Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/180

170 Be silent as a politician, For talking may beget suspicion: Or praise the judgment of the town, And help yourself to run it down. Give up your fond paternal pride, Nor argue on the weaker side: For, poems read without a name We justly praise, or justly blame; And criticks 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 dispos'd to rhyme, Go try your hand a second time. Again you fail: yet Safe's the word; Take courage, and attempt a third. But first with care employ your thoughts Where criticks 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 coffeehouse conceits, Descriptions tedious, flat and dry, And introduc'd the Lord knows why: Or