An Essay On Criticism Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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'Tis hard to say if greater Want of Skill	A
Appear in Writing or in Judging ill	A
But of the two less dang'rous is th' Offence	B
To tire our Patience than mis lead our Sense	B
Some few in that but Numbers err in this	B
Ten Censure wrong for one who Writes amiss	B
A Fool might once himself alone expose	B
Now One in Verse makes many more in Prose	B
	-
'Tis with our Judgments as our Watches none	C
Go just alike yet each believes his own	D
In Poets as true Genius is but rare	E
True Taste as seldom is the Critick's Share	E
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their Light	F
These born to Judge as well as those to Write	F
Let such teach others who themselves excell	A
And censure freely who have written well	A
Authors are partial to their Wit 'tis true	G
But are not Criticks to their Judgment too	G
	-
Yet if we look more closely we shall find	H
Most have the Seeds of Judgment in their Mind	H
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring Light	F
The Lines tho' touch'd but faintly are drawn right	F
But as the slightest Sketch if justly trac'd	I
Is by ill Colouring but the more disgrac'd	I
So by false Learning is good Sense defac'd	I
Some are bewilder'd in the Maze of Schools	B
And some made Coxcombs Nature meant but Fools	B
In search of Wit these lose their common Sense	B
And then turn Criticks in their own Defence	B
Each burns alike who can or cannot write	F
Or with a Rival's or an Eunuch's spite	F
All Fools have still an Itching to deride	J
And fain wou'd be upon the Laughing Side	J
If Maevius Scribble in Apollo's spight	F
There are who judge still worse than he can write	F
	-
Some have at first for Wits then Poets past	K
Turn'd Criticks next and prov'd plain Fools at last	K
Some neither can for Wits nor Criticks pass	B
As heavy Mules are neither Horse or Ass	B
Those half learn'd Witlings num'rous in our Isle	A
As half form'd Insects on the Banks of Nile	A
Unfinish'd Things one knows now what to call	A
Their Generation's so equivocal	A
To tell 'em wou'd a hundred Tongues require	L
Or one vain Wit's that might a hundred tire	L
	-
But you who seek to give and merit Fame	M
And justly bear a Critick's noble Name	M
Be sure your self and your own Reach to know	N
How far your Genius Taste and Learning go	N
Launch not beyond your Depth but be discreet	O
And mark that Point where Sense and Dulness meet	O
	-
Nature to all things fix'd the Limits fit	P
And wisely curb'd proud Man's pretending Wit	P
As on the Land while here the Ocean gains	B
In other Parts it leaves wide sandy Plains	B
Thus in the Soul while Memory prevails	B
The solid Pow'r of Understanding fails	B
Where Beams of warm Imagination play	A
The Memory's soft Figures melt away	A
One Science only will one Genius fit	P
So vast is Art so narrow Human Wit	P
Not only bounded to peculiar Arts	B
But oft in those confin'd to single Parts	B
Like Kings we lose the Conquests gain'd before	Q
By vain Ambition still to make them more	Q
Each might his sev'ral Province well command	R
Wou'd all but stoop to what they understand	R
	-
First follow NATURE and your Judgment frame	M
By her just Standard which is still the same	M
Unerring Nature still divinely bright	F
One clear unchang'd and Universal Light	F
Life Force and Beauty must to all impart	S
At once the Source and End and Test of Art	S
Art from that Fund each just Supply provides	B
Works without Show and without Pomp presides	B
In some fair Body thus th' informing Soul	A
With Spirits feeds with Vigour fills the whole	A
Each Motion guides and ev'ry Nerve sustains	B
It self unseen but in th' Effects remains	B
Some to whom Heav'n in Wit has been profuse	B
Want as much more to turn it to its use	B
For Wit and Judgment often are at strife	T
Tho' meant each other's Aid like Man and Wife	T
'Tis more to guide than spur the Muse's Steed	U
Restrain his Fury than provoke his Speed	U
The winged Courser like a gen'rous Horse	B
Shows most true Mettle when you check his Course	B
	-
Those RULES of old discover'd not devis'd	V
Are Nature still but Nature Methodiz'd	V
Nature like Liberty is but restrain'd	V
