vert lay his dreaming Hounds,
And bay'd the fancy'd Boar with feeble Sounds:
For nobler Sports he quits the savage Fields,
And all the Hero to the Lover yields._

FINIS.

[Decoration]

* * * * *
* * * *

[Transcriber's Note:

Footnotes are here shown between stanzas. The labels (a, b, c) are
unchanged.]

The

_BLATANT-BEAST._

a

POEM.

What is that Blatant-Beast? Then he reply'd.
It is a Monster bred of hellish Race,
Then answered he, which often hath annoy'd
Good Knights and Ladies true, and many else destroy'd.
SPENCER's Fairy Queen, Book VI. Canto I.

No Might, no Greatness in Mortality
Can Censure 'scape: Back-wounding Calumny
The whitest Virtue strikes. What King so strong,
Can tye the Gall up in sland'rous Tongue?
SHAKESPEAR.

[Decoration]

_LONDON:_

Printed for J. ROBINSON, at the _Golden Lyon_
in _Ludgate-street_.

MDCCXLII.

[Decoration]

The

_BLATANT-BEAST_

a

POEM.

Beauty, the fondling Mother's earliest Pray'r,
Nature's kind Gift to sweeten worldly Care.
Beauty the greatest Extasy imparts,
Steals thro' our Eyes, and revels in our Hearts;
Adds Lustre to a Crown, gives Weight to Sense,
The Orator assists in Truth's Defence.
The very Fool our Hearts resistless warms,
And while we curse the Tongue, the Figure charms.
If Beauty be the Subject of our Praise,
A rude, mishapen Lump Contempt must raise.

When _Lucifer_ with Angels held first Place,
Seraphic Beauty sparkled in his Face.
By Pride and Malice tempted to rebel,
Vengeance pursu'd him to the lowest Hell:
Not sulph'rous Lakes suffic'd, nor dreary Plains;
Deformity was join'd t' improve his Pains.

Paint then the Person, and expose the Mind,
Who rails at others, to his own Faults blind.
Sly _Sancho_'s Paunch, meagre _Don Quixot_'s Love,
The Satyr and the Ridicule improve.
So when fam'd _Butler_ wou'd Rebellion paint,
He lasht the Traitor and the Mimic Saint.
Sir _Hudibras_ he sung; the crumpled Wight,
Contempt and Laughter ever will excite.

The Blatant-Beast once more has broke his Chains,
Disperses Falshoods, and remorseless reigns.
Scornful of all thy Verses dare design,
(Where useless Epithets crowd ev'ry Line,)
The Blatant-Beast shall be afresh pursu'd,
Nor cease my Labours till again