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And all your wit, your most distinguish'd art,
But make us grieve you want an honest heart.
Nor think the Muse by SATIRE's law confined:
She yields description of the noblest kind.
Inferior art the landscape may design,
And paint the purple evening in the line:
Her daring thought essays a higher plan;
Her hand delineates passion, pictures man.
And great the toil, the latent soul to trace,
To paint the heart, and catch internal grace;
By turns bid vice or virtue strike our eyes,
Now bid a Wolsey, or a Cromwell rise;
Now with a touch more sacred and refined,
Call forth a CHESTERFIELD's or LONSDALE's mind.

350

355

Here sweet or strong may every colour flow;
Here let the pencil warm, the canvas glow;

Of light and shade provoke the noble strife,
And wake each striking feature into life.

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PART III.

THROUGH ages thus has SATIRE keenly shined,
The friend to truth, to virtue, and mankind :
Yet the bright flame from virtue ne'er had sprung,
And man was guilty ere the poet sung.

365

This Muse in silence joy'd each better age,
Till glowing crimes had wak'd her into rage.
Truth saw her honest spleen with new delight,
And bade her wing her shafts, and urge their flight.
First on the sons of Greece she proved her art,
And Sparta felt the fierce IAMBIC dart.*

370

TO LATIUM next, avenging SATIRE flew :
The flaming falchion rough LuCILIUS+ drew;
With dauntless warmth in virtue's cause engaged,
And conscious villains trembled as he raged.
Then sportive HORACE caught the generous

fire;

375

For SATIRE's bow resign'd the sounding lyre:
Each arrow polish'd in his hand was seen,
And, as it grew more polish'd, grew more keen.

NOTES.

* Archilocum proprio rabies armavit iambo.
Ense velut stricto quoties Lucilius ardens
Infremuit, rubet auditor cui frigida mens est
Criminibus, tacità sudant præcordia culpà.
Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico
Tangit, et admissus circum præcordia ludit,
Callidus excusso populum suspendere naso.

Hor.

Juv. S. i.

Pers. S. i.

His art, conceal'd in studied negligence,
Politely sly, cajoled the foes of sense:
He seem'd to sport and trifle with the dart,
But while he sported, drove it to the heart.

In graver strains majestic PERSIUS wrote,
Big with a ripe exuberance of thought :
Greatly sedate, contemn'd a tyrant's reign,
And lash'd corruption with a calm disdain.

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385

More ardent eloquence, and boundless rage, Inflame bold JUVENAL'S exalted page; His mighty numbers awed corrupted Rome, And swept audacious Greatness to its doom; 390 The headlong torrent thundering from on high, Rent the proud rock that lately braved the sky. But lo! the fatal victor of mankind! Swoln Luxury!-pale Ruin stalks behind! As countless insects from the north-east pour, 395 To blast the spring, and ravage every flower, So barbarous millions spread contagious death; The sickening laurel wither'd at their breath. Deep Superstition's night the skies o'erhung, Beneath whose baleful dews the poppy sprung. 400 No longer Genius woo'd the Nine to love, But Dulness nodded in the Muse's grove: Wit, spirit, freedom, were the sole offence, Nor aught was held so dangerous as sense.

At length, again fair Science shot her ray, 405 Dawn'd in the skies, and spoke returning day. Now, SATIRE, triumph o'er thy flying foe, Now load thy quiver, string thy slacken'd bow!

410

'Tis done!-See, great ERASMUS breaks the spell, And wounds triumphant Folly in her cell! (In vain the solemn cowl surrounds her face, Vain all her bigot cant, her sour grimace,) With shame compell'd her leaden throne to quit, And own the force of reason urged by wit.

'Twas then plain DONNE in honest vengeance

rose,

415

His wit harmonious, though his rhyme was prose :
He 'midst an age of puns and pedants wrote
With genuine sense, and Roman strength of
thought.

425

Yet scarce had SATIRE well relumed her flame, (With grief the Muse records her country's shame,) Ere Britain saw the foul revolt commence, And treacherous wit began her war with sense. Then rose a shameless mercenary train, Whom latest time shall view with just disdain; A race fantastic, in whose gaudy line Untutor❜d thought, and tinsel beauty shine; Wit's shatter'd mirror lies in fragments bright, Reflects not nature, but confounds the sight. Dry morals the court-poet blush'd to sing: "Twas all his praise to say, the oddest thing. 430 Proud for a jest obscene, a patron's nod, To martyr virtue, or blaspheme his God. Ill-fated DRYDEN! who unmoved can see

Th' extremes of wit and meanness join'd in thee! Flames that could mount, and gain their kindred

skies,

Low creeping in the putrid sink of vice;

435

A Muse whom wisdom woo'd, but woo'd in vain,
The pimp of power, the prostitute to gain;
Wreaths that should deck fair virtue's form alone,
To strumpets, traitors, tyrants, vilely thrown: 440
Unrivall'd parts, the scorn of honest fame,
And Genius rise, a monument of shame!

More happy France: immortal BOILEAU there Supported Genius with a sage's care:

Him with her love propitious SATIRE bless'd 445
And breath'd her airs divine into his breast;
Fancy and sense to form his line conspire,
And faultless judgment guides the purest fire.

But see at length the British Genius smile, And shower her bounties o'er her favour'd isle: Behold, for POPE she twines the laurel crown, And centers every poet's power in one;

Each Roman's force adorns his various page,
Gay smiles, corrected strength, and manly rage.
Despairing Guilt and Dulness loath the sight, 455
As spectres vanish at approaching light :
In this clear mirror with delight we view
Each image justly fine, and boldly true;

Here Vice, dragg'd forth by Truth's supreme de

cree,

Beholds and hates her own deformity:

460

While self-seen Virtue in the faithful line
With modest joy surveys her form divine.
But oh, what thoughts, what numbers shall I find,
But faintly to express the poet's mind?
Who yonder star's effulgence can display,
Unless he dip his pencil in the ray?

465