Of Doctors regularly bred
To fill the mansions of the dead ;
Of Quacks (for Quacks they must be ftill
Who fave when FORMS require to kill)
Who life, and health, and vigour give
To HIM, not one would wish to live;
Of Artifts, who, with nobleft view,
Difinterested plans pursue,
For trembling worth the ladder raise,
And mark out the afcent to praise ;
Of Arts and Sciences, where meet
Sublime, Profound, and all compleat,
A SET (whom at fome fitter time
The MUSE fhall confecrate in Rhime)
Who humble ARTISTS to outdo
A far more lib'ral plan pursue,
And let their well-judg'd PREMIUMS fall
On Those, who have no worth at all;
Of Sign-Poft Exhibitions, rais'd
For laughter, more than to be prais'd,
(Tho' by the way, we cannot fee
Why Praife and Laughter mayn't agree)
Where genuine HUMOUR runs to waste,
And juftly chides our want of Tafte,
Cenfur'd, like other things, tho' good,
Because they are not understood.
To higher fubjects now SHE foars,
And talks of Politics and Whores,
(If to your nice and chafter ears
That Term indelicate appears,
SCRIPTURE politely fhall refine,
And melt it into Concubine)
In the fame breath fpreads BOURBON's league,
And publishes the Grand Intrigue,
In BRUSSELS or our own GAZETTE,
Makes armies fight which never met,
And circulates the Pox or Plague
To LONDON, by the way of HAGUE,
For all the lies which there appear,
Stamp'd with Authority come here;
Borrows as freely from the gabble
Of fome rude leader of a rabble,
Or from the quaint harangues of those
Who lead a Nation by the Nose,
As from thofe forms which, void of Art,
Burft from our honeft PATRIOT's heart,
When ELOQUENCE and VIRTUE (late
Remark'd to live in mutual hate)
Fond of each other's Friendfhip grown,
Claim ev'ry fentence for their own;
And with an equal joy recites
Parade Amours, and half-pay Fights,
Perform'd by Heroes of fair Weather,
Merely by dint of Lace and Feather,
As those rare acts, which HONOUR taught
Our daring Sons where GRANBY fought,
Or those which, with fuperior fkill,
atchiev'd by standing fill.
If the perfon of Fame is defcribed with more humour, and fet forth in a more grotefque figure by Butler, the objects the talks of in the Ghost, are more deferving of Satire; and Fame in this place, it is to be feared, carries as many Truths as Lies.
It would be impoffible to pass the inimitable burlefque of ridiculous Fancy, idle Defcription, and ite Obfervation (to be met with in many Poets, not held contemptible) contain'd in the following Lines.
Now is the time (had we the will) T'amaze the Readers with our skill, To pour out fuch a flood of knowledge As might fuffice for a whole College,
Whilft with a true Poetic force
We trac'd the Goddess in her course,
Sweetly defcribing in our flight,
Each Common and Uncommon Sight,
Making our journal gay and pleasant,
With things long paft, and things now prefent,
once NYMPHS
Is mighty pretty in Relation)
From great Authorities, we know,
Will matter for a Tale beftow.
To make the obfervation clear,
We give our Friends an instance here.
The DAY (that never is forgot)
Was very fine, but very hot;
The NYMPH (another gen'ral rule)
Enflam'd with heat, laid down to cool;
Her Hair (we no exceptions find)
Wav'd careless floating in the wind;
Her heaving breafts, like Summer feas,
Seem'd am'rous of the playful breeze.
Should fond DESCRIPTION tune our lays
In choiceft accents to her praise,
DESCRIPTION we at last should find,
Baffled and weak, would halt behind.
NATURE had form'd her to inspire
In ev'ry bofom foft defire,
Paffions to raise fhe could not feel,
Wounds to inflict she would not heal.
A GOD (his name is no great matter,
Perhaps a Jove, perhaps a SATYR)
Raging with Luft, a GODLIKE flame,
By Chance, as ufual, thither came:
With gloting eyes the Fair-one view'd,
Defir'd her firft, and then purfu'd ;
She (for what other can fhe do)
Muft fly or how can He purfue?
The Mufe (fo Cuftom hath decreed)
Now proves her Spirit by her speed,
Nor must one limping line disgrace
The life and vigour of the Race.
SHE RUNS, AND HE RUNS, 'till at length
Quite deftitute of Breath and strength,
To Heav'n (for there we all apply
For help, when there's no other nigh)
She offers up her Virgin Pray'r,
(Can Virgins pray unpitied there?)
And when the God thinks He has caught her,
Slips thro' his hands, and runs to water,
Becomes a Stream, in which the POET,
If He has any Wit, may fhew it.
A City once for Pow'r renown'd,
Now levell'd even to the ground,
Beyond all doubt is a direction
To introduce fome fine reflexion.
Ah, woeful me! Ah, woeful Man!
Ab! woeful All, do all we can!
Who can on earthly things depend
From one to t'other moment's end?
HONOUR, WIT, GENIUS, WEALTH, and GLORY,
Good lack! good lack! are tranfitory,
Nothing is fure and ftable found,
The very Earth itself turns round.
Monarchs, nay MINISTERS must die,
Muft rot, muft flink Ah, me! ah, why!
Cities themselves in Time decay,
If Cities thus Ah, well-a-day!
lf Brick and Mortar have an end,
On what can Flesh and Blood depend?
Ah woeful me! Ah woeful Man!
Ah, woeful All, do All we can.
The prodigies which follow'd the blaft of the Trump,
Which from the firft belong'd to Fame;
An old ill-favour'd Inftrument,
With which the Goddess was content,
Though under a politer race,
Bagpipes might well fupply its place ——
are poetically imagin'd, and humorously defcribed; and the effects which the found had upon PHYSIC, ELOCUTION, FORM, AVARICE and CREDIT, are fet forth with much Spirit, and in as ftrong Numbers, as the Measure the Author has here chofen, can poffibly admit of.
As an inftance of fine Satyr, and genuine Humour, the reader will accept with pleafure, the following interefting Dialogue, which clofes the Poem:
Great DULLMAN from his bed arofe
-thrice wip'd his nose
-thrice ftrove to frown
- and thrice look'd down.
Then Silence broke-CRAPE, who am I?
CRAPE bow'd, and fmil'd-an arch reply,
Am I not, CRAPE; I am, you know,
Above all those who are below?
Have I not knowledge? and for Wit,
Money will always purchase it,
Nor, if it needful fhould be found,
Will I grudge ten, or twenty Pound,
For which the whole ftock may be bought
Of Scoundrel wits not worth a Groat.
But left I fhould proceed too far,
I'll feel my Friend the Minister,
(Great Men, CRAPE, must not be neglected)
How he in this point is affected,
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