By the same Laws which first herself ordain'd	V
	-
Hear how learn'd Greece her useful Rules indites	B
When to repress and when indulge our Flights	B
High on Parnassus' Top her Sons she show'd	V
And pointed out those arduous Paths they trod	V
Held from afar aloft th' Immortal Prize	B
And urg'd the rest by equal Steps to rise	B
Just Precepts thus from great Examples giv'n	N
She drew from them what they deriv'd from Heav'n	N
The gen'rous Critick fann'd the Poet's Fire	L
And taught the World with Reason to Admire	W
Then Criticism the Muse's Handmaid prov'd	V
To dress her Charms and make her more belov'd	V
But following Wits from that Intention stray'd	V
Who cou'd not win the Mistress woo'd the Maid	V
Against the Poets their own Arms they turn'd	V
Sure to hate most the Men from whom they learn'd	V
So modern Pothecaries taught the Art	V
By Doctor's Bills to play the Doctor's Part	V
Bold in the Practice of mistaken Rules	B
Prescribe apply and call their Masters Fools	B
Some on the Leaves of ancient Authors prey	A
Nor Time nor Moths e'er spoil'd so much as they	A
Some dryly plain without Invention's Aid	V
Write dull Receits how Poems may be made	V
These leave the Sense their Learning to display	A
And theme explain the Meaning quite away	A
	-
You then whose Judgment the right Course wou'd steer	X
Know well each ANCIENT's proper Character	L
His Fable Subject Scope in ev'ry Page	Y
Religion Country Genius of his Age	Y
Without all these at once before your Eyes	B
Cavil you may but never Criticize	B
Be Homer's Works your Study and Delight	V
Read them by Day and meditate by Night	V
Thence form your Judgment thence your Maxims bring	Z
And trace the Muses upward to their Spring	Z
Still with It self compar'd his Text peruse	B
And let your Comment be the Mantuan Muse	B
	-
When first young Maro in his boundless Mind	V
A Work t' outlast Immortal Rome design'd	V
Perhaps he seem'd above the Critick's Law	A
And but from Nature's Fountains scorn'd to draw	A
But when t'examine ev'ry Part he came	M
Nature and Homer were he found the same	M
Convinc'd amaz'd he checks the bold Design	N
And Rules as strict his labour'd Work confine	N
As if the Stagyrite o'er looked each Line	N
Learn hence for Ancient Rules a just Esteem	A2
To copy Nature is to copy Them	B2
	-
Some Beauties yet no Precepts can declare	E
For there's a Happiness as well as Care	E
Musick resembles Poetry in each	C2
Are nameless Graces which no Methods teach	C2
And which a Master Hand alone can reach	C2
If where the Rules not far enough extend	V
Since Rules were made but to promote their End	V
Some Lucky LICENCE answers to the full	A
Th' Intent propos'd that Licence is a Rule	A
Thus Pegasus a nearer way to take	D2
May boldly deviate from the common Track	E2
Great Wits sometimes may gloriously offend	V
And rise to Faults true Criticks dare not mend	V
From vulgar Bounds with brave Disorder part	V
And snatch a Grace beyond the Reach of Art	V
Which without passing thro' the Judgment gains	B
The Heart and all its End at once attains	B
In Prospects thus some Objects please our Eyes	B
Which out of Nature's common Order rise	B
The shapeless Rock or hanging Precipice	B
But tho' the Ancients thus their Rules invade	V
As Kings dispense with Laws Themselves have made	V
Moderns beware Or if you must offend	V
Against the Precept ne'er transgress its End	V
Let it be seldom and compell'd by Need	V
And have at least Their Precedent to plead	V
The Critick else proceeds without Remorse	B
Seizes your Fame and puts his Laws in force	B
	-
I know there are to whose presumptuous Thoughts	B
Those Freer Beauties ev'n in Them seem Faults	B
Some Figures monstrous and mis shap'd appear	X
Consider'd singly or beheld too near	X
Which but proportion'd to their Light or Place	B
Due Distance reconciles to Form and Grace	B
A prudent Chief not always must display	A
His Pow'rs in equal Ranks and fair Array	A
But with th' Occasion and the Place comply	A
Conceal his Force nay seem sometimes to Fly	A
Those oft are Stratagems which Errors seem	A2
Nor is it Homer Nods but We that Dream	A2
	-
Still green with Bays each ancient Altar stands	B
Above the reach of Sacrilegious Hands	B
Secure from Flames from Envy's fiercer Rage	Y
Destructive War and all involving Age	Y
