The Weſterniad:
A Heroi-Tragical Poem
in Twelve Very Short Books.

ooks and the 'Stangs I ſing, the firſt to ſport
With the Purple Muſe, and to give her court.
Inſpire my lay of dear Auguſtab ſmall
(For we Auguſta do our home ſtill call).
Alſo of this, our race of heroes who
Above their peers ſoar and with powers new,
Thus prove their force of wit, and mental ſtrength,
That does to Truth burſt forth at length,
By Piſcean ſtrivingsc of might and main,
So they their GPA ſhould ſtill maintain,
'Till by monſt'rous ſcholars they laſt are prov'd
Sing, Heav'nly Muſe! Say firſt, what was that mov'd
ThatMyrmidon of Book, Hector of Pen

aThe author here thinks to inſinuate a compariſon between his drollery, and the incomparable Æneid of Virgil, vid. Armorum virumque canto; a pretty conceit not without merit in view of the grandneſs of the ſubject. The ſpecious ſuggeſtion that the alluſion is inſtead here to the Dunciad of Pope is groundleſs, as it is clear that this is no mock.M.S.

bAuguſta is employed, I take it, by analogy with that name as uſed in reference to the great City of London in England; vide Dryden's Abſalom and Achitophel. The analogy is a falſe one, as there is in none of the Roman Hiſtorians the hint that the New World London was ever ſo called. Poetic licence ſeems to have here prevailed, but we are reminded that even great Homer does ſometimes nod. M.S.

c. This epithet, heroic though it undoubtedly is, ſeems ill adviſed; "piſcean" ſeems choſen, I conjecture, by vertue of the fact that fiſh do move in "ſchools," as do our poet's ſcholars. Quare, whether Milton does not puſh his metaphors thus alſo? J.C. Scaliger

To till the ſoil of Engliſh Lit. Say then
What he chanc'd to find within this learn'd hall,
Whether Bacon's arch did give threat to fall,
Where he ſought Love, if aught of that be found
In a breaſt ſo arm'd with valour all round.

Whilſt grave Chiron ſtood threatn'ing o'er his flock,
His gaze with impatience upon the clock,
And his charges a mute, more reſtleſs band,
Then did brave Peleus raiſe high his hand.
As when the wind o'er a corn field does ſway,
And ſweeps rows of tares while marking its way,
So too did waves of penſive heads faſt turn,
T'enquire what now this paragon would learn.
Thus spake Peleus, fleet of mind: