In Country Beauties as we often see,
Something that takes in their simplicity.
Yet while they charm, they know not they are fair,
And take without their spreading of the snare;
Such Artless beauty lies in Shakespears wit,
'Twas well in spight of him what ere he writ.
His Excellencies came and were not sought,
His words like causal Atoms made a thought:
Drew up themselves in Rank and File, and writ,
He wondring how the Devil it were such wit.
Thus like the drunken Tinker, in his Play,
He grew a Prince, and never knew which way.
He did not know what trope or Figure meant,
But to perswade is to be eloquent,
So in this Caesar which this day you see,
Tully ne'r spoke as he makes Anthony,
Those then that tax his Learning are too blame,
He knew the thing, but did not know the Name:
Great Johnson did that Ignorance adore,
And though he envi'd much, admir'd him more,
The faultless Johnson equally writ well,
Shakespear made faults; but then did more excel.
One close at Guard like some old Fencer lay,
Tother more open, but he shew'd more play.
In Imitation Johnsons wit was shown,
Heaven made his men but Shakespear made his own.
Wise Johnson's talent in observing lay,
But others follies still made up his play.
He drew the like in each elaborate line,
But Shakespear like a Master did design.
Johnson with skill dissected humane kind,
And show'd their faults that they their faults might find.
But then as All Anatomists must do,
He to the meanest of mankind did go.
And took from Gibbets such as he would show.
Both are so great that he must boldly dare,
Who both of 'em does judge and both compare.
If amongst Poets one more bold there be,
The man that dare attempt in either way, is he.

(9-10)