By Swift, by Machiavel, by Rochefoucault, By Fenelon, by Luther, and by Plato; By Tillotson, and Wesley, and Rousseau, Who knew this life was not worth a potato. ’Tis not their fault, nor mine, if this be so— For my part, I pretend not to be Cato, Nor even Diogenes.—We live and die, But which is best, you know no more than I. Socrates said, our only knowledge was ‘To know that nothing could be known;’ a pleasant Science enough, which levels to an ass Each man of wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton (that proverb of the mind), alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only’like a youth Picking up shells by the great ocean—Truth.’ Ecclesiastes said, ‘that all is vanity’— Most modern preachers say the same, or show it By their examples of true Christianity: In short, all know, or very soon may know it; And in this scene of all-confess’d inanity, By saint, by sage, by preacher, and by poet, Must I restrain me, through the fear of strife, From holding up the nothingness of life? Dogs, or men!—for I flatter you in saying That ye are dogs—your betters far—ye may Read, or read not, what I am now essaying To show ye what ye are in every way. As little as the moon stops for the baying Of wolves, will the bright muse withdraw one ray From out her skies—then howl your idle wrath! While she still silvers o’er your gloomy path. ‘Fierce loves and faithless wars’—I am not sure If this be the right reading—’tis no matter; The fact ’s about the same, I am secure; I sing them both, and am about to batter A town which did a famous siege endure, And was beleaguer’d both by land and water By Souvaroff, or Anglice Suwarrow, Who loved blood as an alderman loves marrow. The fortress is call’d Ismail, and is placed Upon the Danube’s left branch and left bank, With buildings in the Oriental taste, But still a fortress of the foremost rank, Or was at least, unless ’tis since defaced, Which with your conquerors is a common prank: It stands some eighty versts from the high sea, And measures round of toises thousands three. Within the extent of this fortification A borough is comprised along the height Upon the left, which from its loftier station Commands the city, and upon its site A Greek had raised around this elevation A quantity of palisades upright, So placed as to impede the fire of those Who held the place, and to assist the foe’s. This circumstance may serve to give a notion Of the high talents of this new Vauban: But the town ditch below was deep as ocean, The rampart higher than you’d wish to hang: But then there was a great want of precaution (Prithee, excuse this engineering slang), Nor work advanced, nor cover’d way was there, To hint at least ‘Here is no thoroughfare.’