 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
336
To the Author of STANZA's, On Reading the DUNCIAD.
I
How dreadful were the World's Alarms,When Bards, an irritable Race,
Discordant, fiercely flew to Arms,
And broke the Muses' publick Peace!
II
Mankind, confounded with the DinnOf Battle, waited for the Day,
When Neutral Pow'rs wou'd once begin
A Congress, to conclude the Fray.
337
III
But Hope was vain from mortal Hand—No Means cou'd either Army quell,
'Till thou, at once, didst both disband,
And Helter Skelter drive to Hell.
IV
While wallowing in the vast Profound,Alike for Swine and Devils fit!
They meet, condemn'd; may'st thou be crown'd
The Great Deliverer of Wit.
V
Henceforth, let Poesie, and Peace,Adown Parnassus, pour their Stream;
Nor may one of the Muse's Race
Receive, till Merit gives him Fame.
338
VI
May Helicon no more a MireBe seen, like fatal, foul, Fleetditch,
Fitter to choak, than to inspire
Men, curst with the Poetick Itch!
| Poems on Several Occasions | |