, stubborn as a rock,
Each fierce Logician, still expelling Locke,^{[R 55]}
Came whip and spur, and dash'd thro' thin and thick
On German Crouzaz, and Dutch Burgersdyck.^{[R 56]}
As many quit the streams^{[R 57]} that murm'ring fall
200 To lull the sons of Marg'ret and Clare-hall,
Where Bentley late tempestuous wont to sport
In troubled waters, but now sleeps in Port.^{[R 58]}
Before them march'd that awful Aristarch;
Plow'd was his front with many a deep Remark:
205 His Hat, which never vail'd to human pride,^{[R 59]}
Walker with rev'rence took, and lay'd aside.
​Low bow'd the rest: He, kingly, did but nod;^{[I 1]}
So upright Quakers please both Man and God.
Mistress! dismiss that rabble from your throne:
210 Avaunt———is Aristarchus^{[R 60]} yet unknown?^{[I 2]}
Thy mighty Scholiast, whose unweary'd pains
Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains.
Turn what they will to Verse, their toil is vain,
Critics like me shall make it Prose again.
215 Roman and Greek Grammarians! know your Better:^{[I 3]}
Author of something yet more great than Letter;
While tow'ring o'er your Alphabet, like Saul,
Stands our Digamma, and o'er-tops them all.^{[R 61]}
​'Tis true, on Words is still our whole debate,
220 Disputes of Me or Te,^{[R 62]} of aut or at,
To sound or sink in cano, O or A,
Or give up Cicero to C or K.^{[R 63]}
Let Freind affect to speak as Terence spoke,
And Alsop never but like Horace joke:^{[R 64]}
225 For me, what Virgil, Pliny may deny,
Manilius or Solinus^{[R 65]} shall supply:
For Attic Phrase in Plato let them seek,
I poach in Suidas for unlicens'd Greek.^{[R 66]}
In ancient Sense if any needs will deal,
230 Be sure I give them Fragments, not a Meal;
What Gellius or Stobæus hash'd before,
Or chew'd by blind old Scholiasts o'er and o'er.
​The critic Eye, that microscope of Wit,
Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit:
235 How parts relate to parts, or they to whole,
The body's harmony, the beaming soul,
Are things which Kuster, Burman, Wasse shall see,
When Man's whole frame is obvious to a Flea.
 Ah, think not, Mistress! more true Dulness lies
240 In Folly's Cap, than Wisdom's grave disguise.^{[R 67]}
Like buoys, that never sink into the flood,
On Learning's surface we but lie and nod.^{[R 68]}
Thine is the genuine head of many a house,
And much Divinity without a Νοῦς.

^{[R 69]} ​245 Nor could a Barrow work on ev'ry block,
Nor has one Atterbury spoil'd the flock.^{[R 70]}
See! still thy own, the heavy Canon^{[R 71]} roll,
And Metaphysic smokes involve the Pole.^{[R 72]}

^{[R 73]} ἳ ​For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head
250 With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, Goddess, and about it:
So spins the silk-worm small its slender store,
And labours till it clouds itself all o'er.
255 ⁠What tho' we let some better sort of fool^{[R 74]}
Thrid ev'ry science, run thro' ev'ry school?
Never by tumbler thro' the hoops was shown
Such skill in passing all, and touching none.
​He may indeed (if sober all this time)
260 Plague with Dispute, or persecute with Rhyme.
We only furnish what he cannot use,
Or wed to what he must divorce, a Muse:
Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once,
And petrify a Genius^{[R 75]} to a Dunce:
265 Or set on Metaphysic ground to prance,
Show all his paces, not a step advance.
With the same Cement, ever sure to bind,
We bring to one dead level ev'ry mind.
Then take him to devellop, if you can,
270 And hew the Block off,^{[R 76]} and get out the Man.
But wherefore waste I words? I see advance
Whore, Pupil, and lac'd Governor^{[R 77][R 78]} from France.
​Walker! our hat—nor more he deign'd to say,
But, stern as Ajax' spectre,^{[R 79]} strode away.
275 ⁠In flow'd at once a gay embroider'd race,
And titt'ring push'd the Pedants off the place:^{[R 80]}
Some would have spoken, but the voice was drown'd
By the French horn, or by the op'ning hound.
The first came forwards, with as easy mien,^{[R 81]}
280 As if he saw St. James's^{[R 82]} and the Queen.
When thus th'attendant Orator^{[R 83]} begun.
