WITH age decay'd, with Courts and bus'ness tir'd, Caring for nothing but what Ease requir'd;Too dully serious for the Muse's sport, And from the Critics safe arriv'd in Port; I little thought of launching forth agen, Amidst adventrous rovers of the Pen: And after so much undeserv'd Success, Thus hazarding at last to make it less.Encomiums suit not this censorious time, It self a Subject for satyric Rhime; Ignorance honour'd, Wit and Worth defam'd, Folly triumphant, and ev'n Homer blam'd!But to this Genius, join'd with so much Art, Such various Learning mix'd in ev'ry part, Poets are bound a loud applause to pay;Apollo bids it, and they must obey.And yet so wonderful, sublime a thing,As the great Iliad, scarce should make me sing;Except I justly could at once commend A good Companion, and as firm a Friend. One moral, or a meer well-natur'd deed, Does all desert in Sciences exceed.'Tis great Delight to laugh at some men's ways, But a much greater to give Merit praise.
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