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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He's bless'd with a kind Muse that never tires;
Skill'd in all antient Tongues, and modern Arts,
A prodigy in Person, and in Parts;
A half-bred Deity, made up of Thought,
A something, but no mortal Man knows what;
A living Chaos, whose prolifick Brain,
Does e'ery thing in miniature contain;
Has Wit at Will, and is, without dispute,
A wondrous Creature, neither Man nor Brute;
Who, to delight himself, and vex the Town,
Spent twice three Years in writing one Lampoon;
And, if no Rival does his Scheme defeat,
Will waste six more to make the work compleat;
A task, that when it's finish'd, must command
Laudative Poems from each skilful Hand,
Especially each poor neglected Muse,
His gen'rous Satyr does so kindly use,
Forgetful of the hard unhappy fate
Of Poets more sublime, and Wits more great,
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And stifle Conscience for the sake of Bread,
Slander the living, with a spightful Pen,
And prostitute the Fame of worthy Men,
So the proud Cit, possess'd of an Estate,
For nothing good, tho' worshipfully Great,
Triumphs o'er Dealers of a low Degree,
More honest, tho' less prosperous than he.
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