And, after many a vain effay,
To captivate the tempting prey,
Gives him at length the lucky pat,
And has him fafe beneath his hat:
Then lifts it gently from the ground;
But ah! 'tis loft as foon as found;
Culprit his liberty regains,
Flits out of fight, and mocks his pains.
The fenfe was dark; 'twas therefore fit
With fimile to illuftrate it;
But as too much obfcures the fight,
As often as too little light,
We have our fimiles cut fhort,
For matters of more grave import.
That Matthew's numbers run with ease,
Each man of common fenfe agrees!
All men of common fense allow
That Robert's lines are eafy too:
Where then the preference fhall we place,
Or how do justice in this case?
Matthew (fays Fame) with endless pains
Smooth'd and refined the meaneft ftrains;
Nor fuffer'd one ill chofen rhyme
To escape him at the idlest time;
And thus o'er all a luftre cast,
That, while the language lives, fhall last.
An't please your ladyfhip (quoth I,—
For 'tis my business to reply ;)
Sure fo much labour, so much toil,
Bespeak at least a stubborn foil:
Theirs be the laurel-wreath decreed,
Who both write well, and write full speed!
Who throw their Helicon about
As freely as a conduit spout!
Friend Robert, thus like chien fçavant,
Lets fall a poem en passant,
Nor needs his genuine ore refine!
'Tis ready polifh'd from the mine.
THE FIFTH SATIRE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.
A humorous Defcription of the Author's Journey from Rome to Brundufium.
WAS a long journey lay before us,
When I and honeft Heliodorus,
Who far in point of rhetoric
Surpaffes every living Greek,
Each leaving our refpective home,
Together fallied forth from Rome.
First at Aricia we alight,
And there refresh, and pass the night,
Our entertainment rather coarse
Than fumptuous, but I've met with worse.
Thence o'er the causeway foft and fair
To Appiiforum we repair.
But as this road is well fupplied
(Temptation ftrong!) on either fide
With inns commodious, fnug, and warm,
We split the journey, and perform
In two days' time what's often done
By brisker travellers in one.
Here, rather choofing not to fup
Than with bad water mix my cup,
After a warm debate in spite
Of a provoking appetite,
I fturdily refolved at last
To balk it, and pronounce a fast,
And in a moody humour wait,
While my less dainty comrades bait.
Now o'er the spangled hemisphere
Diffused the starry train appear,
When there arose a desperate brawl;
The flaves and bargemen, one and all,
Rending their throats (have mercy on us!)
As if they were refolved to ftun us.
"Steer the barge this way to the shore;
I tell you we'll admit no more;
Plague! will
you never be content?" Thus a whole hour at leaft is spent, While they receive the feveral fares, And kick the mule into his gears. Happy, these difficulties past,
Could we have fallen asleep at last!
But, what with humming, croaking, biting,
Gnats, frogs, and all their plagues uniting,
These tuneful natives of the lake
Confpired to keep us broad awake.
Befides, to make the concert full,
Two maudlin wights, exceeding dull,
The bargeman and a passenger,
Each in his turn, effay'd an air
In honour of his abfent fair.
At length the paffenger, oppreft
With wine, left off, and fnored the rest.
The weary bargeman too gave o'er,
And hearing his companion fnore,
Seized the occafion, fix'd the barge,
Turn'd out his mule to graze at large,
And slept forgetful of his charge.
And now the fun o'er eastern hill
Discover'd that our barge stood still;
When one, whofe anger vex'd him fore,
With malice fraught, leaps quick on fhore;
Plucks up a ftake, with many a thwack
Affails the mule and driver's back.
Then flowly moving on with pain,
At ten Feronia's ftream we gain,
And in her pure and glaffy wave
Our hands and faces gladly lave.
Climbing three miles, fair Anxur's height
We reach, with ftony quarries white.
While here, as was agreed, we wait,
Till, charged with bufinefs of the state,
Mæcenas and Cocceius come,
The meffengers of peace from Rome.
My eyes, by watery humours blear
And fore, I with black balfam smear.
At length they join us, and with them
Our worthy friend Fonteius came;
A man of fuch complete defert,
Antony loved him at his heart.
At Fundi we refused to bait,
And laugh'd at vain Aufidius' state,
A prætor now, a fcribe before,
The purple-border'd robe he wore,
His flave the smoking censer bore.
Tired, at Muræna's we repofe,
At Formia fup at Capito's.
With smiles the rifing morn we greet,
At Sinueffa pleased to meet
With Plotius, Varius, and the bard
Whom Mantua first with wonder heard.
The world no purer spirits knows;
For none my heart more warmly glows.
O! what embraces we bestow'd,
And with what joy our breafts o'erflow'd!
Sure, while my fenfe is found and clear,
Long as I live, I shall prefer
A gay, good-natured, eafy friend,
To every bleffing Heaven can fend.
At a fmall village the next night
Near the Vulturnus we alight;
Where, as employ'd on state affairs,
We were supplied by the purveyors
Frankly at once, and without hire,
With food for man and horse, and fire.
Capua next day betimes we reach,
Where Virgil and myself, who each
Labour'd with different maladies,
His fuch a stomach, mine fuch eyes,
As would not bear ftrong exercise,
In drowsy mood to fleep refort;
Mæcenas to the tennis-court.
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