Once--'twas in good Queen ANNA'S Time-- While yet in this benighted Clime The GENIUS of the ARTS (now known On mouldy Pediments alone) Protected all the Men of Mark, Two Painters met Her in the Park. Whether She wore the Robe of Air Portrayed by VERRIO and LAGUERRE; Or, like BELINDA, trod this Earth, Equipped with Hoop of monstrous Girth, And armed at every Point for Slaughter With Essences and Orange-water, I know not: but it seems that then, After some talk of Brush and Pen,-- Some chat of Art both High and Low, Of VAN'S "Goose-Pie" and KNELLER'S "_Mot_,"-- The Lady, as a Goddess should, Bade Them ask of Her what They would. "Then, Madam, my request," says BRISK, Giving his _Ramillie_ a whisk, "Is that your Majesty will crown My humble Efforts with Renown. Let me, I beg it--Thanks to You-- Be praised for Everything I do, Whether I paint a Man of Note, Or only plan a Petticoat." "Nay," quoth the other, "I confess" (This One was plainer in his Dress, And even poorly clad), "for me, I scorn Your Popularity. Why should I care to catch at once The Point of View of every Dunce? Let me do well, indeed, but find The Fancy first, the Work behind; Nor wholly touch the thing I wanted...." The Goddess both Petitions granted. Each in his Way, achieved Success; But One grew Great. And which One? Guess. THE CLAIMS OF THE MUSE. Too oft we hide our Frailties' Blame Beneath some simple-sounding Name! So Folks, who in gilt Coaches ride, Will call Display but _Proper Pride_; So Spendthrifts, who their Acres lose, Curse not their Folly but the _Jews_; So _Madam_, when her Roses faint, Resorts to ... anything but _Paint_.