In pleasing memory of all he stole,
How here he sipped, how there he plundered snug,
And sucked all o’er, like an industrious bug....
A Gothic library! of Greece and Rome
Well purged, and worthy Settle, Banks, and Broome. 100
But, high above, more solid learning shone,
The classics of an age that heard of none;...
Of these, twelve volumes, twelve of amplest size,
Redeemed from tapers and defrauded pies,
Inspired he seizes; these an altar raise;
An hecatomb of pure unsullied lays
That altar crowns; a folio common-place
Founds the whole pile, of all his works the base;
Quartos, octavos, shape the lessening pyre;
A twisted birthday ode completes the spire. 110
Then he: ‘Great tamer of all human art!
First in my care, and ever at my heart;
Dullness! whose good old cause I yet defend,
With whom my muse began, with whom shall end;...
O! ever gracious to perplexed mankind,
Still spread a healing mist before the mind;
And, lest we err by wit’s wild dancing light,
Secure us kindly in our native night.
Or, if to wit a coxcomb make pretence,
Guard the sure barrier between that and sense; 120
Or quite unravel all the reasoning thread,
And hang some curious cobweb in its stead!...
Some demon stole my pen (forgive the offence)
And once betrayed me into common sense:
Else all my prose and verse were much the same;
This, prose on stilts; that, poetry fallen lame....
O born in sin, and forth in folly brought!
Works damned, or to be damned! (your father’s fault)
Go, purified by flames ascend the sky,
My better and more Christian progeny! 130
Unstained, untouched, and yet in maiden sheets;
While all your smutty sisters walk the streets’....
With that, a tear (portentous sign of grace!)
[298–306]