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A SATIRE ON SATIRISTS.
FOR eaters of goose-liver there is drest
This part alone; the cats divide the rest;
This is their liver, trufled, tender, sweet,
And all beside is sad unchristian* meat.
* And all beside is sad unchristian meat.-He who could partake of such an abominable luxury, knowing its process, ought not even to be buried where men are buried, but (in strict retributive justice) given to the kites and crows.
Let thou the Muse's spangled tissue play
About thy head and bosom, night and day,
Thinly by Nature is our honey spread
very coarse and very bitter bread.
And from our corners we descry asquint
A prettier book than ours, a sharper print;
If sober, stupid, and if fiery, mad.
Who in hard stems and clotted leaves would rout, When the whole essence he may have without? Who to the husks of poets would sit down, When Murray sells the kernels for a crown? Grant me, propitious Fate! to meet our best Only on Pindus, and in heaven the rest; Leaving, to walk beside me while I stay, The kind companion of an earlier day, Whom genius, virtue, manly grief, endear, And bonds draw closer every circling year.
In fashionable squares and new-built streets Suburban Muses take their several beats;
And whoso passes their select purlieus
Is thief or strumpet, anything but Muse.
Sooner shall Tuscan Vallombrosa lack wood
Than Britain Grub-street, Billingsgate, and Black
Slave-merchants, scalpers, cannibals, agree...
In Letter-land no brotherhood must be.
If there were living upon earth but twain,
One would be Abel and the other Cain.
Here, be our cause the wrong one or the right,
Foul are the boxers, seconds, ring, and green...
And we wear gloves, and much prefer the clean.
No Truce of God, no sabbath's armistice.
"Down with your money! down with it, new
"And rise Sir Sotheby,* and stand by Homer.
"O'er Pope, o'er Cowper, lift thy licensed head,
"Our junction-magazines and branch-gazettes;
"Precaution taken, each may find his friend,
"Who makes the limberest threadcase stand on end. "Few are the authors here with lives uncharm'd,
"And thinnest ghosts march through their moonlight, arm'd."
There never squatted a more sordid brood Beneath the battlements of Holyrood,
* Who can account for the eulogies of Blackwood on Sotheby's Homer, as compared with Pope's and Cowper's? Eulogy is not reported to be the side he lies upon, in general.