Lo! as _Anchises_, to the Goddess-born, So I the Worthies, that thy Page adorn, Point out to Thee.----See ‖ here * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The Prelate! next, exil’d by cruel Fates, Who plagues all Churches, and confounds all States; With Treasons past perplex’d, and present Cares; A Fop in Rhime, and Bungler in Affairs. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * And here! a Groupe of Brother Quill-men see, Co-witlings all, and Demi-bards like Thee; Such whom the Muse shall pass with just Disdain, Nor add one Trophy to thy mottly Train: But Quack _Arb----t_ shall Oblivion blot, That puzzling, plodding, prating, pedant _Scot_! The grating Scribler! whose untun’d Essays Mix the _Scotch_ Thistle with the _English_ Bays, By either _Phœbus_ pre-ordain’d to Ill, The Hand prescribing, or the flattering Quill, Who doubly plagues, and boasts two Arts to kill! [Footnote ‖: The Characters left out here may perhaps be inserted in some future Edition of this Poem.] ’Midst this vain Tribe, that aid thy setting Ray, The Muse shall view, but spare ill-faced _G--y_: Poor (f) _G--y_, who loses most when most he wins. And gives his Foes his Fame, and bears their Sins; Who more by Fortune than by Nature curst, Yields his best Pieces, and must own _Thy_ worst. Thus prop’d, thy Head with _Grub-street_ Zephyrs tainted, By (g) _Rich_ recorded, and by _J----_ painted; _J----!_ who so refin’d a Rake is reckon’d, He breaks all (h) _Sinai_’s Laws, except the Second: Thus prais’d, thus drawn, t’extend thy Projects try, Leave the _Blue * Languish_, and the Crimson Sigh; Leave the gay Epithets that Beauty crown, White ** _Whitylinda_, and _Brownissa_ Brown; Forget awhile (i) _Belinda_ and the Sun; Forget the _Fights of Stand_, and Flights of Run: No more let _Ombre_’s Play inspire thy Vein, Nor strow with Captive Kings the † _Velvet Plain_; Omit awhile the _Silver Peal_ to ring, } Nor talk dulcissant, nor mellifluous sing, } Nor _hang suspended_, nor _adherent cling_. } But haste to mount Immortal Envy’s Throne, To crush all Merit, that disputes thy own; For thou wert born to damp each rising Name, And hang, like Mildews, on the Growth of Fame; Fame’s fairest Blossoms let thy Rancour blast, Bane of the modern Laurel, like the past; While stupid Riot stands in Humour’s Place, And bestial Filth, Humanity’s Disgrace, Low Lewdness, unexcited by Desire, And all great †† _Wilmot_’s Vice, without his Fire. [Footnote *: The Phrases distinguished here in _Italics_, are truly quoted from _P----pe_; and the others in Company with them, ought to be in no other Company.] [Footnote **: See _Dunciad_. _Nigrina_ Black.] [Footnote †: Here a Card Table; in _P--pe_, a Field of Grass.] [Footnote ††: _Wilmot_, Earl of _Rochester_.]