ABSTRACT
Beauty which Nature only can impart, 5 And such a polish as disgraces Art; But Fate dispos'd them in this humble sort, And hid in desarts what wou'd charm a court.
[written 1733; published 1733]
As when that Hero, who in each Campaign Had brav'd the Goth, and many a Vandal slain, Lay Fortune-struck, a Spectacle of Woe! Wept by each Friend, forgiv'n by ev'ry Foe: Was there a gen'rous, a reflecting Mind, 5 But pities Belisarius, Old and Blind? Was there a Chief, but melted at the Sight? A common Soldier, but who clubb'd his Mite? Such, such Emotions should in Britons rise, When prest by Want and Weakness, Dennis lies; 10 Dennis, who long had warr'd with modem Huns, Their Quibbles routed, and defy'd their Puns; A desp'rate Bulwark, sturdy, finn, and fierce, Against the Gothick Sons of frozen Verse; How chang'd from him, who made the Boxes groan, 15 And shook the Stage with Thunders all his own! Stood up to dash each vain Pretender's Hope, Maul the French Tyrant, or pull down the Pope I If there's a Briton, then, true bred and born, Who holds Dragoons and Wooden-Shoes in scorn; 20 If there's a Critick of distinguish'd Rage; If there's a Senior, who contemns this Age; Let him to Night his just Assistance lend, And be the Critick's, Briton's, Old-man's Friend.
