But Dulness sits at Helm, and in this Age,
Governs on Councils, Pulpits, and the Stage
Here a dull _Councellor_ ador'd we see,
And there a Poet, duller yet than he,
With beardless Bishop, dullest of the three,
'Tis dangerous to think--
For who by thinking tempts his jealous Fate,
Is straight arraign'd as Traytor to the State,
And none that come within the Verge of Sense,
Have to Preferment now the least Pretence....