Receive, great Empress! thy accomplish'd Son:
Thine from the birth, and sacred from the rod,
A dauntless infant! never scar'd with God.^{[R 84]}
285 The Sire saw, one by one, his Virtues wake:
The Mother begg'd the blessing of a Rake.
​Thou gav'st that Ripeness, which so soon began,
And ceas'd so soon, he ne'er was Boy, nor Man.^{[R 85]}
Thro' School and College, thy kind cloud o'ercast,
290 Safe and unseen the young Æneas past:
Thence bursting glorious,^{[R 86]} all at once let down,
Stunn'd with his giddy Larum half the town.
Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew:
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too.
295 There all thy gifts and graces we display,
Thou, only thou, directing all our way!
To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs,
Pours at great Bourbon's feet her silken sons;
Or Tyber, now no longer Roman, rolls,
300 Vain of Italian Arts, Italian Souls:
​To happy Convents, bosom'd deep in vines,
Where slumber Abbots, purple as their wines:
To Isles of fragrance, lilly-silver'd vales,^{[R 87]}
Diffusing languor in the panting gales:
305 To lands of singing, or of dancing slaves,
Love-whisp'ring woods, and lute-resounding waves.
But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps,
And Cupids ride the Lyon of the Deeps;^{[R 88]}
Where, eas'd of Fleets, the Adriatic main
310 Wafts the smooth Eunuch and enamour'd swain.
Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,
And gather'd ev'ry Vice on Christian ground;
Saw ev'ry Court, hear'd ev'ry King declare
His royal Sense, of Op'ra's or the Fair;
315 The Stews and Palace equally explor'd,
Intrigu'd with glory, and with spirit whor'd;
Try'd all hors-d'œuvres, all liqueurs defin'd,
Judicious drank, and greatly-daring din'd;^{[R 89]}
Dropt the dull lumber of the Latin store,
320 Spoil'd his own language, and acquir'd no more;
​All Classic learning lost on Classic ground;
And last turn'd Air, the Echo of a Sound!^{[R 90]}
See now, half-cur'd, and perfectly well-bred,
With nothing but a Solo in his head;^{[R 91]}
325 As much Estate, and Principle, and Wit,
As Jansen, Fleetwood, Cibber^{[R 92]} shall think fit;
Stol'n from a Duel, follow'd by a Nun,
And, if a Borough chuse him, not undone;
See, to my country happy I restore
330 This glorious Youth, and add one Venus more.
Her too receive (for her my soul adores)^{[R 93]}
So may the sons of sons of sons of whores,^{[R 94]}
​Prop thine, O Empress! like each neighbour Throne,
And make a long Posterity thy own.
335 ⁠Pleas'd, she accepts the Hero, and the Dame,
Wraps in her Veil, and frees from sense of Shame.
 Then look'd, and saw a lazy, lolling sort,
Unseen at Church, at Senate, or at Court,
Of ever-listless Loit'rers, that attend
340 No Cause, no Trust, no Duty, and no Friend.
Thee too, my Paridel!^{[R 95]} she mark'd thee there,
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess^{[R 96]}
The Pains and Penalties of Idleness.
345 She pity'd! but her Pity only shed
Benigner influence on thy nodding head.

^{[R 97]} ​ But Annius,^{[R 98]} crafty Seer, with ebon wand,
And well dissembled em'rald on his hand,
False as his Gems, and canker'd as his Coins,
350 Came, cramm'd with capon, from where Pollio dines.
Soft, as the wily Fox is seen to creep,
Where bask on sunny banks the simple sheep,
Walk round and round, now prying here, now there;
So he, but pious, whisper'd first his pray'r.
355 ⁠Grant, gracious Goddess!^{[R 99]} grant me still to cheat,^{[R 100]}
O may thy cloud still cover the deceit!
Thy choicer mists on this assembly shed,
But pour them thickest on the noble head.
So shall each youth, assisted by our eyes,
360 See other Cæsars, other Homers rise;
Thro' twilight ages hunt th' Athenian fowl,^{[R 101]}
Which Chalcis Gods, and mortals call an owl,
​Now see an Attys, now a Cecrops^{[R 102]} clear,
Nay, Mahomet! the Pigeon at thine ear;
365 Be rich in ancient brass, tho' not in gold,
And keep his Lares, tho' his house be sold;
To headless Phoebe his fair bride postpone,
Honour a Syrian Prince above his own;
Lord of an Otho, if I vouch it true;
370 Blest in one Niger, till he knows of two.
⁠Mummius^{[R 103]} o'erheard him; Mummius, Fool-renown'd,
Who like his Cheops^{[R 104]} stinks above the ground,
Fierce as a startled Adder, swell'd, and said,
Rattling an ancient Sistrum at his head.
