SATIRE II.

Y Muse, proceed, and reach thy de-stin’d end.

Tho’ -or'/,and danger the bold task attend;Heroes , and Gods make other poems fine,

Plain Satire calls for fense in every line;

Then, to what swarms thy faults I dare expose ?All friends to vice y and folly are thy foes;

When such the foe, a war eternal wage,

? Tis most Ill-nature to repress* thy rage ;

And if these (trains some nobler Muse excite,

I’ll glory in the verse I did not write.

C 4 Sa