Why have I swell'd the trump of epic song?
Why call'd in sable weeds the gliding throng,
Whose fates ennobled by the Grecian stage,
In tuneful bosoms wake poetic rage ?-
What are the fruits of all my life's proud aim?-
To toil for Glory, and to find it shame ;-
To feel the scorn that in these gothic times,

Looks down contemptuous on the man of rhymes.-
Wise was my mother:when I was a boy,
And scribbled verses with an idle joy,
She chid me daily as a thriftless fool;
And daily urg'd to learn the golden rule.

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Then, earliest friend *, tho' proud and rash and young,
With reverential awe to thee I clung;

My kindling bosom chose thee from the croud,
My conscious spirit to thy talents bow'd.
The firm Cornutus of my thoughtless age,
The lov'd companion and the guiding sage,
When life before me lay a doubtful maze,
Thy sense mature diffus'd the temperate rays:
But envious Demons thine ascendant crost,
And wisest aims, and fairest hopes were lost.
Oft I recall, in bitterness of heart,

Thy grave invective 'gainst the tuneful art.

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Go, pile thy hearth with faggots, let it blaze "The fun'ral structure of thy darling lays; "Or deep entomb thy labours in a chest, "Retreat of spiders, worms and moths to feast."Who deals in verses, drives with idle hand, "Th' unthrifty plough along the barren sand. "Who feeds on laurel, finds it bitter food, Infusing poison thro' the vital blood.—

* Me tibi supposui, &c. PERSIUS.

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"Would'st thou in age and poverty repent, "The mighty lavish of thy years mispent? "No rather try, while vigour swells thy veins, "The manual arts that lead to honest gains. "A waggon drive, or delve the stubborn field, "Or (still more general task) a musket wield."No more, my friend, the hopeless victim pine, "Of exil'd Phabus, and the exploded Nine, "Despis'd adherent of a ruin'd cause, "The Quixote champion of subverted laws; "An emigrant from Wisdom's fair domain, "As mad and hopeless as the Gallic train, "Go, seek in death a remedy for pain. "Scorn the vain echos of poetic fame; "And learn to thrive on profitable shame. "The Muse's livery, on the modern plan, "Is the sole livery that degrades the man. "No-hadst thou sprung, by dextrous crime or luck, "Obscene, and reeking from the dunghill's muck; "Unblushing pandar, senatorian crimp, "In form a porter, and in soul a pimp; "Had Fortune's worst caprice thy lot ordain'd, "The wealth and state that Enobarbus gain'd; "Had "LOTTERY OFFICE," blazon'd at thy door, "Mark'd thee, the licens'd plunderer of the poor; 81 "Whose starry lamps wide on the darkness flame, "And wretches lure to shipwreck and to shame;. "Wert thou the meanest of the human race, "A cheat, like Sempill, as Aquarius base; "Yet mayst thou clamber on thy bags of gold, "And mount where honours can be bought and sold. "Tell me, abode of all that's mean and great, "Prolific parent of the sage and cheat,

"Tell me, proud Britain, can the globe display, 90 "A spot where gold usurps an equal sway?

"Ere general apathy on genius frown'd, "The poet's praise a ready market found. "Then, stocks and stones had ears for polish'd song; "And dedications charm'd the titled throng. "The dews of flattery could a meal afford, "And lent existence to some nameless Lord. "While favour'd verse a twofold hunger fed"With praise the patron's, and the bard's with bread. "But such the spirit of our golden times, "Ev'n lordly littleness is proof to rhymes; "And splendid poverty will scarce allow "The barren tribute of a courtly bow.

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"I've read "how things inanimate have mov'd"— "Arion's lyre ev'n oddest fishes lov'd; "Hope not applause from senators and peers, "For tuneful song no modern Log has Ears; "In vain the Muse essays her softest mood, "For untam❜d beasts of city, field, or wood. "To them no music like the charming strain, "Of" Hear him-hear him"-or of "Seven's the Main."

"Ye famish, Bards, attend to hunger's call; "And stain no paper-but to hang a wall. "Let Fancy there her wildest freaks display, "Her forms luxuriant, and her colours gay; "Bid airy pinions fan the buxom skies, "Where Grecian fanes on hills aerial rise, "In myriads pour the plastic forms around, "That Darwin's new philosophy has found. "Let Fawns and Oreads croud in silent rings, "And Silphs and Cupids spread the purple wings.

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"With insect joys, papilionaceous Love,
"Possess the flowret; in the herbage move.
"Bid sapient riv❜lets find the level true,

And tender violets weep from eyes so blue, "While the tall mountain lifts the radiant head, "And fondly smiles th' enamour'd grove to wed. "Let such productions on thy paper rise; "Admission thou may'st win to courtly eyes. "Work by the room, and publish by the yard; 130 "And golden harvests shall the toil reward." Such was thy Sermon, in sarcastic vein;

Could youth have listen'd to the wholesome strain.— But Self-conceit essay'd her treacherous art, And pedant Pride possess'd th' inflated heart."The laurell'd portrait, and the lean rewards, "That late Posterity assigns to Bards,

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"I too, perhaps, with nameless names may claim, "The slender palm of biographic fame, "The honours posthumous of days to come, "The portly quarto and the pompous tomb; "And future chissels may in marble trace "The meagre graces of the famish'd face.-"For well I know, tho' these fastidious times "The living Poet starve, and scorn his rhymes, "With keen research they seek ev'n trash that bears "The sacred fiat of revolving years;

"And rake the dust, with antiquarian rage,

"For Grub-street Rhymers of a distant age *.

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"The Bard (said I) superior to the train,

"Who pours no vulgar prostituted strain, "Nor basely crouches to the little proud,

"Nor seeks poor plaudits from th' unletter'd croud;

E. g. The republication of Welsted, Mynot, and other forgotten writers.

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"The genuine offspring of celestial line,
"Whose powers we feel, but hardly can define,
Exulting rises o'er the present scorn,
"And hears the praise of myriads yet unborn."-
For all my notions to Romance belong'd,
And classic visions to my fancy throng'd.
Awhile the dreams, in youthful fancy bred,
Made me forget that Poets must be fed ;—
But riper years awak'd prudential thought,
And love of gain within my bosom wrought.
Then project rose on project in my mind,
Some solid pudding with my praise to find.-
Oh, never Jew has speculated more
In bubble plans, to realize a store!

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The tragic farce of disappointment hear, The tale, my friend, deserves thy pitying ear. "I've read in books our ancestors have told, 170 "How poets flatter'd in the days of old *. "Ev'n to a penny in minute narration, "I see what Dryden earn'd by dedication. "Mine be the wisdom, that examples give. "I too, perhaps, may dedicate and thrive. "I'll cultivate the needy great, and live. "Some conscious Nabob, or some upstart peer, "May suck in flattery with a greedy ear."Some wealthy wretch, with murd'rous guilt opprest, "May lay the flatt'ring unction to his breast. "Delusive Hope !-behold the rival band "Oppose thy progress, and besiege his hand. "Cringe as thou wilt, be prostitute and mean, "To nauseous flatt'ry stoop, or song obscene; "When impious mirth is hurl'd against the skies, "And decency and God alike defies ;

* See the accurate labours of Mr. Malone.

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