Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie. 20





* * * * *





THE DESCENT OF DULLNESS

[From the 'Dunciad', Book IV]


In vain, in vain--the all-composing Hour
Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the Pow'r.
She comes! she comes! the sable Throne behold
Of _Night_ primaeval and of _Chaos_ old!
Before her, _Fancy's_ gilded clouds decay, 5
And all its varying Rain-bows die away.
_Wit_ shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain; 10
As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,