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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415293" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On The Report Of A Monument To Be Erected In Westminster Abbey, To The Memory Of A Late Author (Churchill)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bufo, begone! with thee may Faction's fire,<br>That hatch'd thy salamander-fame, expire.<br>Fame, dirty idol of the brainless crowd,<br>What half-made moon-calf can mistake for good!<br>Since shared by knaves of high and low degree;<br>Cromwell and Cataline: Guido Faux, and thee.<br>By nature uninspired, untaught by art;<br>With not one thought that breathes the feeling heart,<br>With not one offering vow'd to Virtue's shrine,<br>With not one pure unprostituted line;<br>Alike debauch'd in body, soul, and lays;—<br>For pension'd censure, and for pension'd praise,<br>For ribaldry, for libels, lewdness, lies,<br>For blasphemy of all the good and wise:<br>Coarse violence in coarser doggrel writ,<br>Which bawling blackguards spell'd, and took for wit:<br>For conscience, honour, slighted, spurn'd, o'erthrown:—<br>Lo! Bufo shines the minion of renown.<br>Is this the land that boasts a Milton's fire,<br>And magic Spenser's wildly warbling lyre?<br>The land that owns the omnipotence of song,<br>When Shakspeare whirls the throbbing heart along?<br>The land, where Pope, with energy divine,<br>In one strong blaze bade wit and fancy shine:<br>Whose verse, by truth in virtue's triumph born,<br>Gave knaves to infamy, and fools to scorn;<br>Yet pure in manners, and in thought refined,<br>Whose life and lays adorn'd and bless'd mankind?<br>Is this the land, where Gray's unlabour'd art<br>Soothes, melts, alarms, and ravishes the heart:<br>While the lone wanderer's sweet complainings flow<br>In simple majesty of manly woe:<br>Or while, sublime, on eagle pinion driven,<br>He soars Pindaric heights, and sails the waste of Heaven?<br>Is this the land, o'er Shenstone's recent urn,<br>Where all the Loves and gentler Graces mourn?<br>And where, to crown the hoary bard of night1,<br>The Muses and the Virtues all unite?<br>Is this the land where Akenside displays<br>The bold yet temperate flame of ancient days?<br>Like the rapt sage2, in genius as in theme,<br>Whose hallow'd strain renown'd Illyssus' stream:<br>Or him, the indignant bard3, whose patriot ire,<br>Sublime in vengeance, smote the dreadful lyre:<br>For truth, for liberty, for virtue warm,<br>Whose mighty song unnerved a tyrant's arm,<br>Hush'd the rude roar of discord, rage, and lust,<br>And spurn'd licentious demagogues to dust.<br>Is this the queen of realms? the glorious isle,<br>Britannia, blest in Heaven's indulgent smile?<br>Guardian of truth, and patroness of art,<br>Nurse of the undaunted soul, and generous heart!<br>Where, from a base unthankful world exiled,<br>Freedom exults to roam the careless wild:<br>Where taste to science every charm supplies,<br>And genius soars unbounded to the skies?<br>And shall a Bufo's most polluted name<br>Stain her bright tablet of untainted fame?<br>Shall his disgraceful name with theirs be join'd,<br>Who wish'd and wrought the welfare of their kind?<br>His name, accurst, who, leagued with——4 and Hell,<br>Labour'd to rouse, with rude and murderous yell,<br>Discord the fiend, to toss rebellion's brand,<br>To whelm in rage and woe a guiltless land:<br>To frustrate wisdom's, virtue's noblest plan,<br>And triumph in the miseries of man.<br>Drivelling and dull, when crawls the reptile Muse,<br>Swoln from the sty, and rankling from the stews,<br>With envy, spleen, and pestilence replete,<br>And gorged with dust she lick'd from Treason's feet:<br>Who once, like Satan, raised to Heaven her sight,<br>But turn'd abhorrent from the hated light:—<br>O'er such a Muse shall wreaths of glory bloom?<br>No—shame and execration be her doom.<br>Hard-fated Bufo, could not dulness save<br>Thy soul from sin, from infamy thy grave?