The first epistle of the first book of Horace imitated: By Mr. Pope.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- Q. HORATII FLACCI EPIST. I. LIB. I. AD MAECENATEM.

- EPISTLES OF HORACE. BOOK I. EPISTLE I.

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE IMITATED.

By Mr. POPE.

LONDON: Printed for R. DODSLEY at Tully's Head in Pall-mall, and sold by T. Cooper in Pater-noster-row, MDCCXXXVII. [Pric. 1 s.]

Q. HORATII FLACCI
EPIST. I. LIB. I.
AD MAECENATEM.

PRIMA dicte mihi, summâ dicende Camenâ!

2 Spectatum satis, & donatum jam rude, quaeris

(Maecenas) iterum antiquo me includere ludo?

Non eadem est aetas, non mens. 3 Vejanius Armis

4 Herculis ad postem fixis, latet abditus agro,

Ne populum 5 extremâ, toties, exoret arenâ.

6 Est mihi, purgatam crebro qui personet aurem;

" Solve 7 senescentem mature sanus equum, ne

" Peccet ad extremum ridendus, & ilia ducat."

Nunc itaque, & 8 Versus & caetera ludicra pono,

Quid 9 verum atque decens, curo & rogo, & omnis in hoc sum.

10 Condo & compono quae mox depromere possim.

Ac ne forte roges, 11 quo me duce, quo Lare tuter?

Nullius addictus jurare in verba Magistri,

12 Quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor Hospes.

Nunc agilis fio, & mersor 13 civilibus undis,

Virtutis verae Custos, 14 rigidusque satelles.

Nunc in [*]Aristippi 15 furtim praecepta relabor

Et mihi res, non me rebus, submittere conor.

16 Ut nox longa quibus mentitur amica, diesque

Longa videtur opus debentibus, ut piger annus

Pupillis, quos dura premit custodia matrum:

Sic mihi tarda 17 fluunt ingrataque tempora, quae spem

Consiliumque morantur agendi gnaviter 18 id, quod

Aeque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus aeque,

Aeque neglectum pueris, senibusque nocebit.

19Restat, ut his ego me ipse regam, 20 solerque, Elementis.

21 Non possis oculo quantum contendere Lynceus,

Non tamen idcirco contemnas lippus inungi:

Nec, quia desperes invicti membra Glyconis,

Nodosâ corpus nolis prohibere chiragrâ.

Est quâdam prodire 22 tenus, si non datur ultra.

23 Fervet Avaritia, miseroque Cupidine pectus?

Sunt verba & voces, quibus hunc lenire dolorem

Possis, & 24 magnam morbi deponere partem.

Laudis amore tumes? sunt 25 certa piacula, quae te

Ter pure lecto poterunt recreare libello.

26 Invidus, iracundus, iners, vinosus, 27 Amator,

Nemo 28 adeo ferus est ut non mitescere possit,

Si modo culturae patientem commodet aurem.

29 Virtus est vitium fugere, & Sapientia prima

Stultitia caruisse—

—Vides, quae 30 maxima credis

Esse mala, exiguum censum, turpemque repulsam,

Quanto devites animi, capitisque labore?

Impiger extremos curris mercator ad Indos,

Per 31 mare pauperiem fugiens, per saxa, per ignes:

Ne cures 32 ea que stulte miraris & optas

Discere, & audire, & meliori credere non vis?**

" 33 Vilius argentum est auro, virtutibus aurum—

" 34 O cives, cives! quaerenda Pecunia primum est,

" Virtus post nummos—Haec 35 Janus summus ab imo

Prodocet: haec recinunt juvenes dictata, senesque,

36 Laevo suspensi loculos tabulamque lacerto.

Est 37 animus tibi, sunt mores, est lingua, fidesque—

Si quadringentis sex, septem millia desint,

38Plebs eris—

39 At pueri ludentes, 'Rex eris (aiunt)

" Si recte facies." Hic 40 murus aheneus esto,

Nil conscire sibi, nullâ pallescere culpâ!

41 Roscia, dic sodes, melior lex, an puerorum

Noenia? quae regnum recte facientibus offert,

Et Maribus^42Curiis, & decantata Camillis?

