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 |  |
Be kind to Merit, wheresoe'er 'tis found,
And show regard to Sense, as well as Sound;
By vogue or common Fame be gull'd no more,
Despise no Man of Wit for being poor,
Since Homer starv'd, if History be true,
For want of Benefactors, such as you:
Think none an empty Coxcomb, or a Beau,
Because an envious Dwarf proclaims him so;
Nor for ill-natur'd Falsities caress
A spightful Satyr in an epick Dress,
But lend your kind assistance to revive
A Poet long defunct, and yet alive;
Tho' not in Person, still his Works obtain
New Life, and are about to shine again;
Such as have ever pleas'd the nicest tast,
And grac'd the English Stage for Ages past;
But length of Time some Beauties have impair'd,
And wrong'd the Sense of the immortal Bard;
For Wit, tho' ne'er so regular and just,
In a few Years, like polish'd Steel, will rust,
And want a careful Artist to restore
The pleasing lustre it display'd before.
A Poet therefore in the Drama skill'd,
Who to no Rival should the Laurel yield,
Of late has rais'd old Shakespear from the dead,
And with judicious care his Works survey'd,
Expung'd the Faults, ungrateful to our view,
Fil'd off the rust, and burnish'd him anew,
A meritorious Work, that must prevail
With all good Judges to promote its sale;
For Wit so well adapted to the Stage,
Tho' stifl'd in a loose unthinking Age,
Can never long lie bury'd in disgrace,
And Farce be suffer'd to usurp its place.
And show regard to Sense, as well as Sound;
By vogue or common Fame be gull'd no more,
Despise no Man of Wit for being poor,
Since Homer starv'd, if History be true,
For want of Benefactors, such as you:
Think none an empty Coxcomb, or a Beau,
Because an envious Dwarf proclaims him so;
Nor for ill-natur'd Falsities caress
A spightful Satyr in an epick Dress,
But lend your kind assistance to revive
A Poet long defunct, and yet alive;
Tho' not in Person, still his Works obtain
New Life, and are about to shine again;
Such as have ever pleas'd the nicest tast,
And grac'd the English Stage for Ages past;
But length of Time some Beauties have impair'd,
And wrong'd the Sense of the immortal Bard;
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In a few Years, like polish'd Steel, will rust,
And want a careful Artist to restore
The pleasing lustre it display'd before.
A Poet therefore in the Drama skill'd,
Who to no Rival should the Laurel yield,
Of late has rais'd old Shakespear from the dead,
And with judicious care his Works survey'd,
Expung'd the Faults, ungrateful to our view,
Fil'd off the rust, and burnish'd him anew,
A meritorious Work, that must prevail
With all good Judges to promote its sale;
For Wit so well adapted to the Stage,
Tho' stifl'd in a loose unthinking Age,
Can never long lie bury'd in disgrace,
And Farce be suffer'd to usurp its place.
| Durgen | |