yaca |V\> r • \ ( 5 ) A N E P I S T L E To the Right Honourable RICHARD Earl of BURLINGTON. I S ftrange, the Mifer Ihould his Cares imploy To gain thofe Riches he can ne’er enjoy: Is it lefs ftrange, the Prodigal ihould wajle His Wealth to purchafe what he ne’er can tajie ? Not for himielf he fees, or hears, or eats ; Artifts muft chufe his Pictures, Mulic, Meats : He buys for Topham Drawings and Deligns, For Fountain Statues, and for Curio Coins, Rare Monkifh Manufcripts for Hearne alone, And Books for Mead , and Rarities for Sloan. ( © ) Think we all thefe are for himfelf ? no more Than his fine Wife (my Lord) or finer Whore. For what has Vino painted, built, and planted? Only to fliew how many Tallies he wanted. What brought Sir Shylock's ill-got Wealth to wafte ? Some Da:mon whifper’d, “ Knights Ihou’d have a Tajie .” Heav’n vifits with a Tajie the wealthy Fool, And needs no Rod, but S - d with a Rule. See fportive Fate, to puniili aukward Pride, Bids Babo build, and fends him fuch a Guide: A Handing Sermon! at each Year’s expence, 1 hat never Coxcomb reach’d Magnificence. Oft have have you hinted to your Brother Peer, A certain Truth, which many buy too dear: Something there is, more needful than Expence, And fomething previous ev’n to Tafte — ’Tis Senfe ; Good Senfe, which only is the Gift of Heav’n, And tho’ no Science, fairly worth the Seven. A Light, which in yourjelf you mull: perceive; Jones and -f Le Notre have it not to give. * Inigo Jones. + The famous Artift vsbo defgn'd the heft Gardens in France ; andplar.n'd Greenwich and St. James’; Parks , &c. To To build, to plant, whatever you intend, To rear the Column, or the Arch to bend, To fwell the Terras, or to fink the Grot; In all, let Nature never be foreot. o Confult the Genius of the Place in all, That tells the Waters or to rife, or fall, Or helps th’ ambitious Hill the Heav’ns to fcale, Or fcoops in circling- Theatres the Vale, Calls in the Country, catches opening Glades, Joins willing Woods, and varies Shades from Shades, Now breaks, or now directs, th’ intending Lines j Paints as you plant, and as you work, Dejigns. Begin with Senfe , of ev’ry Art the Soul, Parts anfw’ring Parts, fhall Hide into a Whole, Spontaneous Beauties all around advance, Start, ev’n from Difficulty, ftrike, from Chance ; Nature fhall join you ; Time fhall make it grow A Work to wonder at —perhaps a * Stow. Without it, proud Verjailles! thy Glory falls, And Nero's Terrafles defert their Walls: * The Scat and Gardens of the Lord V,[count Cobham in Buckinghamlhire. ( 8 ) 1 he vaft Parterres a thoufand hands lhall make, Lo! Bridgman comes, and floats them with a Lake: Or cut wide Views thro’ Mountains to the Plain, ^ ou’ll wifh your Hill, and fhelter’d Seat, again. Behold Vill aria's ten-years Toil compleat, His Qiuncunx darkens, his Efpaliers meet, The Wood fupports the Plain ; the Parts unite, And ftrength of Shade contends with ftrength of Light; His bloomy Beds a waving Glow difplay, Blulhing in bright Diverlities of Day, With lilver-cjuiv’ring Rills maander’d o’er — — Enjoy them, you 1 Villano can no more; Tir’d of the Scene Parterres and Fountains yield, He finds at laif he better likes a Field. Thro’ his young Woods how pleas’d Sabims ftray’d, Or fate delighted in the thick’ning Shade, With annual Joy the red’ning Shoots to greet, And fee the ftretching Branches long to meet! His Son’s fine Tafie an op’ner Vifta loves, Foe to the Dryads of his Father’s Groves, 4 - ( 9 ) One boundlejs Green or flourijh'd Carpet views, With all the mournful Family of Tews ; The thriving Plants ignoble Broomfticks made Now fweep thofe Allies they were born to fliade. \ et hence the Poor are cloth d, the Hungry fed ; Health to himfelf, and to his Infants Bread The Lab rer bears; What thy hard Heart denies, Thy charitable Vanity fupplies. Another Age lhall fee the golden Ear lmbrown thy Slope, and nod on thy Parterre, Deep Harvefts bury all thy Pride has plann’d, And laughing Ceres re-affume the Land. At Pinions Villa let us pafs a Day, Where all cry out, “ What Sums are thrown away! So proud, fo grand, of that ftupendous Air, Soft and ylgreeable come never there. Greatnefs, with Timon , dwells in fuch a Draught As brings all Brobdignag before your Thought: To compafs this, his Building is a Town, His Pond an Ocean, his Parterre a Down ; C Who ( >0 ) Who but mu ft laugh the Mafter when he fees? A puny Infect, fhiv’ring at a Breeze! L° ! what huge Heaps of Littknefs around ! I he Whole, a labour’d Quarry above ground! Two Cupids fquirt before: A Lake behind Improves the keennefs of the Northern Wind. His Gardens next vour Admiration call, On ev’ry lide you look, behold the Wall! No pleating- Intricacies intervene, No artful Wildenefs to perplex the Scene: Grove nods at Grove, each