See from each Clime the Learn'd their Incense bring	Z
Hear in all Tongues consenting Paeans ring	Z
In Praise so just let ev'ry Voice be join'd	V
And fill the Gen'ral Chorus of Mankind	V
Hail Bards Triumphant born in happier Days	B
Immortal Heirs of Universal Praise	B
Whose Honours with Increase of Ages grow	N
As streams roll down enlarging as they flow	N
Nations unborn your mighty Names shall sound	V
And Worlds applaud that must not yet be found	V
Oh may some Spark of your Coelestial Fire	L
The last the meanest of your Sons inspire	W
That on weak Wings from far pursues your Flights	B
Glows while he reads but trembles as he writes	B
To teach vain Wits a Science little known	N
T' admire Superior Sense and doubt their own	N
	-
Of all the Causes which conspire to blind	V
Man's erring Judgment and misguide the Mind	V
What the weak Head with strongest Byass rules	B
Is Pride the never failing Vice of Fools	B
Whatever Nature has in Worth deny'd	V
She gives in large Recruits of needful Pride	V
For as in Bodies thus in Souls we find	V
What wants in Blood and Spirits swell'd with Wind	V
Pride where Wit fails steps in to our Defence	B
And fills up all the mighty Void of Sense	B
If once right Reason drives that Cloud away	A
Truth breaks upon us with resistless Day	A
Trust not your self but your Defects to know	N
Make use of ev'ry Friend and ev'ry Foe	N
	-
A little Learning is a dang'rous Thing	Z
Drink deep or taste not the Pierian Spring	Z
There shallow Draughts intoxicate the Brain	N
And drinking largely sobers us again	N
Fir'd at first Sight with what the Muse imparts	B
In fearless Youth we tempt the Heights of Arts	B
While from the bounded Level of our Mind	V
Short Views we take nor see the lengths behind	V
But more advanc'd behold with strange Surprize	B
New distant Scenes of endless Science rise	B
So pleas'd at first the towring Alps we try	A
Mount o'er the Vales and seem to tread the Sky	A
Th' Eternal Snows appear already past	V
And the first Clouds and Mountains seem the last	V
But those attain'd we tremble to survey	A
The growing Labours of the lengthen'd Way	A
Th' increasing Prospect tires our wandering Eyes	B
Hills peep o'er Hills and Alps on Alps arise	B
	-
A perfect Judge will read each Work of Wit	V
With the same Spirit that its Author writ	V
Survey the Whole nor seek slight Faults to find	V
Where Nature moves and Rapture warms the Mind	V
Nor lose for that malignant dull Delight	V
The gen'rous Pleasure to be charm'd with Wit	V
But in such Lays as neither ebb nor flow	N
Correctly cold and regularly low	N
That shunning Faults one quiet Tenour keep	F2
We cannot blame indeed but we may sleep	F2
In Wit as Nature what affects our Hearts	B
Is nor th' Exactness of peculiar Parts	B
'Tis not a Lip or Eye we Beauty call	A
But the joint Force and full Result of all	A
Thus when we view some well proportion'd Dome	G2
The World's just Wonder and ev'n thine O Rome	G2
No single Parts unequally surprize	B
All comes united to th' admiring Eyes	B
No monstrous Height or Breadth or Length appear	X
The Whole at once is Bold and Regular	L
	-
Whoever thinks a faultless Piece to see	B
Thinks what ne'er was nor is nor e'er shall be	B
In ev'ry Work regard the Writer's End	V
Since none can compass more than they Intend	V
And if the Means be just the Conduct true	G
Applause in spite of trivial Faults is due	G
As Men of Breeding sometimes Men of Wit	V
T' avoid great Errors must the less commit	V
Neglect the Rules each Verbal Critick lays	B
For not to know some Trifles is a Praise	B
Most Criticks fond of some subservient Art	V
Still make the Whole depend upon a Part	V
They talk of Principles but Notions prize	B
And All to one lov'd Folly Sacrifice	B
	-
Once on a time La Mancha's Knight they say	B
A certain Bard encountring on the Way	B
Discours'd in Terms as just with Looks as Sage	Y
As e'er cou'd Dennis of the Grecian Stage	Y
Concluding all were desp'rate Sots and Fools	B
Who durst depart from Aristotle's Rules	B
Our Author happy in a Judge so nice	B
Produc'd his Play and beg'd the Knight's Advice	B
Made him observe the Subject and the Plot	V
The Manners Passions Unities what not	V
All which exact to Rule were brought about	V
Were but a Combate in the Lists left out	V
