THE Old Woman's DUNCIAD

O Thou, whatever Title to thine Ear, Whether Tom Jones, Joe Andrews, or what not, Sound pleasing: thou, to my aspiring Song Indulgent smile, while to high Pindus Top, Apex excelse! I volitate, nor frown Elenthical. Of Dunces, and the Tribe Of Nose-obesate, atramental Sons I sing: nor PHOEBUS call, but to my Aid Invoke MELPOMENE, of all the nine My chief, best Patron; and THALIA, thou, Haste thee from Avon's Banks, nor cull more Flow'rs For Shakespear's Wreath: but help t' assist my Flight; For high on Pegasean Wing, I mean To soar velocitate. O swifter far Than fleet the winged Atoms in the Air, When Auster its Euroclydon dilates: Or when pervading Night excessive pours The Twilight dun; with archimagic Art, (A thrice repeated Charm by Hecate taught!) The Dame venefic, on a Virgult borne, Or courser stramentitious, Aether Wings.

Thanks to the Power of Verse! lo! now I soar And lo! the House of Dullness is in view See tow'ring Paul's eeclesiastic Dome Its Head rears altitudinate: O far The meaner emulating Tribe above Of Spires parochial: so fam'd Cambria's Hills. Like Alps on Alps, Pelion o'er Ossa pil'd High as Olympus, lose in airy Height Their Heads; as antient as the Pen of Time. There is a Cave fast by the House of Pray'r, Where Hebetudo dwells; so low its Site, That it may merit well speluncal Name. Its vestibule that gulphy Influx near, Where the Colluvian Current pouring on, Rushing sonorous Falls the hoarse Cascade, Th' illucid Lapse adown, with Torrent thick Regurgling lutulent. The Cave within The torpid Wretch, by igneal Glimmer seen. With Succubus Canidia, by that Name If rightly she be call'd, sit hov'ring. So In culmiferous Fields or frondose Woods, With all their Opulence and native Worth, Th' Egyptian Tribe itinerant repose At prandial Noon, and dire mundungus Fume: So they the lov'd Nicotian masticate, Or thro' Shiptonian Syrinx it inhale, Fumifical: while in her better Hand The Goddess a Pyxidicule sustains, And Autographs and Schedals grace her Right. Her daily Lucubrations! Thoughts prelaute! Thoughts which her meditative Owl inspires. For he, the Sodale of her studious Hours, Sung ululatious; contemplating deep. Bright Contemplation! dignate of himself! Illustrious Son of Hebetudo's Race!

O all ye num'rous Tribe, who in her Cave Delight to dwell; of you the Muse shall sing. The Verse as a Mnemosynum accept, And erst with poplicolal Hand repay.

Within this sacred Cave where Hebes dwells, In this her sluggish Pomp, her Sons attend; Each to the nodding Head and beck'ning Eye Obsequious. Chief, sapient Bubo first Stands pendent; in his mounted Carcer held Restrictive. Here he genders Thought on Thought, As 'tween his Nods meditabundate, Want And Hunger gaunt awake his bardate Soul.