43 Isne tibi melius suadet, qui "Rem facias, rem,

" Si possis, recte, si non, quocunque modo rem."

Ut 44 proprius spectes lacrymosa Poemata Pupi!

An, 45 qui Fortunae te responsare superbae

Liberum & erectum, 46 praesens hortatur, & aptat?

47 Quod si me Populus Romanus forte roget, cur

Non, ut 48 porticibus, sic judiciis fruar iisdem,

Nec sequar aut fugiam, quos diligit ipse, vel odit?

Olim quod 49 Vulpes aegroto cauta Leoni

Respondit, referam: "Quia me vestigia terrent

" Omnia te adversum spectantia, nulla retrorsum.

50Bellua multorum est capitum, nam quid sequar aut quem?

Pars hominum gestit 51 conducere Publica. Sunt qui

52 Crustis & Pomis, Viduas venentur avaras,

Excipiantque Senes quos in vivaria mittunt.

53Multis occulto crescit res foenore—

—54 Verum

Esto, aliis alios rebus, studiisque teneri:

Iidem eadem possunt horam durare probantes?

55 " Nullus in orbe locus Baiis prelucet amaenis:"

Si dixit Dives, 56 lacus & mare sentit amorem

Festinantis heri. Cui si 57 vitiosa Libido

Fecerit auspicium, cras, "ferramenta Teanum

" Tolletis fabri!—

—58 Lectus genialis in aula est?

Nil ait esse prius, melius nil caelibe vita:

59 Si non est, jurat bene solis esse maritis.

60 Quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo?

Quid 61 pauper? ride: mutat 62 caenacula, lectos,

Balnea, 63 tonsores; conducto 64 navigio, aequè

Nauseat ac locuples, quem ducit priva tirremis.

65 Si curtatus inaequali tonsore capillos

Occurro, rides; si forte subucula pexae

Trita subest tunicae, vel si toga dissidet impar,

Rides: quid? 66 mea cum pugnat Sententia secum,

Quod petiit, spernit; repetit quod nuper omisit;

67 Aestuat, & Vitae disconvenit ordine toto;

68 Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis?

69 Insanire putas solennia me; neque rides,

Nec 70 Medici credis, nec Curatoris egere

A Praetore dati? rerum 71 Tutela mearum

Cum sis, & pravè sectum stomacheris ob unguem,

De te pendentis, te suspicientis, Amici.

Ad summam, Sapiens uno 72 minor est Jove! 73 Dives!

74 Liber! 75 honoratus! 76 pulcher!—

— 77 Rex denique regum!

Praecipue sanus—

— 78 Nisi cum pituita molesta est.

Notes

*
Omnis Aristippum decuit color, & status, & res.
↵

EPISTLES OF HORACE.
BOOK I.
EPISTLE I.

S** whose love indulg'd my labours past,

Matures my present, and shall bound my last!

Why 2 will you break the Sabbath of my days?

Now sick alike of Envy and of Praise.

Publick too long, ah let me hide my Age!

See modest 3 Cibber now has left the Stage:

Our Gen'rals now, 4 retir'd to their Estates,

Hang their old Trophies o'er the Garden gates,

In Life's cool evening satiate of applause,

Nor 5 fond of bleeding, ev'n in BR_+'s cause.

6 A Voice there is, that whispers in my ear,

('Tis Reason's voice, which sometimes one can hear)

" Friend Pope! be prudent, let your^7 Muse take breath,

" And never gallop Pegasus to death;

" Lest stiff, and stately, void of fire, and force,

" You limp, like Blackmore, on a Lord Mayor's horse.'

Farewel then 8 Verse, and Love, and ev'ry Toy,

The rhymes and rattles of the Man or Boy:

What 9 right, what true, what fit, we justly call,

Let this be all my care-for this is All:

To lay this 10 harvest up, and hoard with haste

What ev'ry day will want, and most, the last.

But ask not, to what 11 Doctors I apply?

Sworn to no Master, of no Sect am I:

As drives the 12 storm, at any door I knock,

And house with Montagne now, or now with Lock.