<br>Blackmore and Quarles, those blockheads of renown,<br>Lavish'd their ink, but never harm'd the town.<br>Though this, thy brother in discordant song,<br>Harass'd the ear, and cramp'd the labouring tongue:<br>And that, like thee, taught staggering prose to stand,<br>And limp on stilts of rhyme around the land.<br>Harmless they dozed a scribbling life away,<br>And yawning nations own'd the innoxious lay,<br>But from thy graceless, rude, and beastly brain,<br>What fury breathed the incendiary strain?<br>Did hate to vice exasperate thy style?<br>No—Bufo match'd the vilest of the vile.<br>Yet blazon'd was his verse with Virtue's name—<br>Thus prudes look down to hide their want of shame:<br>Thus hypocrites to truth, and fools to sense,<br>And fops to taste, have sometimes made pretence:<br>Thus thieves and gamesters swear by honour's laws:<br>Thus pension-hunters bawl 'their country's cause:'<br>Thus furious Teague for moderation raved,<br>And own'd his soul to liberty enslaved.<br>Nor yet, though thousand cits admire thy rage,<br>Though less of fool than felon marks thy page:<br>Nor yet, though here and there one lonely spark<br>Of wit half brightens through the involving dark,<br>To show the gloom more hideous for the foil,<br>But not repay the drudging reader's toil;<br>(For who for one poor pearl of clouded ray<br>Through Alpine dunghills delves his desperate way?<br>Did genius to thy verse such bane impart?<br>No. 'Twas the demon of thy venom'd heart,<br>(Thy heart with rancour's quintessence endued).<br>And the blind zeal of a misjudging crowd.<br>Thus from rank soil a poison'd mushroom sprung,<br>Nursling obscene of mildew and of dung:<br>By Heaven design'd on its own native spot<br>Harmless to enlarge its bloated bulk, and rot.<br>But gluttony the abortive nuisance saw;<br>It roused his ravenous, undiscerning maw:<br>Gulp'd down the tasteless throat, the mess abhorr'd<br>Shot fiery influence round the maddening board.<br>O had thy verse been impotent as dull,<br>Nor spoke the rancorous heart, but lumpish scull;<br>Had mobs distinguish'd, they who howl'd thy fame,<br>The icicle from the pure diamond's flame,<br>From fancy's soul thy gross imbruted sense,<br>From dauntless truth thy shameless insolence,<br>From elegance confusion's monstrous mass,<br>And from the lion's spoils the skulking ass,<br>From rapture's strain the drawling doggrel line,<br>From warbling seraphim the grunting swine;<br>With gluttons, dunces, rakes, thy name had slept,<br>Nor o'er her sullied fame Britannia wept:<br>Nor had the Muse, with honest zeal possess'd,<br>To avenge her country, by thy name disgraced,<br>Raised this bold strain for virtue, truth, mankind,<br>And thy fell shade to infamy resign'd.<br>When frailty leads astray the soul sincere,<br>Let mercy shed the soft and manly tear.<br>When to the grave descends the sensual sot,<br>Unnamed, unnoticed, let his carrion rot.<br>When paltry rogues, by stealth, deceit, or force,<br>Hazard their necks, ambitious of your purse:<br>For such the hangman wreaths his trusty gin,<br>And let the gallows expiate their sin.<br>But when a ruffian, whose portentous crimes,<br>Like plagues and earthquakes terrify the times,<br>Triumphs through life, from legal judgment free,<br>For Hell may hatch what law could ne'er foresee:<br>Sacred from vengeance shall his memory rest?—<br>Judas, though dead, though damn'd, we still detest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Beattie">James Beattie</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415293" data-title="On The Report Of A Monument To Be Erected In Westminster Abbey, To The Memory Of A Late Author (Churchill)" data-description="Bufo, begone! with thee may Faction's fire,
That hatch'd thy salamander-fame, expire.
Fame, dirty idol of the brainless crowd,
What half-made moon-calf can mistake for good!
Since shared by knaves of high and low degree;
Cromwell and Cataline: Gui..."></div>
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