Verses on Reading Lord Lyttelton's New Dialogues of the Dead, and Seeing His Lordship's Picture at W—'s

Are these the Dialogues of the Dead?—
The speakers are alive,
And say what, ages-past, they said,
Again in sixty-five.

Such converse charms in ev'ry page,
No wonder all admire it:
'Tis strange though, where, in this dull age,
His Lordship should acquire it.

He deals not with the devil, they say,
Yet I was once in doubt;
But in Great Queen-street, t'other day,
I found the secret out.

Calling at W—'s, behold
The man, to rise unable;
Yet, rais'd by him, the dead of old,
Were rang'd around the table.

Above him, just about to write,
With countenance observant,
Lord Lyttelton sat, full in sight—
"My Lord, your humble servant."

Touch'd by the artist's curious hand,
Each ven'rable antique
So looks, his thoughts you understand,
And think you hear him speak.

Can then his Lordship fail to write,
As ancient Sages say,
The gems of W— in his sight
Remaining night and day?