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FROM THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL - Alexander Pope, The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope [1903]

Edition used:

The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope. Cambridge Edition, ed. Henry W. Boynton (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1903).

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FROM THE GRUB-STREET JOURNAL

This Journal was established in January, 1730, and carried on for eight years by Pope and his friends, in answer to the attacks provoked by the Dunciad. It corresponds in some measure to the Xenien of Goethe and Schiller. Only such pieces are here inserted as bear Pope’s distinguishing signature A.; several others are probably his. (Ward.)

I

EPIGRAM

Occasioned by seeing some sheets of Dr. Bentley’s edition of Milton’s Paradise Lost.

  • Did Milton’s prose, O Charles, thy death defend?
  • A furious Foe unconscious proves a Friend.
  • On Milton’s verse does Bentley comment?—Know
  • A weak officious Friend becomes a Foe.
  • While he but sought his Author’s fame to further,
  • The murd’rous critic has avenged thy murder.

II

EPIGRAM

  • Should D[enni]s print, how once you robb’d your brother,
  • Traduced your monarch, and debauch’d your mother;
  • Say, what revenge on D[enni]s can be had;
  • Too dull for laughter, for reply too mad?
  • Of one so poor you cannot take the law;
  • On one so old your sword you scorn to draw.
  • Uncaged then let the harmless monster rage,
  • Secure in dulness, madness, want, and age.

III

MR. J. M. S[MYTH]E

CATECHISED ON HIS ONE EPISTLE TO MR. POPE

  • What makes you write at this odd rate?
  • Why, Sir, it is to imitate.
  • What makes you steal and trifle so?
  • Why, ’t is to do as others do.
  • But there ’s no meaning to be seen.
  • Why, that ’s the very thing I mean.

IV

EPIGRAM

ON MR. M[OO]RE’S GOING TO LAW WITH MR. GILIVER: INSCRIBED TO ATTORNEY TIBBALD

  • Once in his life M[oo]re judges right:
  • His sword and pen not worth a straw,
  • An author that could never write,
  • A gentleman that dares not fight,
  • Has but one way to tease—by law.
  • This suit, dear Tibbald, kindly hatch;
  • Thus thou may’st help the sneaking elf;
  • And sure a printer is his match,
  • Who ’s but a publisher himself.

V

EPIGRAM

  • A gold watch found on cinder whore,
  • Or a good verse on J[emm]y M[oor]e,
  • Proves but what either should conceal,
  • Not that they’re rich, but that they steal.

VI

EPITAPH

ON JAMES MOORE-SMYTHE

  • Here lies what had nor birth, nor shape, nor fame;
  • No gentleman! no man! no-thing! no name!
  • For Jamie ne’er grew James; and what they call
  • More, shrunk to Smith—and Smith ’s no name at all.
  • Yet die thou can’st not, phantom, oddly fated:
  • For how can no-thing be annihilated?

VII

A QUESTION BY ANONYMOUS

  • Tell, if you can, which did the worse,
  • Caligula or Gr[afto]n’s Gr[a]ce?
  • That made a Consul of a horse,
  • And this a Laureate of an ass.

VIII

EPIGRAM

The sting of this epigram was for Cibber, then Poet Laureate.

  • Great G[eorge] such servants since thou well canst lack,
  • Oh! save the salary, and drink the sack.

IX

EPIGRAM

  • Behold! ambitious of the British bays,
  • Cibber and Duck contend in rival lays,
  • But, gentle Colley, should thy verse prevail,
  • Thou hast no fence, alas! against his flail:
  • Therefore thy claim resign, allow his right:
  • For Duck can thresh, you know, as well as write.