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On wing proportion'd to your quarry rise,

And stoop to earth, or foar among the fkies. 280
Thus when a modish folly you rehearse,
Free the expreffion, fimple be the verse.
In artless numbers paint th' ambitious Peer
That mounts the box, and fhines a Charioteer :
In strains familiar fing the midnight toil

285

Of Camps and Senates disciplin'd by Hoyle;
Patriots and Chiefs, whofe deep defign invades
And carries off the captive King-of Spades!
Let SATIRE here in milder vigour fhine,
And gayly graceful sport along the line ; 290
Bid courtly Fashion quit her thin pretence,
And smile each Affectation into fenfe.

Not fo when Virtue by her Guards betray'd, Spurn'd from her Throne, implores the Mufe's aid: When crimes, which erft in kindred darkness lay, Rife frontless, and infult the eye of day;

296

Indignant Hymen veils his hallow'd fires,
And white-rob'd Chastity with tears retires;

When rank Adultery on the genial bed

Hot from Cocytus rears her baleful head :

300

When private Faith and publick Trust are fold,

And Traitors barter Liberty for gold;

When fell Corruption dark and deep, like fate,
Saps the foundation of a finking State:

When Giant-Vice and Irreligion rise,

rage:

305

On mountain'd falfehoods to invade the Skies:
Then warmer numbers glow thro' SATIRE's page,
And all her fmiles are darken'd into
On eagle-wing the gains Parnaffus' height,
Not lofty EPIC foars a nobler flight :
Then keener indignation fires her eye;
Then flash her lightnings, and her thunders fly;
Wide and more wide her flaming bolts are hurl'd,
Till all her wrath involves the guilty World.

310

315

Yet SATIRE oft affumes a gentler mien, And beams on Virtue's friends a fmile ferene : She wounds reluctant; pours her balm with joy; Glad to commend where Worth attracts her eye. But chief, when Virtue, Learning, Arts decline, She joys to fee unconquer'd Merit fhine; 320 Where bursting glorious, with departing ray, True Genius gilds the close of Britain's Day : With joy the fees the stream of Roman art From MURRAY's tongue

flow

purer to the heart: Sees YORKE to Fame, e'er yet to Manhood known, And just to ev'ry virtue, but his own:

Hears unftain'd CAM with generous pride proclaim A SAGE'S, CRITIC's, and a POET's name :

Eeholds, where WIDCOMBE's happy hills ascend, Lach orphan'd Art and Virtue find a friend : 326 To HAGLEY's honour'd Shade directs her view; And culls each flow'r, to form a Wreath for You.

But tread with cautious step this dang'rous ground, Befet with faithlefs precipices round : 330 Truth be your guide: difdain Ambition's call; And if you fall with Truth, you greatly fall. 'Tis Virtue's native luftre that must shine ; The Poet can but fet it in his line:

And who unmov'd with laughter can behold 335 A fordid pebble meanly grac'd with gold?

Let real Merit then adorn

your lays,

For Shame attends on prostituted praise :

And all your wit, your most distinguish'd art 339 But makes us grieve you want an honest heart.

Nor think the Mufe by SATIRE's Law confin'd; She yields defcription of the noblest kind, Inferior art the Landskip may design, And paint the purple ev'ning in the line: Her daring thought effays a higher plan; Her hand delineates Paffion, pictures Man.

345

And great the toil, the latent foul to trace,
To paint the heart, and catch internal grace;
By turns bid Vice or Virtue ftrike our eyes,
Now bid a Wolfey or a Cromwel rife;

350

Now with a touch more facred and refin'd,
Call forth a CHESTERFIELD's or LONSDALE's mind.
Here sweet or strong may ev'ry Colour flow :
Here let the pencil warm, the canvass glow:
Of light and shade provoke the noble ftrife, 355
And wake each striking feature into life.

TH

PART III.

HRO' Ages thus hath SATIRE keenly shin'd,
The Friend to Truth, to Virtue, and Man-

kind :

Yet the bright flame from Virtue ne'er had sprung, And Man was guilty ere the Poet sung.

360

This Mufe in filence joy'd each better Age,
Till glowing crimes had wak'd her into rage.
Truth saw her honest spleen with new delight,
their flight.
And bade her wing her shafts, and urge
First on the Sons of Greece the prov'd her art, 365
And Sparta felt the fierce IAMBICK dart*.
TO LATIUM next, avenging SATIRE flew:
The flaming faulchion rough LUCILIUS ' drew;
With dauntless warmth in Virtue's caufe engag'd,
And confcious Villains trembled as he rag'd. 370

NOTES.

a Archilocum proprio rabies armavit Lambo.

b Enfe velut ftricto quoties Lucilius ardens
Infremuit, rubet auditor cui frigida mens eft

b

HOR.

Criminibus, tacita fudant præcordia culpa. Juv. S. i.

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