Gulliveriana or, a fourth volume of miscellanies. Being a Sequel of the Three Volumes published by Pope and Swift. To which is added, Alexanderiana; or, A Comparison between the Ecclesiastical and Poetical Pope. And many Things, in Verse and Prose, relating to the latter. With an ample Preface; and a Critique on the Third Volume of Miscellanies lately publish'd by those two facetious Writers [by Jonathan Smedley] |
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From the Daily Journal, April 16. 1728.
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From the Daily Journal, April 16. 1728.
A Copy of Verses, said to be omitted, by Accident, in the last New Miscellany.
At a Court, that was call'd, t'other Day, in the Air,
By the good Guardian Angel, who holds us in Care,
The Genius of Mischief, in sullen Disdain,
Made his Honours, and frown'd, and took Leave to complain.
By the good Guardian Angel, who holds us in Care,
The Genius of Mischief, in sullen Disdain,
Made his Honours, and frown'd, and took Leave to complain.
Is it thus, said the Dæmon, you, heavenly Blades,
Keep your Word, with us, Envoys, L--- H---ps of the Shades?
Vow'd you not, in Revenge for the Sins of this Land,
To allow us free Licence, and hold back your Hand?
Yet, unmindful of Us, or the Promise we claim,
See us frighted to Fairys, at one little Name!
See the Graces, and Muses, and Virtues, combin'd,
To unite Beauty, Wisdom, and Force, in one Mind;
Nay, in Hate of our Leader, resolv'd, not to cease,
Till you raise us a Foe, that can charm Hell to Peace,
You, to make him more dreadful, and widen his Scope,
Give him musical Magick, and christen him Pope.
All alarm'd, at his Verse, we have Right to complain,
Lest England shou'd, soon, be Old England, again.
There's Attraction, you know, in a Poet, like This,
That can tempt the whole World into Virtue, like His.
Keep your Word, with us, Envoys, L--- H---ps of the Shades?
Vow'd you not, in Revenge for the Sins of this Land,
To allow us free Licence, and hold back your Hand?
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See us frighted to Fairys, at one little Name!
See the Graces, and Muses, and Virtues, combin'd,
To unite Beauty, Wisdom, and Force, in one Mind;
Nay, in Hate of our Leader, resolv'd, not to cease,
Till you raise us a Foe, that can charm Hell to Peace,
You, to make him more dreadful, and widen his Scope,
Give him musical Magick, and christen him Pope.
All alarm'd, at his Verse, we have Right to complain,
Lest England shou'd, soon, be Old England, again.
There's Attraction, you know, in a Poet, like This,
That can tempt the whole World into Virtue, like His.
Never fear, cry'd the Angel,—my Promise once given,
You are safe, for this Time, from the Outguards of Heaven;
Pope is gelt, in his Youth, for his Countrymen's Crimes,
And his Lustre dim'd down, to the Dusk of the Times:
God sent Pain and Impertinence, Wit to controul,
Gave the Devil his Body, and bid Swift take his Soul.
You are safe, for this Time, from the Outguards of Heaven;
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And his Lustre dim'd down, to the Dusk of the Times:
God sent Pain and Impertinence, Wit to controul,
Gave the Devil his Body, and bid Swift take his Soul.
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