​375 ⁠Speak'st thou of Syrian Princes? Traitor base!^{[R 105]}
Mine, Goddess! mine is all the horned race.
True, he had wit, to make their value rise;
From foolish Greeks to steal them, was as wise;
More glorious yet, from barb'rous hands to keep,
380 When Sallee Rovers chac'd him on the deep.
Then taught by Hermes, and divinely bold,
Down his own throat he risqu'd the Grecian gold;
Receiv'd each Demi-God^{[R 106]}, with pious care,
Deep in his Entrails—I rever'd them there,
385 I bought them, shrouded in that living shrine,
And, at their second birth, they issue mine.
⁠Witness great Ammon!^{[R 107]} by whose horns I swore,
(Reply'd soft Annius) this our paunch before
​Still bears them, faithful; and that thus I eat,
390 Is to refund the Medals with the meat.
To prove me, Goddess! clear of all design,
Bid me with Pollio sup, as well as dine:
There all the Learn'd shall at the labour stand,
And Douglas^{[R 108]} lend his soft, obstetric hand.
395 ⁠The Goddess smiling seem'd to give consent;
So back to Pollio, hand in hand, they went.
 Then thick as Locusts black'ning all the ground,^{[R 109]}
A tribe, with weeds and shells fantastic crown'd,
Each with some wond'rous gift approach'd the Pow'r,
400 A Nest, a Toad, a Fungus, or a Flow'r.
But far the foremost, two, with earnest zeal,
And aspect ardent to the Throne appeal.
 The first thus open'd: Hearthy suppliant's call,
Great Queen, and common Mother of us all!
405 Fair from its humble bed I rear'd this Flow'r,
Suckled, and chear'd, with air, and sun, and show'r,
​Soft on the paper ruff its leaves I spread,
Bright with the gilded button tipt its head,
Then thron'd in glass, and nam'd it Caroline:^{[R 110]}
410 Each Maid cry'd, charming! and each Youth, divine!^{[I 4]}
Did Nature's pencil ever blend such rays,
Such vary'd light in one promiscuous blaze?
Now prostrate! dead! behold that Caroline:
No Maid cries, charming! and no Youth, divine!
415 And lo the wretch! whose vile, whose insect lust
Lay'd this gay daughter of the Spring in dust.
Oh punish him, or to th' Elysian shades
Dismiss my soul, where no Carnation fades.
​⁠He ceas'd, and wept. With innocence of mien,
420 Th' Accus'd stood forth, and thus address'd the Queen.
⁠Of all th' enamel'd race,^{[I 5]} whose silv'ry wing
Waves to the tepid Zephyrs of the spring,
Or swims along the fluid atmosphere,
Once brightest shin'd this child of Heat and Air.
425 I saw, and started from its vernal bow'r
The rising game, and chac'd from flow'r to flow'r,
It fled, I follow'd; now in hope, now pain;
It stopt, I stopt; it mov'd, I mov'd again.^{[I 6]}
At last it fix'd, 'twas on what plant it pleas'd,
430 And where it fix'd, the beauteous bird I seiz'd:
Rose or Carnation was below my care;
I meddle, Goddess! only in my sphere.
I tell the naked fact without disguise,
And, to excuse it, need but shew the prize;
435 Whose spoils this paper offers to your eye,
Fair ev'n in death! this peerless Butterfly.
​⁠My sons! (she answer'd) both have done your parts:
Live happy both, and long promote our arts.
But hear a Mother, when she recommends
440 To your fraternal care, our sleeping friends.^{[R 111]}
The common Soul, of Heav'n's more frugal make,
Serves but to keep fools pert, and knaves awake:
A drowzy Watchman, that just gives a knock,
And breaks our rest, to tell us what's a clock.
