Such courtiers were, and such again may be,
WALPOLE! when men forget to copy thee.

Here cease, my Mufe! the catalogue is writ;
Nor one more candidate for fame admit,
Tho' disappointed thousands juftly blame
Thy partial pen, and boaft an equal claim:
Be this their comfort, fools, omitted here,
May furnish laughter for another year.
Then let CRISPINO, who was ne'er refus'd
The juftice yet of being well abus'd,

With patience wait; and be content to reign
The pink of puppies in fome future ftrain.

Some future ftrain, in which the Mufe fhall tell
How Science dwindles, and how volumes fwell.
How commentators each dark passage shun,
And hold their farthing candle to the fun.

How tortur'd texts to speak our sense are made,
And every vice is to the Scripture laid.

How mifers fqueeze a young voluptuous peer;
His fins to LUCIFER not half fo dear.

How VERRES is lefs qualify'd to steal
With fword and pistol, than with wax and seal.
How lawyers' fees to fuch excess are run,
That clients are redress'd till they're undone.
How one man's anguifh is another's fport;
And ev'n denials coft us dear at court.

How man eternally false judgments makes,
And all his joys and forrows are mistakes.

This fwarm of themes that fettles on my pen,
Which I, like fummer flies, shake off again,
Let others fing; to whom my weak effay
But founds à prelude, and points out their prey :
That duty done, I haften to complete
My own defign; for TONSON's at the gate.

The love of Fame in its effect furvey'd,
The Mufe has fung; be now the cause display'd:
Since fo diffufive, and fo wide its sway,

What is this power, whom all mankind obey?

Shot from above, by heav'n's indulgence, came
This generous ardor, this unconquer'd flame,
To warm, to raise, to deify, mankind,

Still burning brightest in the nobleft mind.

By large-foul'd men, for thirst of fame renown'd,
Wife laws were fram'd, and facred arts were found;
Defire of praise first broke the patriot's rest;
And made a bulwark of the warrior's breast;
It bids ARGYLL in fields and fenates shine.
What more can prove its origin divine?

.

But, oh! this paffion planted in the foul,
On eagle's wings to mount her to the pole,
The flaming minister of virtue meant,
Set up falfe gods, and wrong'd her high descent.
AMBITION, hence, exerts a doubtful force,
Of blots, and beauties, an alternate source;
Hence GILDON rails, that raven of the pit,
Who thrives upon the carcafes of wit;
And in art-loving SCARBOROUGH is seen
How kind a pattern POLLIO might have been..
Pursuit of fame with pedants fills our schools,
And into coxcombs burnishes our fools ;
Pursuit of fame makes fclid learning bright,
And NEWTON lifts above a mortal height;
That key of nature, by whose wit she clears
Her long, long fecrets of five thousand years.

Would you then fully comprehend the whole,
Why, and in what degrees, pride fways the foul?
(For though in all, not equally, fhe reigns)
Awake to knowledge, and attend my ftrains.

Ye

Ye doctors! hear the doctrine I disclose,

As true, as if 'twere writ in dullest prose;
As if a letter'd dunce had faid, ""Tis right,"
And imprimatur ufher'd it to light.

AMBITION, in the truly noble mind,

With Sifter-virtue is for ever join'd;

As in fam'd LUCRECE, who, with equal dread,
From guilt, and fhame, by her laft conduct, fled:
Her virtue long rebell'd in firm disdain,
And the fword pointed at her heart in vain ;
But, when the flave was threaten'd to be laid
Dead by her fide, her Love of Fame obey'd.
In meaner minds ambition works alone;
But with fuch art puts virtue's aspect on,
That not more like in feature and in mien,

The God and mortal in the comic scene.
Falfe JULIUS, ambush'd in this fair disguise,
Soon made the Roman liberties his prize.

No mask in bafest minds ambition wears,
But in full light pricks up her afs's ears:
All I have fung are instances of this,
And prove my theme unfolded not amifs.

Ye vain! defift from your erroneous ftrife;
Be wife, and quit the false fublime of life,
The true ambition there alone resides,
Where justice vindicates, and wisdom guides;
Where in-ward dignity joins outward state;
Our purpose good, as our atchievement great;
Where public blessings public praise attend;
Where glory is our motive, not our end.

Would'st thou be fam'd? Have thofe high deeds in view Brave men would act, though fcandal should enfue.

* AMPHITRYON,

Behold

Behold a Prince! whom no fwoln thoughts inflame;
No pride of thrones, no fever after Fame!

But when the welfare of mankind inspires,
And death in view to dear-bought glory fires,
Proud conquefts then, then regal pomps delight;
Then crowns, then triumphs, sparkle in his fight;
Tumult and noise are dear, which with them bring
His people's bleffings to their ardent king:
But, when those great heroic motives cease,
His fwelling foul fubfides to native peace;
From tedious grandeur's faded charms withdraws,
A fudden foe to fplendor and applause;
Greatly deferring his arrears of fame,
Till men and angels jointly fhout his name.
O pride celeftial! which can pride disdain;
O bleft ambition! which can ne'er be vain.
From one fam'd Alpine hill, which props the sky,
In whose deep womb unfathom'd waters lie,
Here burst the Rhone, and founding Po; there shine,
In infant rills, the Danube and the Rhine;
From the rich store one fruitful urn supplies,
Whole kingdoms fmile, a thousand harvests rise.

In BRUNSWICK fuch a fource the Mufe adores,
Which public bleffings thro' half. Europe pours.
When his heart-burns with such a godlike aim,
Angels and GEORGE are rivals for the fame;
GEORGE! Who in foes can soft affections raise,
And charm envenom'd Satire into praise.

* Nor human rage alone his pow'r perceives, But the mad winds, and the tumultuous waves. Ev'n ftorms (death's fierceft minifters!) forbear, And, in their own wild empire, learn to fpare.

*The king in danger by sea.

Thus,

Thus, nature's felf, fupporting man's decree,
Stiles Britain's fovereign, fovereign of the fea.

While fea and air, great BRUNSWICK! shook our State,
And sported with a king's and kingdom's fate,
Depriv'd of what she lov'd, and prefs'd by fear,
Of ever lofing what she held most dear,

How did BRITANNIA, like * ACHILLES, weep,
And tell her forrows to the kindred deep!
Hang o'er the floods, and, in devotion warm,

Strive, for Thee, with the furge, and fight the storm!
What felt thy WALPOLE, pilot of the realm!

Our PALINURUS + flept not at the helm;

eye

His ne'er clos'd; long fince enur'd to wake,
And out-watch every ftar for BRUNSWICK's fake :
By thwarting paffions toft, by cares oppreft,

He found the tempeft pictur'd in his breast:

But, now, what joys that gloom of heart dispel,
No pow'rs of language-but his own, can tell;.
His own, which nature and the graces form,
At will, to raise, or hush, the civil ftorm.

HOм. Il. lib. I.

† Ecce Deus ramum Lethæo rore madentem, &c. VIRG. lib. V.

O DE,"