"Twas thus. The Graces held the lyre, Th' harmonious frame the mufes ftrung, The loves and fmiles compos'd the choir, And Gay tranfcrib'd what Phoebus fung. To the merry Poetafter at Sadlers-Hall in Cheapfide. Unwieldy praife, with flatteries abufe. Nwieldy pedant, let thy auk ward mufe To lash, and not be felt, in thee's an art; Thy feeble fatire ne'er can do him wrong; ADDITIONS ADDITIONS TO THE WORKS OF WILLIAM WALSH, Efq; On the Author of a Dialogue concerning Women, pretended to be writ in Defence of the Sex. N EAR Covent-Garden theatre, where you know Poets their fenfe, players their fhapes do fhew, There is a club of critics of the pit, Who do themselves admire for men of wit; On plays and ladies both to pass their doom; And And fince for chivalry he claims no warrant, may Till for his daring arrogance he's fpurn'd," This is the fool, fair ladies, that does haunt you, To a Lady who fent him the foregoing Verfes into the Country. I Receiv'd a copy of verfes from you last post, with a command (for the requests of fair ladies are always commands to me) that I fhou'd answer 'em. I wou'd ferve you, madam, you may be fure, in any thing that was in my power, but this I must own is quite beyond it; and after having read them over, I found myself utterly unable to cope with fo dead-doing an author: I fent therefore immediately to the clerk of the parish (a very honeft man, a good weaver, and no ill critick I can affure you, as criticks go) to beg the favour of him, that he wou'd come and affift me in the thing. With his help, madam, I read 'em over again: We both agreed, that there were never words better chofen, verse more delicately turn'd, fatire more fine, or raptures more poetical. As for example: Blefs us faid I, what mighty hero's here? ・. The The clerk indeed made fome exceptions to the lines that follow: But when the boasted matter I had read, I found my expectation was misled. He faid he cou'd not imagine, that fo wife a perfon as the author of those verses cou'd be misled in any thing. And, ladies, now (An apoftrophé to the ladies :) without the help of day, O God, madam, by a rush-light as plain as can be, You may difcern who does the weapon fway. If it were not too great a trouble to the author, I wou'd defire to know of him who it is that does fway the weapon; for fometimes he makes us believe it is the prefacer, and sometimes the pretended author: And brandishes his pen against your credit, This laft was so very good a conceit, and fo very new, that I thought the clerk wou'd have died with laughing at it. Well, faid he, (when he had a little recover'd himself) that Eat-finger is fo ingenious, that a man might have made five or fix very good verses of that one thought. Set your heart at reft, faid I, and fee if this author has not as much management as he has wit. He that fits filent in his wit's defence, I warrant this poet never fat filent in his life, Whofe |