Ally has a Brother, And half the Platform juft refletfts the other. The fufPring Eye inverted Nature fees, Trees cut to Statues, Statues thick as Trees, With here a Fountain, never to be play’d, And there a Summer-houfe, that knows no Shade. Here Amphitrite fails thro’ Myrtle bow’rs ; Then \ Gladiators fight, or die, in flow’rs; Un-water’d fee the drooping Sea-horfe mourn, And Swallows rooft in Ntins' dufty Urn. ' nf ,wo f amous iS,atkeI of Gladiator pognans, & Gladiator morions. Behold! ( 11 ) Behold ! my Lord advances o’er the Green, Smit with the mighty pleafure, to be feen: But foft — by regular approach — not yet_ Firlt thro’ the length of yon hot Terras fweat, And when up ten deep Slopes you’v e dragg’d your thighs, Jud at his Study-door he’ll blefs your Eyes. And now the Chappel’s diver bell you hear, That fummons you to all the Pride of Pray’r: Light Quirks of Muiick, broken and uueven, Make the Soul dance upon a Jig to Heaven. On painted Cielings you devoutly dare, Where fprawl the Saints of Verr io, or Laguerre, On His Study? with what Authors is it dor’d ? In Books, not Authors, curious is my Lord ; To all their dated Backs he turns you round, Thefe Aldus printed, thofe Du Sueil has bound. Lo fome are JL?llom , and the red as good For all his Lordfhip knows, but they are Wood. For Lock or Milton ’tis in vain to look, 1 hefe Shelves admit not any Modern book. ( 12 ) On gilded Clouds in fair expanlion lie, And bring all Paradife before your Eye. To Reft, the Culhion, and foft Dean invite, A\ r ho never mentions Hell to Ears polite. But hark! the chiming Clocks to Dinner call A hundred Footfteps ferape the marble Kail : The rich Buffet well-colour’d Serpents grace, And gaping Tritons fpew to walli your Face. Is this a Dinner ? this a Genial Room 3 No, tis a Temple, and a Hecatomb ; A folemn Sacrifice, perform’d in State, \ ou drink by Meafure, and to Minutes eat. So quick retires each Hying Courfe, you’d fwear Sancho’s dread Doctor and his Wand were there : Between each Act the trembling Salvers ring, from Soup to Sweetwine, and God blejs the King. In Plenty ftarving, tantaliz’d in State, And complaifantly help’d to all I hate, 1 rcated, carefs d, and tir d, I take my leave, Sick of his civil Pride, from Morn to Eve; I curfe ft ( >3 ) I curfe fuch lavilh Coft, and little Skill, And fwear, no Day was ever part fo ill. In you, ray Lord, Tafte fan&ifies Expence, For Splendor borrows all her Rays from Senfe. You lliow us, Rome was glorious, not profufe, And pompous Buildings once were things of ufe. Jull: as they are, yet ihall your noble Rules Fill half the Land with Imitating Fools, Who random Drawings from your Sheets Ihall take, And of one Beauty many Blunders make ; Load fome yain Church with olcj Theatric State, Turn Arcs of Triumph to a Garden-gate; Re'verfe your Ornaments, and hang them all On fome patch’d Doghole ek’d with Ends of Wall, Then clap four Dices of Pilafter on’t, And lac’d with bits of Ruftic, ’tis a Front: Shall call the Winds thro’ long Arcades to roar, Proud to catch cold at a Fcnetian door; Confcious they act a true Ralladian part, And if they ftarve, they ftarve by Rules of Art. Yet V # D ( >4 ) . Yet thou proceed; be fallen Arts thy care, Erect new Wonders, and the Old repair, Jones and Palladio to themfelves reftore, And be whate’er Vitruvius was before: Till Kings call forth th’ Idea’s of thy Mind, Proud to accomplifh what fuch hands defign’d, Bid Harbors open, publick Ways extend, And Temples, worthier of the God, afeend ; Bid the broad Arch the dang’rous Flood contain, The Mole projected break the roaring Main; Back to his bounds their fubject Sea command, And roll obedient Rivers thro’ the Land : < * ' v l Thefe Honours, Peace to happy Britain brines Thefe are Imperial Works, and worthy Kings. F I A 7 I S. BOOKS printed for Lawton Gilliver at Homer V Head over againft. St. Dunftan’j Church , Fleetftreet. T HE Dunciad Variorum, a fmall Number in Quarto, Price Six Shillings and Six Pence. -In OCtavo, with feveral Additional Notes and Epigrams. -In D .odecimo, of the firft Edition without Notes, fit to be bound up with the Homer's and Mifcellanies, in 12" A Collection of Pieces in Verfe and Profe, occafioned by the D u n- ciad, Dedicated to the Earl of Middlefex , by R. Savage, F.fq; The Art of Politicks, in Imitatienof Horace s Art of poetry. Harlequin-Horace : Of, The Art Or in iniSxd Poetry. Imperium Pelagi : A Naval Lyrick, written in Imitation of Pindar s Spirit. Occafion’d by his Majefty’s Return, September 1729, and the fucceeding Peace. Gay s Poems on feveral Occafions, 2 Vol. 12 0 . Add if on's Works in 4 Volumes in Quarto, the fccond Edition beau¬ tifully printed. Miltons Paradife Loft and Regain’d in 8° and 12 0 . 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