Contemns each surly Academic foe,
And courts the spruce Freethinker and the Beau.
Dædalian arguments but few can trace,
But all can read the Language of grimace.
Hence mighty Ridicule's all-conqu'ring hand 215
Shall work Herculean wonders thro' the Land;
Bound in the magic of her cobweb chain,
You, mighty WARBURTON, shall rage in vain,
In vain the trackless maze of Truth You scan,
And lend th' informing Clue to erring Man : 220
No more shall Reason boast her pow'r divine,
Her Bafe eternal fhook by Folly's mine!
Truth's facred Fort th' exploded laugh shall win;
And Coxcombs vanquish BERKLEY by a grin.
But you, more fage, reject th' inverted rule, 225 That truth is e'er explor'd by Ridicule: On truth, on falsehood let her colours fall, She throws a dazzling glare alike on all; As the gay Prism but mocks the flatter'd eye, And gives to ev'ry object ev'ry dye. Beware the mad Advent'rer: bold and blind She hoifts her fail, and drives with ev'ry wind; Deaf as the Storm to finking Virtue's groan, Nor heeds a Friend's destruction, or her own.
Let clear-ey'd Reason at the helm preside,
Bear to the wind, or stem the furious tide;
Then Mirth may urge, when Reason can explore,
This point the way, that waft us glad to shore.
Tho' distant Times may rise in SATIRE's page, Yet chief 'tis Her's to draw the present Age: With Wisdom's lustre, Folly's shade contrast, And judge the reigning Manners by the past: Bid Britain's Heroes (awful Shades!) arife, And ancient Honour beam on modern Vice: Point back to minds ingenuous, actions fair, 245 Till the Sons blush at what their Fathers were:
Ere yet 'twas beggary the great to trust;
Ere yet 'twas quite a folly to be just;
When low-born Sharpers only dar'd a lye,
Or falfify'd the card, or cogg'd the dye;
Ere Lewdness the stain'd garb of Honour wore,
Or Chastity was carted for the Whore;
Vice flutter'd, in the plumes of Freedom dress'd;
Or public Spirit was the public jeft.
Be ever, in a just expreffion, bold,
Yet ne'er degrade fair SATIRE to a Scold :
Let no unworthy mien her form debase,
But let her smile, and let her frown with grace:
In mirth be temp'rate, temp'rate in her spleen;
Nor, while she preaches modesty, obscene.
Deep let her wound, not rankle to a fore,
Nor call his Lordship -, her Grace a -:
The Muse's charms resistless then assail,
When wrapt in Irony's transparent veil:
Her beauties half-conceal'd the more surprize, 265
And keener lustre sparkles in her eyes.
Then be your line with sharp encomiums grac'd:
Style Clodius honourable, Bufa chaste.
Dart not on Folly an indignant eye :
Who e'er discharg'd Artillery on a Fly?
Deride not Vice: Absurd the thought and vain,
To bind the Tyger in so weak a chain.
Nay more: when flagrant crimes your laughter move,
The Knave exults: to smile is to approve.
The Muse's labour then success shall crown,
When Folly feels her smile, and Vice her frown.
Know next what Measures to each Theme belong, And fuit your thoughts and numbers to your fong: On wing proportion'd to your quarry rise, And stoop to earth, or foar among the skies. 280 Thus when a modish folly you rehearse, Free the expression, simple be the verse.
In artless numbers paint th' ambitious Peer
That mounts the box, and shines a Charioteer :
In strains familiar fing the midnight toil
Of Camps and Senates disciplin'd by Hoyle;
Patriots and Chiefs, whose deep design invades
And carries off the captive King - of Spades!
Let SATIRE here in milder vigour shine,
And gayly graceful sport along the line;
Bid courtly Fashion quit her thin pretence,
And fmile each Affectation into sense.
Not so when Virtue by her Guards betray'd, Spurn'd from her Throne, implores the Muse's aid: When crimes, which erst in kindred darkness lay, Rife frontless, and infult the eye of day;
Indignant Hymen veils his hallow'd fires,
And white-rob'd Chastity with tears retires;
When rank Adultery on the genial bed
Hot from Cocytus rears her baleful head :
When private Faith and publick Trust are sold,
And Traitors barter Liberty for gold:
When fell Corruption dark and deep, like fate,
Saps the Foundation of a finking State :
When Giant-Vice and Irreligion rife,
On mountain'd false-hoods to invade the Skies: Then warmer numbers glow thro' SATIRE's page, And all her smiles are darken'd into rage:
On eagle-wing she gains Parnaffus' height,
Not lofty EPIC foars a nobler flight:
Then keener indignation fires her eye;
Then flash her lightnings, and her thunders fly;
Wide and more wide her flaming bolts are hurl'd,
Till all her wrath involves the guilty World.
Yet SATIRE oft assumes a gentler mien,
And beams on Virtue's friends a smile serene:
She wounds reluctant; pours her balm with joy;
Glad to commend where Worth attracts her eye.
But chief, when Virtue, Learning, Arts decline,
She joys to fee unconquer'd Merit shine;
Where bursting glorious, with departing ray,
True Genius gilds the close of Britain's Day:
With joy the fees the stream of Roman art
From MURRAY's tongue flow purer to the heart:
Sees YORKE to Fame, e'er yet to Manhood known,
And just to ev'ry virtue, but his own:
326
Hears unstain'd CAM with generous pride proclaim
A SAGE'S, CRITIC'S, and a POET's name:
Beholds, where WIDCOMBE's happy hills afcend,
Each orphan'd Art and Virtue find a friend:
TO HAGLEY's honour'd Shade directs her view;
And culls each flow'r, to form a Wreath for You.
But tread with cautious step this dang'rous ground, Beset with faithless precipices round:
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