What Leave the Combate out Exclaims the Knight	V
Yes or we must renounce the Stagyrite	V
Not so by Heav'n he answers in a Rage	Y
Knights Squires and Steeds must enter on the Stage	Y
So vast a Throng the Stage can ne'er contain	N
Then build a New or act it in a Plain	N
	-
Thus Criticks of less Judgment than Caprice	B
Curious not Knowing not exact but nice	B
Form short Ideas and offend in Arts	B
As most in Manners by a Love to Parts	B
	-
Some to Conceit alone their Taste confine	N
And glitt'ring Thoughts struck out at ev'ry Line	N
Pleas'd with a Work where nothing's just or fit	V
One glaring Chaos and wild Heap of Wit	V
Poets like Painters thus unskill'd to trace	B
The naked Nature and the living Grace	B
With Gold and Jewels cover ev'ry Part	V
And hide with Ornaments their Want of Art	V
True Wit is Nature to Advantage drest	V
What oft was Thought but ne'er so well Exprest	V
Something whose Truth convinc'd at Sight we find	V
That gives us back the Image of our Mind	V
As Shades more sweetly recommend the Light	V
So modest Plainness sets off sprightly Wit	V
For Works may have more Wit than does 'em good	V
As Bodies perish through Excess of Blood	V
	-
Others for Language all their Care express	B
And value Books as Women Men for Dress	B
Their Praise is still The Stile is excellent	V
The Sense they humbly take upon Content	V
Words are like Leaves and where they most abound	V
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found	V
False Eloquence like the Prismatic Glass	B
Its gawdy Colours spreads on ev'ry place	B
The Face of Nature was no more Survey	B
All glares alike without Distinction gay	B
But true Expression like th' unchanging Sun	N
Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon	N
It gilds all Objects but it alters none	N
Expression is the Dress of Thought and still	A
Appears more decent as more suitable	A
A vile Conceit in pompous Words exprest	V
Is like a Clown in regal Purple drest	V
For diff'rent Styles with diff'rent Subjects sort	V
As several Garbs with Country Town and Court	V
Some by Old Words to Fame have made Pretence	B
Ancients in Phrase meer Moderns in their Sense	B
Such labour'd Nothings in so strange a Style	A
Amaze th'unlearn'd and make the Learned Smile	A
Unlucky as Fungoso in the Play	B
These Sparks with aukward Vanity display	B
What the Fine Gentleman wore Yesterday	B
And but so mimick ancient Wits at best	V
As Apes our Grandsires in their Doublets treat	V
In Words as Fashions the same Rule will hold	V
Alike Fantastick if too New or Old	V
Be not the first by whom the New are try'd	V
Nor yet the last to lay the Old aside	V
	-
But most by Numbers judge a Poet's Song	H2
And smooth or rough with them is right or wrong	H2
In the bright Muse tho' thousand Charms conspire	L
Her Voice is all these tuneful Fools admire	W
Who haunt Parnassus but to please their Ear	I2
Not mend their Minds as some to Church repair	E
Not for the Doctrine but the Musick there	E
These Equal Syllables alone require	L
Tho' oft the Ear the open Vowels tire	L
While Expletives their feeble Aid do join	N
And ten low Words oft creep in one dull Line	N
While they ring round the same unvary'd Chimes	B
With sure Returns of still expected Rhymes	B
Where e'er you find the cooling Western Breeze	B
In the next Line it whispers thro' the Trees	B
If Chrystal Streams with pleasing Murmurs creep	F2
The Reader's threaten'd not in vain with Sleep	F2
Then at the last and only Couplet fraught	V
With some unmeaning Thing they call a Thought	V
A needless Alexandrine ends the Song	H2
That like a wounded Snake drags its slow length along	H2
Leave such to tune their own dull Rhimes and know	N
What's roundly smooth or languishingly slow	N
And praise the Easie Vigor of a Line	N
Where Denham's Strength and Waller's Sweetness join	N
True Ease in Writing comes from Art not Chance	B
As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance	B
'Tis not enough no Harshness gives Offence	B
The Sound must seem an Eccho to the Sense	B
Soft is the Strain when Zephyr gently blows	B
And the smooth Stream in smoother Numbers flows	B
But when loud Surges lash the sounding Shore	Q
The hoarse rough Verse shou'd like the Torrent roar	Q
When Ajax strives some Rocks' vast Weight to throw	N
