The Queen of Dreams, well pleas'd to find An undisturb'd and vacant mind,
With magic pencil trac'd my brain,
And there the drew St. Patrick's Dean.
I ftraight beheld on either hand
Two Saints, like Guardian Angels, stand,
And either claim'd him for their fon;
And thus the high dispute begun.
St. Andrew firft, with reafon ftrong,
Maintain'd to him he did belong :
"Swift is my own, by right divine,
"All born upon this day are mine."
St. Patrick faid, "I own this true,
So far he does belong to you:
"But in my church he 's born again,
My fon adopted, and my Dean.
"When firft the Chriftian-truth I spread,
"The poor within this ifle I fed,
"And darkest errors banifh'd hence,
"Made knowledge in their place commence ;
"Nay more, at my divine command,
"All noxious creatures fled the land.
"I made both Peace and Plenty fmile.
"Hibernia was my favourite isle;
for he fucceeds to me,
"Now his
"Two angels cannot more agree.
"His joy is, to relieve the poor;
"Behold them weekly at his door!
"His knowledge too, in brightest rays,
"He like the fun to all conveys,
"Shews wisdom in a fingle page,
"And in one hour instructs an age.
"When ruin lately ftood around
"Th' inclofures of my facred ground, "He gloriously did interpofe,
"And fav'd it from invading foes; "For this I claim immortal Swift,
“As my own fon, and Heaven's best gift."
The Caledonian Saint, enrag'd,
Now clofer in difpute engag'd,
Effays to prove, by tranfmigration,
The Dean is of the Scottish nation;
And, to confirm the truth, he chofe
The loyal foul of great Montrofe.
"Montrofe and He are both the fame,
They only differ in the name:
"Both, heroes in a righteous caufe, "Affert their liberties and laws;
"He's now, the fame, Montrofe was then,
"But that the fword is turn'd a pen ;
"A pen of fo great power, each word
"Defends beyond the hero's fword."
Now words grew high-
Immortals ever come to blows;
But, left unruly paffion fhould
Degrade them into flesh and blood,
An angel quick from Heaven defcends,
And he at once the conteft ends:
"Ye reverend pair, from difcord cease, "Ye both mistake the prefent cafe;
"One kingdom cannot have pretence
"To fo much virtue! fo much sense:
"Search Heaven's record; and there you
"That He was born for all mankind."
EPISTLE to ROBERT NUGENT, Esq; with a PICTURE of DEAN SWIFT.
BY DR. DUNKIN*.
To gratify thy long defire
(So Love and Piety require),
From Bindon's † colours you may trace
The Patriot's venerable face,
The laft, O Nugent! which his art
Shall ever to the world impart ;
For know, the prime of mortal men,
That matchlefs monarch of the pen
(Whofe labours, like the genial fun,
Shall through revolving ages run,
Yet never, like the fun, decline,
But in their full meridian fhine),
That ever-honour'd, envied Sage,
So long the wonder of his
Who charm'd us with his golden ftrain,
Is not the fhadow of the Dean :
*This elegant tribute of gratitude, as it was written at a period when all fufpicion of flattery muft vanish, reflects the highest honour on the ingenious Writer, and cannot but be agreeable to the admirers of Dr. Swift. N. Samuel Bindon, efq; a celebrated painter. N.
He only breathes Baotian air
"Oh! what a falling-off was there!"
Hibernia's Helicon is dry,
Invention, Wit, and Humour die;
And what remains againft the form
Of Malice, but an empty form
The nodding ruins of a pile,
That ftood the bulwark of this life;
In which the fifterhood was Exd
Of candid Honour, Truth yom xt,
Impartial Reason, Thougie proforat,
And Charity, diffußng reund,
In cheerful rivulers, the fow
Of Fortune to the fons of woe?
Such once, my Nugem, was dy bek, Endued with each exalted gift
But, lo! the pure thereal flame
Is darken'd by a mifty fteam:
The balm exhaufted breathes no fuel",
The rofe is wither'd ere it feil.
That godlike fupplement of law,
Which held the wicked world in awe,
And could the tide of faction from,
Is but a fhell without the gem.
Ye fons of genius, who would aim
To build an everlasting fame,
And, in the field of letter'd arts,
Difplay the trophies of your parts,
To yonder manfion turn afide,
And mortify your growing pride,
Behold the brightest of the race,
And Nature's honour, in difgrace :
With humble resignation own,
That all your talents are a loan;
By Providence advanc'd for ufe,
Which you should study to produce.
Reflect, the mental ftock, alas !
However current now it país,
May haply be recall❜d from you
Before the Grave demands his due.
Then, while your morning-ftar proceeds,
Direct your course to worthy deeds,
In fuller day difcharge your debts;
For, when your fun of reason fets,
The night fucceeds; and all your fchemes.
Of glory vanifh with your dreams.
Ah! where is now the fupple train,
That danc'd attendance on the Dean?
Say, where are thofe facetious folks,
Who fhook with laughter at his jokes,
And with attentive rapture hung
On wifdom dropping from his tongue;
Who look'd with high difdainful pride
On all the bufy world befide,
And rated his productions more
Than treasures of Peruvian ore?
Good Chriftians! they with bended knees
Ingulph'd the wine, but loath the lees,
Averting (fo the text commands),
With ardent eyes and up-caft hands,
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