No More Learning

'Tis all a libel--Paxton (sir) will say. }
P. Not yet, my friend! to-morrow 'faith it may }
And for that very cause I print to-day. }
How should I fret to mangle every line,
In reverence to the sins of thirty-nine!
Vice with such giant strides comes on amain,
Invention strives to be before in vain;
Feign what I will, and paint it e'er so strong,
Some rising genius sins up to my song.
F. Yet none but you by name the guilty lash;
Even Guthry saves half Newgate by a dash.
Spare, then, the person, and expose the vice.
P. How, sir? not damn the sharper, but the dice?
Come on, then, satire! general, unconfined,
Spread thy broad wing, and souse on all the kind.
Ye statesmen, priests, of one religion all!
Ye tradesmen vile, in army, court, or hall,
Ye reverend atheists--
F. Scandal! name them! who?
P. Why that's the thing you bid me not to do.
Who starved a sister, who forswore a debt,
I never named; the town's inquiring yet.
The poisoning dame--
F. You mean--
P. I don't.
F. You do!
P. See, now I keep the secret, and not you!
The bribing statesman--
F. Hold, too high you go.