EPIGRAMS.
from The GRUB-STREET JOURNAL. 1730–1731.
I. On J. M. S. Gent.
To prove himself no Plagiary, Moore,
Has writ such stuff, as none e'er writ before.
Thy prudence, Moore, is like that Irish Wit,
Who shew'd his breech, to prove 'twas not besh—
II. On Mr. M---re's going to Law with Mr. Gilliver.
Inscrib'd to Attorney Tibbald.
Once in his Life M---re judges right:
His Sword and Pen not worth a Straw,
An Author that cou'd never write,
A Gentleman that dares not fight,
Has but one way to teaze—by Law.
This suit dear Tibbald kindly hatch;
Thus thou may'st help the sneaking Elf:
And sure a Printer is his Match,
Who's but a Publisher himself.
III. [On J. M. S. Gent.]
A gold watch found on Cinder Whore,
Or a good verse on J---my M---e,
Proves but what either shou'd conceal,
Not that they're rich, but that they steal.
IV. EPITAPH
On
James Moore Smythe
.
Here lyes what had nor Birth, nor Shape, nor Fame;
No Gentleman! no man! no-thing! no name!
For Jammie ne'er grew James; and what they call
More, shrunk to Smith—and Smith's no name at all.
Yet dye thou can'st not, Phantom, oddly fated:
For how can no-thing be annihilated?
Ex nihilo nihil fit.
V. On the Candidates for the Laurel.
Shall Royal praise be rhym'd by such a ribald,
As fopling C---r, or Attorney T---d?
Let's rather wait one year for better luck;
One year may make a singing Swan of Duck.
Great G---! such servants since thou well can'st lack,
Oh! save the Salary, and drink the Sack!
VI. On the Same.
[Behold! ambitious of the British bays]
Behold! ambitious of the British bays,
C---r and Duck contend in rival lays:
But, gentle Colley, should thy verse prevail,
Thou hast no fence, alas! against his flail:
Wherefore thy claim resign, allow his right;
For Duck can thresh, you know, as well as write.
VII. On DENNIS.
Shou'd D---s print how once you robb'd your Brother,
Traduc'd your Monarch, and debauch'd your Mother;
Say what revenge on D---s can be had;
Too dull for laughter, for reply too mad?
Of one so poor you cannot take the law;
On one so old your sword you scorn to draw.
Uncag'd then let the harmless Monster rage,
Secure in dullness, madness, want, and age.
VIII. Occasion'd by seeing some Sheets of Dr. B---tl*y's
Edition of Milton's Paradise Lost.
Did Milton's Prose, O Charles, thy Death defend?
A furious Foe unconscious proves a Friend.
On Milton's Verse does B---t---ly comment?—Know
A weak officious Friend becomes a Foe.
While he but sought his Author's Fame to further,
The murd'rous Critic has aveng'd thy Murder.
