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 |  |
In Verse, how lofty is a curling Spire?
Yet all must own the frighted Sky much high'r.
A Silver Soumd, tho' not, perhaps, uncouth,
Is common, and in e'ery Fidler's Mouth.
An awkward Grace, is something very rare,
Like a fine Cursey from a dancing Bear.
A nectar'd Urn, may signify a Bowl
Of Punch, or of some richer Liquor full,
Such as our Durgen drinks, to reinspire
His lab'ring Muse, when she begins to tire.
But as for Adamantine Lungs, ads death,
A Man would wonder how they draw their Breath.
Apollo's Sons, must own, these Diamond Lights
Deserve to be esteem'd the Flight of Flights.
Next, a Vermilian Prore we must allow,
Sounds better far, than a red painted Prow;
Tho' such a Term as Prore was never heard
On board of Ship, or in a Builder's Yard.
What then, in Epick-Verse it may be good,
And pass admir'd, because not understood.
A self-mov'd Tripod, is a wond'rous piece
Of Art, unknown to either Rome or Greece,
But, English Poets, who in fancy climb
Thro' fleeting Clouds, in quest of the Sublime,
May cause, assisted by the heav'nly Pow'rs,
A threefoot Stool to crawl upon all-fours.
But his Ambrosial Curl, is still more new,
And puzzles all the Peruke-making Crew;
They cannot find, tho' skill'd in crooked Hairs,
What sort of Curls the Gods Ambrosia bears:
Would our great Bard this secret but disclose,
Our Barbers would contrive new Wigs for Beaus;
Rats-tails and Bobs no longer should be worn,
But fine ambrosial Curls their Heads adorn.
Yet all must own the frighted Sky much high'r.
A Silver Soumd, tho' not, perhaps, uncouth,
Is common, and in e'ery Fidler's Mouth.
An awkward Grace, is something very rare,
Like a fine Cursey from a dancing Bear.
A nectar'd Urn, may signify a Bowl
Of Punch, or of some richer Liquor full,
Such as our Durgen drinks, to reinspire
His lab'ring Muse, when she begins to tire.
But as for Adamantine Lungs, ads death,
A Man would wonder how they draw their Breath.
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Deserve to be esteem'd the Flight of Flights.
Next, a Vermilian Prore we must allow,
Sounds better far, than a red painted Prow;
Tho' such a Term as Prore was never heard
On board of Ship, or in a Builder's Yard.
What then, in Epick-Verse it may be good,
And pass admir'd, because not understood.
A self-mov'd Tripod, is a wond'rous piece
Of Art, unknown to either Rome or Greece,
But, English Poets, who in fancy climb
Thro' fleeting Clouds, in quest of the Sublime,
May cause, assisted by the heav'nly Pow'rs,
A threefoot Stool to crawl upon all-fours.
But his Ambrosial Curl, is still more new,
And puzzles all the Peruke-making Crew;
They cannot find, tho' skill'd in crooked Hairs,
What sort of Curls the Gods Ambrosia bears:
Would our great Bard this secret but disclose,
Our Barbers would contrive new Wigs for Beaus;
27
But fine ambrosial Curls their Heads adorn.
| Durgen | |