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Would act, design, engrave, write, paint,
And scorn'd the gloss of knowing fools,
Her bones peep'd through her bladder-skin;
That folks shou'd praise, where she must chide,
To mar each good and brave intent;
Talk'd much of Faction, Gang, Alliance,
Had clubb'd to lay a DESART waste.
In short, wherever GENIUS came, You'd find this Antiquated Dame; Whate'er he did, where'er he went, She follow'd only to torment; Call'd MERIT by a thousand names, Which decency or truth disclaims, While all her business, toil, and care, Was to depreciate, lye, compare, To pull the Modest Maiden down, And blast her fame to all the town. The Youth, inflam'd with conscious pride, To Prince POSTERITY apply'd,
gave his answer thus in rhyme, By his chief minister, Old TIME. "Repine not at what pedants say, "We'll bring thee forward on the way; "If wither'd ENVY strive to hurt "With lies, with impudence, and dirt, "You only pay a common tax
"Which fool, and knave, and dunce exacts. "Be this thy comfort, this thy joy,
Thy strength is in it's prime, my boy, "And ev'ry year thy vigour grows, my foes.
"Impairs the credit of
“ENVY shall sink, and be no more,
"Than what her NAIADS were before;
Mere excremental maggots, bred
"Yet, GENIUS, mark what I presage,
"And stamp eternity of grace "On all thy numerous various race. "ROUBILLIAC, WILTON, names as high "As Phidias of antiquity,
"Shall strength, expression, manner give, "And make e'en marble breathe and live; "While SIGISMUNDA's deep distress, "Which looks the soul of wretchedness, "When I, with slow and soft'ning pen, "Have gone o'er all the tints agen, "Shall urge a bold and proper claim "To level half the ancient fame; "While future ages yet unknown * "With critic air shall proudly own "Thy HOGARTH first of every clime, "For humour keen, or strong sublime, "And hail him from his fire and spirit, "The Child of GENIUS and of MARIT."
HARE AND TORTOISE,
GENIUS, blest term, of meaning wide,
For sure no term so misapply'd,
How many bear thy sacred name,
Thus fools have christen'd inclination.
Whate'er he tries with due attention,
It's springs within in order due,
Some genial spark of Phoebus' rays,
Without it Genius vainly tries,
When braggart parts and Genius fail:
In days of yore, when time was young,
He'd boast, his flight 'twere vain to follow,