The Line too labours and the Words move slow	N
Not so when swift Camilla scours the Plain	N
Flies o'er th'unbending Corn and skims along the Main	N
Hear how Timotheus' vary'd Lays surprize	B
And bid Alternate Passions fall and rise	B
While at each Change the Son of Lybian Jove	B
Now burns with Glory and then melts with Love	B
Now his fierce Eyes with sparkling Fury glow	N
Now Sighs steal out and Tears begin to flow	N
Persians and Greeks like Turns of Nature found	V
And the World's Victor stood subdu'd by Sound	V
The Pow'rs of Musick all our Hearts allow	A
And what Timotheus was is Dryden now	A
	-
Avoid Extreams and shun the Fault of such	J2
Who still are pleas'd too little or too much	J2
At ev'ry Trifle scorn to take Offence	B
That always shows Great Pride or Little Sense	B
Those Heads as Stomachs are not sure the best	V
Which nauseate all and nothing can digest	V
Yet let not each gay Turn thy Rapture move	B
For Fools Admire but Men of Sense Approve	B
As things seem large which we thro' Mists descry	N
Dulness is ever apt to Magnify	B
	-
Some foreign Writers some our own despise	B
The Ancients only or the Moderns prize	B
Thus Wit like Faith by each Man is apply'd	V
To one small Sect and All are damn'd beside	V
Meanly they seek the Blessing to confine	N
And force that Sun but on a Part to Shine	N
Which not alone the Southern Wit sublimes	B
But ripens Spirits in cold Northern Climes	B
Which from the first has shone on Ages past	V
Enlights the present and shall warm the last	V
Tho' each may feel Increases and Decays	B
And see now clearer and now darker Days	B
Regard not then if Wit be Old or New	G
But blame the False and value still the True	G
	-
Some ne'er advance a Judgment of their own	N
But catch the spreading Notion of the Town	N
They reason and conclude by Precedent	V
And own stale Nonsense which they ne'er invent	V
Some judge of Authors' Names not Works and then	N
Nor praise nor blame the Writings but the Men	N
Of all this Servile Herd the worst is He	B
That in proud Dulness joins with Quality	B
A constant Critick at the Great man's Board	V
To fetch and carry Nonsense for my Lord	V
What woful stuff this Madrigal wou'd be	B
To some starv'd Hackny Sonneteer or me	B
But let a Lord once own the happy Lines	B
How the Wit brightens How the Style refines	B
Before his sacred Name flies ev'ry Fault	V
And each exalted Stanza teems with Thought	V
	-
The Vulgar thus through Imitation err	N
As oft the Learn'd by being Singular	N
So much they scorn the Crowd that if the Throng	H2
By Chance go right they purposely go wrong	H2
So Schismatics the plain Believers quit	V
And are but damn'd for having too much Wit	V
	-
Some praise at Morning what they blame at Night	V
But always think the last Opinion right	V
A Muse by these is like a Mistress us'd	V
This hour she's idoliz'd the next abus'd	V
While their weak Heads like Towns unfortify'd	V
'Twixt Sense and Nonsense daily change their Side	V
Ask them the Cause They're wiser still they say	B
And still to Morrow's wiser than to Day	B
We think our Fathers Fools so wise we grow	N
Our wiser Sons no doubt will think us so	N
Once School Divines this zealous Isle o'erspread	B
Who knew most Sentences was deepest read	B
Faith Gospel All seem'd made to be disputed	B
And none had Sense enough to be Confuted	B
Scotists and Thomists now in Peace remain	N
Amidst their kindred Cobwebs in Duck Lane	N
If Faith it self has diff'rent Dresses worn	N
What wonder Modes in Wit shou'd take their Turn	N
Oft leaving what is Natural and fit	B
The current Folly proves the ready Wit	B
And Authors think their Reputation safe	B
Which lives as long as Fools are pleas'd to Laugh	B
	-
Some valuing those of their own Side or Mind	B
Still make themselves the measure of Mankind	B
Fondly we think we honour Merit then	N
When we but praise Our selves in Other Men	N
Parties in Wit attend on those of State	B
And publick Faction doubles private Hate	B
Pride Malice Folly against Dryden rose	B
In various Shapes of Parsons Criticks Beaus	B
But Sense surviv'd when merry Jests were past	B
For rising Merit will buoy up at last	B
Might he return and bless once more our Eyes	B
New Blackmores and new Milbourns must arise	B
Nay shou'd great Homer lift his awful Head	B
