Durgen Or, A Plain Satyr upon a Pompous Satyrist. Amicably Inscrib'd, by the Author, to those Worthy and Ingenious Gentlemen misrepresented in a late invective Poem, call'd, The Dunciad [by Edward Ward] |
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 | Durgen |  |
Some Poets blend their parts with so much spight,
That if they did not rail, they could not write;
And never think themselves so highly blest,
As when they're squirting Libels at the rest:
Thus, as implacable as Gnats and Fleas,
They're always biting, and a constant tease;
With groundless Scandal do their Brains debauch,
And know no other Wit, than to reproach;
In Dunghills rake, where Mens past Follies lie,
And spightfully revive what ought to die;
Improve bad Actions, pretermit the good,
And on the World false Characters obtrude;
Varnish o'er great Mens Faults, for little Gains,
And wound the Worthy with their pois'nous Pens,
To please, for slender pay, some angry Foe,
A cast-off Mistress, or disgusted Beau,
Perhaps a flatt'ring Minion, out of date,
That wants the Courage to revenge his hate,
And, therefore, fearing to unsheath his Sword,
Deludes some hungry Rhimer for Reward,
To ease the rancour, boiling in his Brain,
By stabing some great Rival with his Pen:
Thus, do lampooning Wits delight to Sport,
Like, thriving Swine, in Nastiness and Dirt,
And suck from other's Filth a scandalous Support.
That if they did not rail, they could not write;
And never think themselves so highly blest,
As when they're squirting Libels at the rest:
Thus, as implacable as Gnats and Fleas,
They're always biting, and a constant tease;
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And know no other Wit, than to reproach;
In Dunghills rake, where Mens past Follies lie,
And spightfully revive what ought to die;
Improve bad Actions, pretermit the good,
And on the World false Characters obtrude;
Varnish o'er great Mens Faults, for little Gains,
And wound the Worthy with their pois'nous Pens,
To please, for slender pay, some angry Foe,
A cast-off Mistress, or disgusted Beau,
Perhaps a flatt'ring Minion, out of date,
That wants the Courage to revenge his hate,
And, therefore, fearing to unsheath his Sword,
Deludes some hungry Rhimer for Reward,
To ease the rancour, boiling in his Brain,
By stabing some great Rival with his Pen:
Thus, do lampooning Wits delight to Sport,
Like, thriving Swine, in Nastiness and Dirt,
And suck from other's Filth a scandalous Support.
| Durgen | |