'Hadst thou of old in flourishing Athens lived,
When all the learnèd arts in glory thrived,
When mighty Sophocles the stage did sway,
And poets by the state were held in pay;
'Twere worth thy pains to cultivate thy muse,
And daily wonders then it might produce;
But who would now write hackney to a stage,
That's only thought the nuisance of the age!
Go, after this, and beat thy wretched brains,
And toil to bring in thankless idiots' means;
Turn o'er dull Horace, and the classic fools,
To poach for sense, and hunt for idle rules;
Be free of tickets, and the playhouses,
And spend thy gains on tawdry actresses.
’All trades and all professions here abound,
And yet encouragement for all is found;
Here a vile empiric, who by licence kills,
Who every week helps to increase the bills,
Wears velvet, keeps his coach, and jade beside,
For what less villains must to Tyburn ride.
There a dull trading sot, in wealth o'ergrown
By thriving knavery, can call his own
A dozen manors, and, if fate still bless,
Expects as many counties to possess.
Punks, panders, bawds, all their due pensions gain,
And every day the great men's bounty drain;
Lavish expense on wit, has never yet
Been taxed amongst the grievances of state.
The Turkey, Guinea, India gainers be,
And all but the poetic company;
Each place of traffic, Bantam, Smyrna, Zante,
Greenland, Virginia, Seville, Alicant,
And France, that sends us vices, lace, and wine,
Vast profit all, and large returns bring in;
Parnassus only is that barren coast,
Where the whole voyage and adventure's lost.
’Then be advised, the slighted muse forsake,
And Coke and Dalton for thy study take;
Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/245
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A SATIRE.
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