Zoilus again would start up from the Dead	B
Envy will Merit as its Shade pursue	B
But like a Shadow proves the Substance true	B
For envy'd Wit like Sol Eclips'd makes known	N
Th' opposing Body's Grossness not its own	N
When first that Sun too powerful Beams displays	B
It draws up Vapours which obscure its Rays	B
But ev'n those Clouds at last adorn its Way	B
Reflect new Glories and augment the Day	B
	-
Be thou the first true Merit to befriend	B
His Praise is lost who stays till All commend	B
Short is the Date alas of Modern Rhymes	B
And 'tis but just to let 'em live betimes	B
No longer now that Golden Age appears	B
When Patriarch Wits surviv'd thousand Years	B
Now Length of Fame our second Life is lost	B
And bare Threescore is all ev'n That can boast	B
Our Sons their Fathers' failing language see	B
And such as Chaucer is shall Dryden be	B
So when the faithful Pencil has design'd	B
Some bright Idea of the Master's Mind	B
Where a new World leaps out at his command	B
And ready Nature waits upon his Hand	B
When the ripe Colours soften and unite	B
And sweetly melt into just Shade and Light	B
When mellowing Years their full Perfection give	B
And each Bold Figure just begins to Live	B
The treach'rous Colours the fair Art betray	B
And all the bright Creation fades away	B
	-
Unhappy Wit like most mistaken Things	B
Attones not for that Envy which it brings	B
In Youth alone its empty Praise we boast	B
But soon the Short liv'd Vanity is lost	B
Like some fair Flow'r the early Spring supplies	B
That gaily Blooms but ev'n in blooming Dies	B
What is this Wit which must our Cares employ	A
The Owner's Wife that other Men enjoy	A
Then most our Trouble still when most admir'd	B
And still the more we give the more requir'd	B
Whose Fame with Pains we guard but lose with Ease	B
Sure some to vex but never all to please	B
'Tis what the Vicious fear the Virtuous shun	N
By Fools 'tis hated and by Knaves undone	N
	-
If Wit so much from Ign'rance undergo	N
Ah let not Learning too commence its Foe	N
Of old those met Rewards who cou'd excel	A
And such were Prais'd who but endeavour'd well	A
Tho' Triumphs were to Gen'rals only due	B
Crowns were reserv'd to grace the Soldiers too	B
Now they who reached Parnassus' lofty Crown	N
Employ their Pains to spurn some others down	N
And while Self Love each jealous Writer rules	B
Contending Wits becomes the Sport of Fools	B
But still the Worst with most Regret commend	B
For each Ill Author is as bad a Friend	B
To what base Ends and by what abject Ways	B
Are Mortals urg'd thro' Sacred Lust of praise	B
Ah ne'er so dire a Thirst of Glory boast	B
Nor in the Critick let the Man be lost	B
Good Nature and Good Sense must ever join	N
To err is Humane to Forgive Divine	N
	-
But if in Noble Minds some Dregs remain	N
Not yet purg'd off of Spleen and sow'r Disdain	N
Discharge that Rage on more Provoking Crimes	B
Nor fear a Dearth in these Flagitious Times	B
No Pardon vile Obscenity should find	B
Tho' Wit and Art conspire to move your Mind	B
But Dulness with Obscenity must prove	B
As Shameful sure as Importance in Love	B
In the fat Age of Pleasure Wealth and Ease	B
Sprung the rank Weed and thriv'd with large Increase	B
When Love was all an easie Monarch's Care	N
Seldom at Council never in a War	N
Jilts rul'd the State and Statesmen Farces writ	B
Nay Wits had Pensions and young Lords had Wit	B
The Fair sate panting at a Courtier's Play	B
And not a Mask went un improv'd away	B
The modest Fan was liked up no more	N
And Virgins smil'd at what they blush'd before	N
The following Licence of a Foreign Reign	N
Did all the Dregs of bold Socinus drain	N
Then Unbelieving Priests reform'd the Nation	N
And taught more Pleasant Methods of Salvation	N
Where Heav'ns Free Subjects might their Rights dispute	B
Lest God himself shou'd seem too Absolute	B
Pulpits their Sacred Satire learn'd to spare	N
And Vice admir'd to find a Flatt'rer there	N
Encourag'd thus Witt's Titans brav'd the Skies	B
And the Press groan'd with Licenc'd Blasphemies	B
These Monsters Criticks with your Darts engage	Y
Here point your Thunder and exhaust your Rage	Y
Yet shun their Fault who Scandalously nice	B
Will needs mistake an Author into Vice	B
All seems Infected that th' Infected spy	B
