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onkeys:) On either bank from bough to bough, They meet and chat (as we may now): Whispers go round, they grin, they shrug, They bow, they snarl, they scratch, they hug; And, just as chance or whim provoke them, They either bite their friends, or stroke them. There have I seen some active prig, To show his parts, bestride a twig: Lord! how the chatt'ring tribe admire! Not that he's wiser, but he's higher: All long to try the vent'rous thing, (For power is but to have one's swing). From side to side he springs, he spurns, And bangs his foes and friends by turns. Thus as in giddy freaks he bounces, Crack goes the twig, and in he flounces! Down the swift stream the wretch is borne; Never, ah never, to return! Zounds! what a fall had our dear brother! Morbleu! cries one; and damme, t'other. The nation gives a general screech; None cocks his tail, none claws his breech; Each trembles for the public weal, And for a while forgets to steal. Awhile all eyes intent and steady Pursue him whirling down the eddy: But, out of mind when out of view, Some other mounts the twig anew; And business on each monkey shore Runs the same track it ran before. [Footnote 182: Coffee-house near St. James's.] ALEXANDER POPE. (1688-1744.) XXXV. THE DUNCIAD--THE DESCRIPTION OF DULNESS. One of the most scathing satires in the history of literature. Pope in the latest editions of it rather spoilt its point by substituting Colley Gibber for Theobald as the "hero" of it. Our text is from the edition of 1743. The satire first appeared in 1728, and other editions, greatly altered, were issued in 1729, 1742, 1743. The mighty mother, and her son, who brings The Smithfield muses[183] to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, her instruments the great! Called to this work by Dulness, Jove, and fate: You by whose care, in vain decried and curst, Still Dunce the second reigns like Dunce the first; Say, how the goddess bade Britannia sleep, And poured her spirit o'er the land and deep. In eldest time, ere mortals writ or read, Ere Pallas issued from the Thunderer's head, Dulness o'er all possessed her ancient right, Daughter of chaos and eternal night: Fate in their dotage this fair idiot gave, Gross as her sire, and as her mother grave Laborious, heavy, busy, bold, and blind, She ruled, in native anarchy,
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