445 Yet by some object ev'ry brain is stirr'd;
The dull may waken to a Humming-bird;
The most recluse, discreetly open'd, find
Congenial matter in the Cockle-kind;
The mind, in Metaphysics at a loss,
450 May wander in a wilderness of Moss;^{[R 112]}
The head that turns at super-lunar things,
Poiz'd with a tail, may steer on Wilkins' wings.^{[R 113]}
⁠O! would the Sons of Men once think their Eyes^{[R 114]}
And Reason giv'n them but to study Flies!
​455 See Nature in some partial narrow shape,
And let the Author of the Whole escape:
Learn but to trifle; or, who most observe,
To wonder at their Maker, not to serve.
 Be that my task (replies a gloomy Clerk,^{[R 115]}
460 Sworn foe to Myst'ry, yet divinely dark;
Whose pious hope aspires to see the day
When Moral Evidence shall quite decay,^{[R 116]}
And damns implicit faith, and holy lies,
Prompt to impose, and fond to dogmatize:)
465 Let others creep by timid steps, and slow,^{[R 117]}
On plain Experience lay foundations low,
​By common sense to common knowledge bred,
And last, to Nature's Cause thro' Nature led.
All-seeing in thy mists, we want no guide,
470 Mother of Arrogance, and Source of Pride!
We nobly take the high Priori Road,^{[R 118]}
And reason downward, till we doubt of God:^{[R 119]}
Make Nature still^{[R 120]} incroach upon his plan;
And shove him off as far as e'er we can:
475 Thrust some Mechanic Cause into his place;
Or bind in Matter, or diffuse in Space.
​Or, at one bound o'er-leaping all his laws,^{[R 121]}
Make God Man's Image, Man the final Cause,
Find Virtue local, all Relation scorn,
480 See all in Self,^{[R 122]} and but for self be born:
Of nought so certain as our Reason still,^{[R 123]}
Of nought so doubtful as of Soul and Will.
Oh hide the God still more! and make us see
Such as Lucretius drew,^{[R 124]} a God like Thee:

^{[R 125]} ​485 Wrapt up in Self, a God without a Thought,
Regardless of our merit or default.
Or that bright Image^{[R 126]} to our fancy draw,
Which Theocles in raptur'd vision saw,^{[R 127]}
​While thro' Poetic scenes the Genius roves,
490 Or wanders wild in Academic Groves;^{[R 128]}
That Nature our Society adores,
Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus^{[R 129]} snores.
 Rous'd at his name, up rose the bowzy Sire,
And shook from out his Pipe the seeds of fire;^{[R 130]}
495 Then snapt his box, and strok'd his belly down:
Rosy and rev'rend, tho' without a Gown.
Bland and familiar to the throne he came,
Led up the Youth, and call'd the Goddess Dame.
Then thus. From Priest-craft happily set free,
500 Lo! ev'ry finish'd Son returns to thee:^{[R 131]}
​First slave to Words,^{[R 132]} then vassal to a Name,
Then dupe to Party; child and man the same;
Bounded by Nature, narrow'd still by Art,
A trifling head, and a contracted heart.
505 Thus bred, thus taught, how many have I seen,
Smiling on all, and smil'd on by a Queen.
Mark'd out for Honours, honour'd for their Birth,
To thee the most rebellious things on earth:
Now to thy gentle shadow all are shrunk,
510 All melted down, in Pension, or in Punk!
So K* so B** sneak'd into the grave,
A Monarch's half, and half a Harlot's slave.
Poor W** nipt in Folly's broadest bloom,
Who praises now? his Chaplain on his Tomb.
515 Then take them all, oh take them to thy breast!
Thy Magus, Goddess! shall perform the rest.
 With that, a Wizard old^{[R 133]} his Cup extends;
Which whoso tastes, forgets his former friends,
​Sire, Ancestors, Himself. One casts his eyes
520 Up to a Star, and like Endymion dies:
A Feather shooting from another's head,
Extracts his brain, and Principle is fled,
Lost is his God,^{[R 134]} his Country, ev'ry thing;
And nothing left but Homage to a King!

^{[R 135]}

^{[I 7]} ​525 The vulgar herd turn off to roll with Hogs,
To run with Horses, or to hunt with Dogs;
But, sad example! never to escape
Their Infamy, still keep the human shape.^{[R 136]}
 But she, good Goddess, sent to ev'ry child^{[R 137]}
530 Firm Impudence, or Stupefaction mild;
And strait succeeded, leaving shame no room,
Cibberian forehead, or Cimmerian gloom.
