Give  up  your  fond  paternal  pride,  i

Nor  argue  on  the  weaker  side  :
For  poenib  read  without  a  name
We  justly  praise,  or  justly  blame  ;
And  critics  have  no  partial  views,
Except  they  know  whom  they  abuse  :
And,  since  you  ne'er  provoke  their  spite.
Depend  upon  't  their  judgment's  right.
But  if  you  blab,  you  are  undone  :
Consider  what  a  risk  you  run  :
You  lose  your  credit  all  at  once ;
The  town  will  mark  you  for  a  dunce  ;
The  vilest  doggrel,  Grub-street  sends,
Will  pass  for  yours  with  foes  and  friends ;
And  you  must  bear  the  whole  disgrace.
Till  some  fresh  blockhead  takes  your  place.
Your  secret  kept,  your  poem  sunk.
And  sent  in  quires  to  line  a  trunk,
If  still  you  be  disposed  to  rhyme,
Gro  try  your  hand  a  second  time.
Again  you  fail :  yet  Safe  's  the  word ;
Take  courage,  and  attempt  a  thu^l.
But  first  with  care  employ  your  thoughts
Where  critics  mark'd  your  former  faults  ;
The  trivial  turns,  the  borrow'd  wit,
The  similes  that  nothing  fit ;
The  cant  which  every  fool  repeats,
Town  jests  and  coflfee-house  conceits  ;
Descriptions  tedious,  flat,  and  dry.
And  introduced  the  Lord  knows  why  :
Or  where  we  find  your  fury  set
Against  the  harmless  alphabet ;
And  A's  and  B's  your  malice  vent.
While  readers  wonder  whom  you  meant ;
A  public  or  a  private  robber,
A  statesman,  or  a  South-sea  jobber  ;
A  prelate  who  no  God  believes  ;
A  parliament,  or  den  of  thieves  ;
A  pick-purse  at  the  bar  or  bench  ;
A  duchess,  or  a  suburb  wench  :
Or  oft,  when  epithets  you  link
In  gaping  lines  to  fill  a  chink  ;
Like  stepping-stones  to  save  a  stride.
