Three thousand suns went down on _Welsted's_ lie.

To please a Mistress one aspers'd his life; He lash'd him not, but let her be his wife. 375 Let _Budgel_ charge low _Grubstreet_ on his quill, And write whate'er he pleas'd, except his Will; Let the two _Curlls_ of Town and Court, abuse His father, mother, body, soul, and muse.

Yet why? that Father held it for a rule, 380 It was a sin to call our neighbour fool: That harmless Mother thought no wife a wh.o.r.e: Hear this, and spare his family, _James Moore!_ Unspotted names, and memorable long!

If there be force in Virtue, or in Song. 385

Of gentle blood (part shed in Honour's cause.

While yet in _Britain_ Honour had applause) Each parent sprung--A. What fortune, pray?--P. Their own, And better got, than _Bestia's_ from the throne.

Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife, 390 Nor marrying Discord in a n.o.ble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age.

Nor Courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an Oath, nor hazarded a Lie. 395 Un-learn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art, No language, but the language of the heart.

By Nature honest, by Experience wise, Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise; His life, tho' long, to sickness past unknown, 400 His death was instant, and without a groan.

O grant me, thus to live, and thus to die!

Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy than I.

O Friend! may each domestic bliss be thine!

Be no unpleasing Melancholy mine: 405 Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of reposing Age, With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath, Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, 410 And keep a while one parent from the sky!

On cares like these if length of days attend, May Heav'n, to bless those days, preserve my friend, Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene, And just as rich as when he serv'd a QUEEN. 415 A. Whether that blessing be deny'd or giv'n, Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n.

ODE ON SOLITUDE

Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, 5 Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, 10 In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixt; sweet recreation; And Innocence, which most does please 15 With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. 20

THE DESCENT OF DULLNESS

[From the 'Dunciad', Book IV]

In vain, in vain--the all-composing Hour Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the Pow'r.

She comes! she comes! the sable Throne behold Of _Night_ primaeval and of _Chaos_ old!

Before her, _Fancy's_ gilded clouds decay, 5 And all its varying Rain-bows die away.

_Wit_ shoots in vain its momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.

As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain; 10 As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest, Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, _Art_ after _Art_ goes out, and all is Night.

See skulking _Truth_ to her old cavern fled, 15 Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head!

_Philosophy_, that lean'd on Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.

_Physic_ of _Metaphysic_ begs defence, And _Metaphysic_ calls for aid on _Sense_! 20 See _Mystery_ to _Mathematics_ fly!

In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.

_Religion_ blushing veils her sacred fires, And unawares _Morality_ expires.

For _public_ Flame, nor _private_, dares to shine; 25 Nor _human_ Spark is left, nor Glimpse _divine_!

Lo! thy dread Empire, CHAOS! is restor'd; Light dies before thy uncreating word; Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall, And universal Darkness buries All. 30

ON MR. GAY

IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 1732

Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild; In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child: With native Humour temp'ring virtuous Rage, Form'd to delight at once and lash the age: Above Temptation, in a low Estate, 5 And uncorrupted, ev'n among the Great: A safe Companion, and an easy Friend, Unblam'd thro' Life, lamented in thy End.

These are Thy Honours! not that here thy Bust Is mix'd with Heroes, or with Kings thy dust; 10 But that the Worthy and the Good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms--_Here_ lies GAY.

NOTES

THE RAPE OF THE LOCK