Can he, who peopled with the blockhead throng That stern creation of Satiric song; Can he, who put that rabble rout to flight, (Like Uriel, following in the Archangel's light) That long-eared rout, the Della Cruscan host, Can he look tamely at the fools, who boast A kindred vigour to his favourite few, And call an ancient school their affectation new? Call homely talk true Nature, and pretend Milton their guide, while Withers is their friend! Could he endure one laurel leaf to crown So bald a head, were laurels now renown? —Persius is his, and Juvenal arrays His honoured temples in a living blaze: His the firm song where Genius feels her scope, And England glories in a second Pope.