Sometimes a 13 Patriot, active in debate,

Mix with the World, and battle for the State,

Free as young Lyttleton, her cause pursue,

Still true to Virtue, 14 and as warm as true:

Sometimes, with Aristippus, or St. Paul,

Indulge my Candor, and grow all to all;

Back to my 15 native Moderation slide,

And win my way by yielding to the tyde.

16 Long, as to him who works for debt, the Day,

Long as the Night to her whose love's away;

Long as the Year's dull circle seems to run,

When the brisk Minor pants for twenty-one;

So slow th' 17 unprofitable Moments roll,

That lock up all the Functions of my soul;

That keep me from Myself; and still delay

Life's instant business to a future day:

That 18 task, which as we follow, or despise,

The eldest is a fool, the youngest wise;

Which done, the poorest can no wants endure,

And which not done, the richest must be poor.

19 Late as it is, I put my self to school,

And feel some 20 comfort, not to be a fool.

21 Weak tho' I am of limb, and short of sight,

Far from a Lynx, and not a Giant quite,

I'll do what MEAD and CHESELDEN advise,

To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes.

Not to 22 go back, is somewhat to advance,

And Men must walk at least before they dance.

Say, does thy 23 blood rebel, thy bosom move

With wretched Avarice, or as wretched Love?

Know, there are Words, and Spells, which can controll

(24 Between the Fits) this Fever of the soul:

Know, there are Rhymes, which (25 fresh and fresh apply'd)

Will cure the arrant'st Puppy of his Pride.

Be 26 furious, envious, slothful, mad or drunk,

27 Slave to a Wife or Vassal to a Punk,

A Switz, a High-dutch, or a Low-dutch 28 Bear—

All that we ask is but a patient Ear.

29 'Tis the first Virtue, Vices to abhor;

And the first Wisdom to be Fool no more.

But to the world, no 30 bugbear is so great,

As want of figure, and a small Estate.

To either India see the Merchant fly,

Scar'd at the spectre of pale Poverty!

See him, with pains of body, pangs of soul,

Burn through the Tropic, freeze beneath the Pole!

Wilt thou do nothing for a nobler end,

Nothing, to make Philosophy thy friend?

To stop thy foolish views, thy long desires,

And 32 ease thy heart of all that it admires?

Here, Wisdom calls: 33 "Seek Virtue first! be bold!

" As Gold to Silver, Virtue is to Gold."

There, London's voice: 34 "Get Mony, Mony still!

" And then let Virtue follow, if she will."

This, this the saving doctrine, preach'd to all,

From 35 low St. James's up to high St. Paul;

From him whose 36 quills stand quiver'd at his ear,

To him who notches Sticks at Westminster.

BARNARD in 37 spirit, sense, and truth abounds.

" Pray then what wants he?" fourscore thousand pounds,

A Pension, or such Harness for a slave

As Bug now has, and Bestia fain would have.

BARNARD, thou art a 38 Cit, with all thy worth;

Bestia and Bug, Their Honours, and so forth.

Yet every 39 child another song will sing,

" Virtue, brave boys! 'tis Virtue makes a King."

True, conscious Honour is to feel no sin,

He's arm'd without that's innocent within;

Be this thy 40 Screen, and this thy Wall of Brass;

Compar'd to this, a Minister's an Ass.

41 And say, to which shall our applause belong,

This new Court jargon, or the good old song?

The modern language of corrupted Peers,

Or what was spoke at 42 CRESSY and POITIERS?

43 Who counsels best? who whispers, "Be but Great,

" With Praise or Infamy, leave that to fate;

" Get Place and Wealth, if possible, with Grace;

" If not, by any means get Wealth and Place.

For what? to have a 44 Box where Eunuchs sing,

And foremost in the Circle eye a King.

Or 45 he, who bids thee face with steddy view

Proud Fortune, and look shallow Greatness thro':

And, 46 while he bids thee, sets th' Example too?

If 47 such a Doctrine, in St. James's air,

Shou'd chance to make the well-drest Rabble stare;

If honest S* take scandal at a spark,

That less admires the 48 Palace than the Park;

Faith I shall give the answer 49 Reynard gave,

" I cannot like, Dread Sir! your Royal Cave;

" Because I see by all the Tracks about,

" Full many a Beast goes in, but none comes out."