 Kind Self-conceit to some her glass applies,
Which no one looks in with another's eyes:
534 But as the Flatt'rer or Dependant paint,
Beholds himself a Patriot, Chief, or Saint.
 On others Int'rest her gay liv'ry flings,
Int'rest, that waves on Party-colour'd wings:
Turn'd to the Sun, she casts a thousand dyes,
540 And, as she turns, the colours fall or rise.
​ 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^{[R 138]} trickling in their ear.
545 Great C**, H** ,P**, R**, K*,
Why all your Toils? your Sons have learn'd to sing.
How quick Ambition hastes to ridicule!
The Sire is made a Peer, the Son a Fool.
 On some, a Priest succinct in amice white
550 Attends; all flesh is nothing in his fight!
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,^{[R 139]}
Turns Hares to Larks, and Pigeons into Toads.
​555 Another (for in all what one can shine?^{[R 140]})
Explains the Seve and Verdeur^{[R 141]} of the Vine.
What cannot copious Sacrifice attone?
Thy Treufles, Perigord! thy Hams, Bayonne!
With French Libation, and Italian Strain,
560 Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain.^{[R 142][R 143]}
Knight lifts the head, for what are crowds undone
To three essential Partriges in one?^{[R 144]}
Gone ev'ry blush, and silent all reproach,
Contending Princes mount them in their Coach.
​565 ⁠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 Glow-worm, or Vertù profess,
570 Shine in the dignity of F. R. S.
Some, deep Free-Masons, join the silent race^{[R 145]}
Worthy to fill Pythagoras's place:
Some Botanists, or Florists at the least,
Or issue Members of an Annual feast.
575 Nor past the meanest unregarded, one
Rose a Gregorian, one a Gormogon.^{[R 146]}
The last, not least in honour or applause,
Isis and Cam made Doctors of her Laws.
⁠Then blessing all, Go Children of my care!
580 To Practice now from Theory repair.
All my commands are easy, short, and full:
My Sons! be proud, be selfish, and be dull.^{[R 147]}
​Guard my Prerogative, assert my Throne:
This Nod confirms each Privilege your own.^{[R 148]}
585 The Cap and Switch be sacred to his Grace;
With Staff and Pumps the Marquis lead 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,
590 Or draw to silk Arachne's subtile line;^{[R 149]}
The Judge to dance his brother Sergeant call;
The Senator at Cricket urge the Ball;
​The Bishop stow (Pontific Luxury!)
An hundred Souls of Turkeys in a pye;
595 The sturdy Squire to Gallic masters stoop,
And drown his Lands and Manors in a Soupe.
Others import yet nobler arts from France,
Teach Kings to fiddle,^{[R 150]} and make Senates dance.
Perhaps more high some daring son may soar,
600 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!
605 ⁠More she had spoke, but yawn'd— All Nature nods:
What Mortal can resist the Yawn of Gods?^{[R 151]}
Churches and Chapels instantly it reach'd;^{[R 152]}
(St. James's first, for leaden Gilbert preach'd)

^{[R 153]} ​Then catch'd the Schools; the Hall scarce kept awake;
610 The Convocation gap'd, but could not speak:^{[R 154]}
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;
Ev'n Palinurus nodded at the Helm:
615 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.^{[R 155]}

^{[R 156]} ​⁠O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone,
620 Wits have short Memories,^{[R 157]} and Dunces none)
Relate, who first, who last resign'd to rest;
Whose Heads she partly, whose completely blest;
What Charms could Faction, what Ambition lull,
The Venal quiet, and intrance the Dull;^{[R 158]}
625 'Till drown'd was Sense, and Shame, and Right, and Wrong—
O sing, and hush the Nations with thy Song!
*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*⁠*
⁠In vain, in vain,–the all-composing Hour
Resistless falls: The Muse obeys the Pow'r.
​She comes! she comes! the sable Throne behold^{[R 159]}
630 Of Night Primæval, and of Chaos old!
Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying Rain-bows die away.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
635 As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sick'ning stars fade off th'ethereal plain;
As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,^{[I 8]}
Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
640 Art after Art goes out, and all is Night.
See skulking Truth to her old Cavern fled,^{[R 160]}
Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Philosophy, that lean'd on Heav'n before,^{[R 161]}
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
​645 Physic of Metaphysic begs defence,
And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense!^{[R 162]}
See Mystery to Mathematics fly!^{[R 163]}
In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.