As all looks yellow to the Jaundic'd Eye	B
	-
LEARN then what MORALS Criticks ought to show	N
For 'tis but half a Judge's Task to Know	N
'Tis not enough Taste Judgment Learning join	N
In all you speak let Truth and Candor shine	N
That not alone what to your Sense is due	B
All may allow but seek your Friendship too	B
	-
Be silent always when you doubt your Sense	B
And speak tho' sure with seeming Diffidence	B
Some positive persisting Fops we know	N
Who if once wrong will needs be always so	N
But you with Pleasure own your Errors past	B
An make each Day a Critick on the last	B
	-
'Tis not enough your Counsel still be true	B
Blunt Truths more Mischief than nice Falsehood do	B
Men must be taught as if you taught them not	B
And Things unknown propos'd as Things forgot	B
Without Good Breeding Truth is disapprov'd	B
That only makes Superior Sense belov'd	B
	-
Be Niggards of Advice on no Pretence	N
For the worst Avarice is that of Sense	N
With mean Complacence ne'er betray your Trust	B
Nor be so Civil as to prove Unjust	B
Fear not the Anger of the Wise to raise	N
Those best can bear Reproof who merit Praise	N
	-
'Twere well might Criticks still this Freedom take	D2
But Appius reddens at each Word you speak	K2
And stares Tremendous with a threatning Eye	B
Like some fierce Tyrant in Old Tapestry	B
Fear most to tax an Honourable Fool	A
Whose Right it is uncensur'd to be dull	A
Such without Wit are Poets when they please	N
As without Learning they can take Degrees	N
Leave dang'rous Truths to unsuccessful Satyrs	N
And Flattery to fulsome Dedicators	N
Whom when they Praise the World believes no more	N
Than when they promise to give Scribling o'er	N
'Tis best sometimes your Censure to restrain	N
And charitably let the Dull be vain	N
Your Silence there is better than your Spite	B
For who can rail so long as they can write	B
Still humming on their drowzy Course they keep	F2
And lash'd so long like Tops are lash'd asleep	F2
False Steps but help them to renew the Race	N
As after Stumbling Jades will mend their Pace	N
What Crouds of these impenitently bold	B
In Sounds and jingling Syllables grown old	B
Still run on Poets in a raging Vein	N
Ev'n to the Dregs and Squeezings of the Brain	N
Strain out the last dull droppings of their Sense	N
And Rhyme with all the Rage of Impotence	N
	-
Such shameless Bards we have and yet 'tis true	B
There are as mad abandon'd Criticks too	B
The Bookful Blockhead ignorantly read	B
With Loads of Learned Lumber in his Head	B
With his own Tongue still edifies his Ears	N
And always List'ning to Himself appears	N
All Books he reads and all he reads assails	N
From Dryden's Fables down to Durfey's Tales	N
With him most Authors steal their Works or buy	B
Garth did not write his own Dispensary	B
Name a new Play and he's the Poet's Friend	B
Nay show'd his Faults but when wou'd Poets mend	B
No Place so Sacred from such Fops is barr'd	B
Nor is Paul's Church more safe than Paul's Church yard	B
Nay fly to Altars there they'll talk you dead	B
For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread	B
Distrustful Sense with modest Caution speaks	N
It still looks home and short Excursions makes	N
But ratling Nonsense in full Vollies breaks	N
And never shock'd and never turn'd aside	B
Bursts out resistless with a thundering Tyde	B
	-
But where's the Man who Counsel can bestow	B
Still pleas'd to teach and not proud to know	B
Unbiass'd or by Favour or by Spite	B
Not dully prepossest nor blindly right	B
Tho' Learn'd well bred and tho' well bred sincere	N
Modestly bold and Humanly severe	N
Who to a Friend his Faults can freely show	B
And gladly praise the Merit of a Foe	B
Blest with a Taste exact yet unconfin'd	B
A Knowledge both of Books and Humankind	B
Gen'rous Converse a Sound exempt from Pride	B
And Love to Praise with Reason on his Side	B
	-
Such once were Criticks such the Happy Few	B
Athens and Rome in better Ages knew	B
The mighty Stagyrite first left the Shore	N
Spread all his Sails and durst the Deeps explore	N
He steer'd securely and discover'd far	N
Led by the Light of the Maeonian Star	N
Poets a Race long unconfin'd and free	B
Still fond and proud of Savage Liberty	B
Receiv'd his Laws and stood convinc'd 'twas fit	B
Who conquer'd Nature shou'd preside o'er Wit	B