Adieu to Virtue if you're once a Slave:

Send her to Court, you send her to her Grave.

Well, if a King's a Lion, at the least

The 50 People are a many-headed Beast:

Can they direct what measures to pursue,

Who know themselves so little what to do?

Alike in nothing but one Lust of Gold,

Just half the land would buy, and half be sold:

Their 51 Country's wealth our mightier Misers drain,

Or cross, to plunder Provinces, the Main:

The rest, some farm the Poor-box, some the Pews;

Some keep Assemblies, and wou'd keep the Stews;

Some 52 with fat Bucks on childless Dotards fawn;

Some win rich Widows by their Chine and Brawn;

While with the silent growth of ten per Cent,

In Dirt and darkness 53 hundreds stink content.

Of all these ways, if each 54 pursues his own,

Satire be kind, and let the wretch alone.

But show me one, who has it in his pow'r

To act consistent with himself an hour.

Sir Job 55 sail'd forth, the evening bright and still,

" No place on earth (he cry'd) like Greenwich hill!"

56 Up starts a Palace, lo! th' obedient base

Slopes at its foot, the woods its sides embrace,

The silver Thames reflects its marble face.

Now let some whimzy, or that 57 Dev'l within

Which guides all those who know not what they mean

But give the Knight (or give his Lady) spleen;

" Away, away! take all your scaffolds down,

" For Snug's the word: My dear! we'll live in Town."

At am'rous Flavio is the 58 Stocking thrown?

That very night he longs to lye alone.

59 The Fool whose Wife elopes some thrice a quarter,

For matrimonial Solace dies a martyr.

Did ever 60 Proteus, Merlin, any Witch,

Transform themselves so strangely as the Rich?

" Well, but the 61 Poor—the Poor have the same itch:

They change their 63 weekly Barber, weekly News,

Prefer a new Japanner to their shoes,

Discharge their 62 Garrets, move their Beds, and run

(They know not whither) in a Chaise and one;

They 64 hire their Sculler, and when once aboard,

Grow sick, and damn the Climate—like a Lord,

65 You laugh, half Beau half Sloven if I stand,

My Wig all powder, and all snuff my Band;

You laugh, if Coat and Breeches strangely vary,

White Gloves, and Linnen worthy Lady Mary!

But when 66 no Prelate's Lawn with Hair-shirt lin'd,

Is half so incoherent as my Mind,

When (each Opinion with the next at strife,

One 67 ebb and flow of follies all my Life)

I 68 plant, root up, I build, and then confound,

Turn round to square, and square again to round;

69 You never change one muscle of your face,

You think this Madness but a common case,

Nor 70 once to Chanc'ry, nor to [*]Hales apply;

Yet hang your lip, to see a Seam awry!

Careless how ill I with myself agree;

Kind to my dress, my figure, not to Me.

Is this my 71 Guide, Philosopher, and Friend?

This, He who loves me, and who ought to mend?

Who ought to make me (what he can, or none,)

That Man divine whom Wisdom calls her own,

Great without Title, without Fortune bless'd,

Rich 73 ev'n when plunder'd, 75 honour'd while oppress'd,

Lov'd 76 without youth, and follow'd without power,

At home tho' exil'd, 74 free, tho' in the Tower.

In short, that reas'ning, high, immortal Thing,

Just 72 less than Jove, and 77 much above a King,

Nay half in Heav'n—78 except (what's mighty odd)

A Fit of Vapours clouds this Demi-god.

Notes

*
The Doctor of Bedlam.
↵

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Title statement

The first epistle of the first book of Horace imitated: By Mr. Pope.

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744.

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1106006763

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9781106006769

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— The first epistle of the first book of Horace imitated: By Mr. Pope., Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744.. [2],19,[1]p. ; 2⁰. London :: printed for R. Dodsley, and sold by T. Cooper,. 1737 [1738]. ["Pric I s." on titlepage; pp.18-19 correctly numbered.] ["Apparently reset except for sheet E and part of F" (Foxon).] [Publication date from Griffith.] [Parallel Latin and English texts.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [Foxon, P878] [Griffith, 481] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT5661.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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