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Fanes, which admiring Gods with pride furvey,
Ambition figh’d: the found it vain to trust The faithless Column and the crumbling Bust: Huge moles, whose shadow stretch'd from shore to shore, Their ruins perish'd, and their place no more ! Convinc'd, the now contracts her vast design, And all her Triumphs shrink into a Coin. A narrow orb each crouded conquest keeps,
25 Beneath her Palm here fad Judea weeps. Now scantier limits the proud Arch confine, And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine; A small Euphrates through the piece is rollid, And little Eagles wave their wings in gold.
The Medal, faithful to its charge of fame, Through climes and ages bears each form and name : In one short view subjected to our eye Gods, Emperors, Heroes, Sages, Beauties, lie. With sharpen 'd fight pale Antiquaries pore,
35 Th'inscription value, but the rult adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears, The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years! VOL. II.
To gain Pescennius one employs his Schemes,
Oh, when thall Britain, conscious of her claim,
“O'Who broke no promise, served no private end,
EPISTLE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT,
SAT I RES.
The first Publication of this Epistle.
the several occasions offered. I had no thoughts of publishing it, till it pleased some persons of Rank and Fortune (the Authors of Verses to the Imitator of Horace, and of an Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton-Court] to attack, in a very extraordinary manner, not only my Writings (of which, being public, the Publick is judge) but my Perfon, Morals, and Family, whereof, to those who know me not, a truer information may be requisite. Being divided between the necessity to fay something of myself, and my own laziness to undertake so aukward a talk, I thought it the shortest way to put the last hand to this Epistle. If it have any thing pleasing,
it will be that by which I am most desirous to please, the Truth and the Sentiment; and if any thing offensive, it will be only to those I am least forry to offend, the vicious or the ungenerous.
Many will know their own pictures in it, there being not a circumstance but what is true: but I have, for the most part, spared their Names; and they may escape being laughed at, if they please.
I would have some of them know, it was owing to the request of the learned and candid Friend to whom it is inscribed, that I make not as free Use of theirs as they have done of mine. However, I shall have this advantage, and honour, on my side, that whereas, by their proceeding, any abuse may be directed at any man, no injury can poflibly be done by mine, since a nameless Character can never be found out, but by its truth and likeness.
HUT, shut the door, good John ! fatigued I said,
Tye up the knocker, fay I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages ! nay, 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out : Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
S They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my Grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. No place is sacred, not the Church is free, Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me;