BE fure at * Will's the following Day,
Lie fnug, to hear what Criticks fay.
And if you find the general Vogue
Pronounces you a stupid Rogue;
Damns all your Thoughts as low and little
Sit ftill, and swallow down your Spittle.
Be filent as a Politician,
For, talking may beget Suspicion :
Or praise the Judgment of the Town,
And help your felf to run it down.
up your fond paternal Pride,
Nor argue on the weaker Side:
For, Poems read without a Name,
We justly praise, or justly blame :
And Criticks have no partial Views,
Except they know whom they abuse.
And fince you ne'er provok'd their Spight,
Depend upon't their Judgment's right.
But if you blab you are undone ;
Confider what a Risk you run;
You lofe your Credit all at once;
The Town will mark you for a Dunce:
The vileft Doggrel Grubftreet fends,
Will pafs for yours with Foes and Friends.
* The Poet's Coffee-House.
must bear the whole Disgrace,
"Till fome fresh Blockhead takes your Place.
YOUR Secret kept, your Poem funk, And fent in Quires to line a Trunk:
If still you be difpos'd to rhime,
Go try your Hand a second Time:
Again you fail; yet fafe's the Word;
Take Courage, and attempt a Third.
But first with Care employ your Thoughts,
Where Criticks mark'd your former Faults:
The trivial Turns, the borrow'd Wit,
The Similies that nothing fit;
The Cant which every Fool repeats,
Town-Jefts, and Coffee-houfe Conceits:
Descriptions tedious, flat and dry,
And introduc'd the Lord knows why :
Or where we find your Fury fet
Against the harmless Alphabet;
On A's and B's your
While Readers wonder whom you meant;
A publick or a private Robber;
A Statesman, or a South-Sea Fobber.
A Pte who no God believes;
A, or Den of Thieves.
A Pick-purfe at the Bar, or Bench;
A Dutchefs, or a Suburb-Wench.
Or oft when Epithets you link,
In gaping Lines to fill a Chink;
Like Stepping-stones to fave a Stride,
In Streets where Kennels are too wide 3
Or like a Heel-piece to fupport
A Cripple with one Foot too fhort :
Or like a Bridge that joins a Marish
To Moorlands of a diff'rent Parish.
So have I feen ill-coupled Hounds,
Drag diff'rent Ways in miry Grounds.
So Geographers in Afric Maps
With Savage Pictures fill their Gaps;
And o'er unhabitable Downs
Place Elephants for want of Towns!
BUT though you miss your third Essay,
You need not throw your Pen away.
Lay now afide all Thoughts of Fame,
To fpring more profitable Game
From Party-Merit feek Support;
The vileft Verse thrives beft at C.
A Pamphlet in Sir Bob's Defence
Will never fail to bring in Pence;
Nor be concern'd about the Sale,
pays his Workmen on the Nail.
the Moment he is crown'd,
Inherits ev'ry Virtue round;
As Emblems of the Sov'reign Pow'r,
Like other Bawbles of the Tow'r.
Is gen'rous, valiant, just and wise,
And fo continues 'till he dies.
His humble Se this profeffes,
In all their Speeches, Votes, Addreffes.
But once you fix him in a Tomb,
His Virtues fade, his Vices bloom;
And each Perfection wrong imputed
Is fully at his Death confuted.
The Loads of Poems in his Praife,
Afcending, make one Fun'ral Blaze.
As foon as you can hear his Knell,
This G on Earth turns D- in Hell.
And, lo, his Ms of State,
Transform'd to Imps, his Levee wait:
Where, in the Scenes of endless Woe,
They ply their former Arts below:
And as they fail in Charon's Boat,
Contrive to bribe the Judge's Vote.
To Cerberus they give a Sop,
His triple-barking Mouth to ftop:
* Or in the Iv'ry Gate of Dreams,
Project E**e and S*
Or hire their Party-Pamphleteers;
To fet Elyftum by the Ears.
THEN, Poet, if you mean to thrive, Employ your Mufe on Kings alive; With Prudence gath'ring up a Cluster Of all the Virtues you can mufter: Which form'd into a Garland sweet, Lay humbly at your M's Feet, Who, as the Odours reach his Throne, Will fmile, and think 'em all his own:
Sunt gemine Somni porte
Altera candenti perfecta nitens elephants,
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