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then droops the child of song, Pensive, forlorn, as if by hope forsaken! Next Inspiration comes, with godlike zeal, And dangers seem as trifies in the scale Of "vaulting bold ambition."-A warrior now.


Th' aspiring ardent son of poesy

In armour clad, mounts the Olympian hill,
To snatch the wreath, which binds Apollo's brow
And there is oft in bravery a charm,
Which gains the laurel crown from virtue's self.
So Valour gains-"the bubble reputation!"
And now the happy child of poesy

Basks in the sunny beam of Fashion! Fame'
And Fortune !-height of mimic greatness!
Next Vanity appears-that dangerous guest,
To swell the mind, with grandeur, pomp and


Like the round bellied" Justice,

- full of pride


And wisdom, and reproof, and gravity;
As fame could sanction arrogance and scorn.
Then ENVY comes, and dashes in the cup
Some bitter drops of baneful tendency,
Pois'nous to the taste of gay prosperity,
Which onward brings the age of peevishness,


Vexation, disappointment, petulance,
And premature old age-venting its spleen
An others-in itself dissatisfied

And now the last sad scene, which marks the fall Of Poesy, the loss of fame and vigour,


Speedy decline, from grandeur to decay, From vanity to imbecility,

No more "the eye in a fine phrenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to


Now all is sinking into mere oblivion, "Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing




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