IMITATIONS

OF

HORACE.

VOL. VI.

B

DR. WARTON obferves, "That the colloquial and burlesque ftyle and measure of Swift, here adopted, did not fuit the genius and manner of our Author, who frequently falls back, as was natural, from the familiar into his own more laboured, high, and pompous manner."

The observation is fo far juft, that Pope certainly does not difplay, in his Imitations of Horace, the eafe and familiarity of Swift; but this does not detract from their merit any farther than as profeffed Imitations of Swift. Neither, are the leaft like Horace. Dr. Warton's description of Horace's character, as a writer of Epiftles and Satires (for it does not at all apply to him in his Lyric capacity), is, from Cicero de Oratore, lib. i. appropriate and accurate: "Accedit lepos quidam, facetiæque, et eruditio libero digna, celeritafque et brevitas refpondendi et laceffendi, fubtili venuftate et urbanitate conjuncta."

EPISTOLA VII.

Q

UINQUE dies tibi pollicitus me rure futurum,
Sextilem totum mendax defideror. atqui,

Si me vivere vis fanum, recteque valentem;

Quam mihi das ægro, dabis ægrotare timenti,
Mæcenas, veniam: num ficus prima, calorque
Defignatorem decorat lictoribus atris:

Dum pueris omnis pater, et matercula pallet;
Officiofaque fedulitas, et opella forenfis
Adducit febres, et testamenta refignat.
Quod fi bruma nives Albanis illinet agris ;
Ad mare defcendet vates tuus, et fibi parcet,
Contractufque leget; te, dulcis amice, reviset
Cum Zephyris, fi concedes, et hirundine primâ.

Non,

EPISTLE VII.

IMITATED IN THE MANNER OF DR. SWIFT.

is true, my Lord, I gave my word,

'TIS

I would be with you, June the third ;
Chang'd it to August, and (in short)
Have kept it—as you do at Court.
You humour me when I am fick,
Why not when I am fplenetick?
In town, what objects could I meet?
The shops fhut up in ev'ry street,
And Fun'rals black'ning all the Doors,
And yet more melancholy Whores :
And what a duft in ev'ry place?

And a thin Court that wants your Face,
And Fevers raging up and down,

And W* and H** both in town !

"The Dog-days are no more the cafe."

'Tis true, but Winter comes apace:
Then fouthward let your Bard retire,

Hold out fome months 'twixt Sun and Fire,
And you fhall fee, the firft warm Weather,
Me and the Butterflies together.

5

10

15

20

My

NOTES.

VER. 12. a thin Court ] Pope's ufual topic of fpleen and ridin

cule.