Ah Miser those who fall in Dulness snare! More fatal hers than Circe's Charms of Yore, Which porcufied Ulysses vagrant train! Say, Muse, how Ebenezer, by her Pow'r, From human Frame into bubonic Form Fell metamorphos'd (so Ascalaphus. Son Acherontic! by rag'd Proserpine Was verted hapless) once solertial Smart, He laugh'd and sung; e'er yet Canidia curst, Her macerated Corps in Sacell laid; Where, in the Form of Vacuum, she dwelt, And banish'd ev'ry Golden, Rhyming Thought. Just then, in fatal Hour grave Hebes woke, And in her leaden Hand a Crustule bore: Charm more coercive to th' inedial Goût, Then noctial Incantation of an Hag, Than orient Tal'sman or mysterious Cast. By learn'd Genethliac made. Ah! luckless! Ah! He took and eat; and from that Moment sunk Mancipial Immolation to her Will. And now, whene'er the Coenal Hour is nigh, Behold her potent Wand, her Paxil, waves And he, in Cell sublime, a Bird of Night, Screams hideous, or, in Dormitation mounts Aquiline Wings, and in Etherial Space Builds castral Edifices: Or he's pent, In Shape Mustelar, to the Goddess' Use Subservient; or, perverted into Form Anicular, he verrates coenal Trash. With miscellaneous Art; cracks kernell'd Nuts Or mumbles Grace twice o'er; and grinning shews His toothless Gums. Ah void of Pow'r to hurt! Next him, as next in Erudition taught, From Oxon's fam'd Gymnasial lo! he comes; For whom, on Isis' Banks, first founding Fame The Student's, Honour, circumclangor'd wide With Buccination: metamorphos'd now, Behold him into a Monedule turn'd, Rostrate th' ingenial Cloac: Labour vile! Or, in Theristral, femininely clad, Assist the Trump of Fame debilitate With Garrulations; while sage Bubo dreams Of Domes Chimaeric; Domes too dearly bought! For here no stipend Earth, nor Art piles up The sculptur'd Stone, nor glow enflaming Kilns. To dense the conculated Clay; and yet For this, he shares the Cibals of the Day. The next Inhabitant of Hebes Cave! Third fav'rite Son! Frigidio calls my Song, Whose worth thro' Fame's loud retrovent respires. Behold, with gloomy Brow, contracted Frown, In hypocondriac cephalalgiac vext, He sits contristate; manducating Thoughts In vaccal Rumination; for alas! Pollution braccial, oviparous Care Him deep affects. O say, celestial Muse, From what fell Cause this cacatural Woe Her darling Child befell. So will'd the Fates, That in accursed Hour, on vile Intent. Smack'em, a hostile and mischievous Wight, Enter'd this Cavern of Cimmerian Gloom, And, with Combustion dire, he mouthed out Verbose, stentorian Execrations, big With Fate portentous and terrific Wrath. Frigidio shiver'd with gelatic Fear; And thro' th' intestine Cavern Murmurs roar'd. Direful Presage of some descending III! Which now to fly (but who from Fate can fly?) He festinates precipitate: but lo! The Lasanon's no more. Fate inbenign! In Deflagration blazing! see it sink In Cinefaction. Dire Amazement! ah! His Fears irrupt deorsate; while alas! Distain'd, he sends Effluvias baleful round: As when the Son of Excrement and Night, High on his merdose Vehicle uprear'd, Attaints the Breeze nocturnal: violent, At first the antiaromatic strikes The Nose inflating: till by slow Degrees The ambient Air itself edulcorates, And in Euthanasy the Stench decays.

O fam'd Carnan, thou Prototype of Curl, Be this thy Fate: the superfluent Pan T' evacuate, or with thy Hands immers'd In the lutulent Flood, to pict or gild Thy rubrick Post; till like horreal Valve It beam refulgent. But hark! what Clamours strike the Tympanum Auricular! Remains there ought as yet Amid this Cave within the Muses' lore! A calamarian Crowd in Limbo lo! Like the fam'd Naiads, rage, with curved Arm, In monomachial War, and cruel Strife. Those, chiefly, who by Smack'em's potent Hand Late fell inglorious. Dunciadus, thou Thou Entity, of universal Fame, Thou greatest Crocodile, and greater yet Illustrious Woodville! Ha! what do I see? Our eastern Bramin raise his virile Hoar Most venerable, with each motley Scribe Magirist, Student, Disputant, what not? Muse shut the Scene, the Soul enslaving Scene Or Hebetudo's potent Wand will make Ev'n me to nod.

Now is that Work compleat, that mighty Work, Which dignate in insculptur'd Brass to shine, Or macrocolum typ'd, so long shall live As the didascal Sage the virgult Shakes In Vapulations Let no Censor then Deem this a Song of Folly, or austere, Call it a Cacosyntheton, or me Stygmatize, with Hyberbation Name. But if fond Regard fot modern Verse, Deserve Exsibilation, or the Frown Of quaint Derision. If 'tis so let loose, The Storm of Momus, I can bear it all.