	-
Horace still charms with graceful Negligence	N
And without Method talks us into Sense	N
Will like a Friend familarly convey	B
The truest Notions in the easiest way	B
He who Supream in Judgment as in Wit	B
Might boldly censure as he boldly writ	B
Yet judg'd with Coolness tho' he sung with Fire	N
His Precepts teach but what his Works inspire	N
Our Criticks take a contrary Extream	B
They judge with Fury but they write with Fle'me	B
Nor suffers Horace more in wrong Translations	N
By Wits than Criticks in as wrong Quotations	N
	-
See Dionysius Homer's Thoughts refine	N
And call new Beauties forth from ev'ry Line	N
	-
Fancy and Art in gay Petronius please	N
The Scholar's Learning with the Courtier's Ease	N
	-
In grave Quintilian's copious Work we find	B
The justest Rules and clearest Method join'd	B
Thus useful Arms in Magazines we place	N
All rang'd in Order and dispos'd with Grace	N
But less to please the Eye than arm the Hand	B
Still fit for Use and ready at Command	B
	-
Thee bold Longinus all the Nine inspire	N
And bless their Critick with a Poet's Fire	N
An ardent Judge who Zealous in his Trust	B
With Warmth gives Sentence yet is always Just	B
Whose own Example strengthens all his Laws	N
And Is himself that great Sublime he draws	N
	-
Thus long succeeding Criticks justly reign'd	B
Licence repress'd and useful Laws ordain'd	B
Learning and Rome alike in Empire grew	B
And Arts still follow'd where her Eagles flew	B
From the same Foes at last both felt their Doom	B
And the same Age saw Learning fall and Rome	B
With Tyranny then Superstition join'd	B
As that the Body this enslav'd the Mind	B
Much was Believ'd but little understood	B
And to be dull was constru'd to be good	B
A second Deluge Learning thus o'er run	N
And the Monks finish'd what the Goths begun	N
	-
At length Erasmus that great injur'd Name	B
The Glory of the Priesthood and the Shame	B
Stemm'd the wild Torrent of a barb'rous Age	Y
And drove those Holy Vandals off the Stage	Y
	-
But see each Muse in Leo's Golden Days	N
Starts from her Trance and trims her wither'd Bays	N
Rome's ancient Genius o'er its Ruins spread	B
Shakes off the Dust and rears his rev'rend Head	B
Then Sculpture and her Sister Arts revive	B
Stones leap'd to Form and Rocks began to live	B
With sweeter Notes each rising Temple rung	L2
A Raphael painted and a Vida sung	L2
Immortal Vida on whose honour'd Brow	N
The Poet's Bays and Critick's Ivy grow	B
Cremona now shall ever boast thy Name	B
As next in Place to Mantua next in Fame	B
	-
But soon by Impious Arms from Latium chas'd	B
Their ancient Bounds the banish'd Muses past	B
Thence Arts o'er all the Northern World advance	N
But Critic Learning flourish'd most in France	N
The Rules a Nation born to serve obeys	N
And Boileau still in Right of Horace sways	N
But we brave Britons Foreign Laws despis'd	B
And kept unconquer'd and unciviliz'd	B
Fierce for the Liberties of Wit and bold	B
We still defy'd the Romans as of old	B
Yet some there were among the sounder Few	B
Of those who less presum'd and better knew	B
Who durst assert the juster Ancient Cause	N
And here restor'd Wit's Fundamental Laws	N
Such was the Muse whose Rules and Practice tell	A
Nature's chief Master piece is writing well	A
Such was Roscomon not more learn'd than good	B
With Manners gen'rous as his Noble Blood	B
To him the Wit of Greece and Rome was known	N
And ev'ry Author's Merit but his own	N
Such late was Walsh the Muse's Judge and Friend	B
Who justly knew to blame or to commend	B
To Failings mild but zealous for Desert	B
The clearest Head and the sincerest Heart	B
This humble Praise lamented Shade receive	B
This Praise at least a grateful Muse may give	B
The Muse whose early Voice you taught to Sing	Z
Prescrib'd her Heights and prun'd her tender Wing	Z
Her Guide now lost no more attempts to rise	N
But in low Numbers short Excursions tries	N
Content if hence th' Unlearned their Wants may view	B
The Learn'd reflect on what before they knew	B
Careless of Censure not too fond of Fame	B
Still pleas'd to praise yet not afraid to blame	B
Averse alike to Flatter or Offend	B
Not free from Faults nor yet too vain to mend	B

Alexander Pope

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