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Aat ber, atile town, and court, and city roars, Who, tho' the House was up, delighted filt's
In all but this, a man of sober life,
The Tangle late two brother Serjeants faw, Not quite a madman tho'a pafty fell,
And much too wise to walk into a well. [murd, With equal talents, these congenial souls, (Rolls; Him the damnd Doctors and his Friends imOne lulia th' Exchequer, and one stunn'd the They bled, they cuppd, they purg'd; in thort, Each had a zarity would make you split,
they cur'd: And thook tas head at Murray, as a wit.
Whereat the gentleman began to stareTwas, “. Sit, your law" and "Sir, your elo- My friends! he cried, p-x take you for your cre, quance;
[bot's sense.' That from a Patriot of distinguish'd note, "Yours, Cowper's maapers ;" and Yours, Tal- Have bled and purg'd me to a simple Vote, Thus we dispose of all poetic merit;
Well, on the whole,plain profe must be myfite: Yours Milton's genius, and mine Homer's spirit. Wisdom, curse on it! will come soon or late. CalTibba'dsitkelpear, and he'll iwear the Nine, There is a time when Poets will grow dull: Dear Cibber! nerer match done Ode of thine.' I'll een leave verses to the boys at school : Lord! but fe ft-ut thro' Merlin's Cave to see To rules of Poetry no more confinid, No poets there but Stephen, you, and me
I'll learn to smooth and harmonize my mind; Walk with respect behind, while we at ease Teach ev'ry thought within its bounds to roll, Weave laurel Crowns
, ard take whät names we And keep the equal measure of the foul. *My dear Tibullus!" if that will not do, (please.
Soon as I enter at my country door, "Let me be Horace, and be Ovid
you: My mind resumes the thread it dropp'd before ; 1 2. I'm content; allow me Dryden's strains, Thoughts which at Hyde park-corner I forgot,
and you shall rise up Otway for your pains." Meet and rejoin me in the penfive Grot; Mech do I fuffer, much to keep in peace
There all alone, and compliments apart, This talous, walpih, wrong-head, rhyming race; I alk these fober questions of my heart And much muil Hatter, if the whim should bité If, when the more you drink, the more your To court applause, by printing what I write: crave, But , let the fit pass o'er, I'm wise enough
You tell the Doctor; when the more you have, To kop my ears to their confounded Itutt
The more you waht, why not with equal eate In vain bad Rhymers all mankind reject, [spect: Confess as well your Folly, as Diseale? They treat themselves with most profound re- The heart refolves this matter in a trice: Tas to fall purpose that you hold your tongue;
“ Men only feel the Smárt, but not the Vice.” "Expais id within, is happy all day long: When golden Angels cease to cure the Evil,
feverely with themselves proceed You give all royal Witchcraft to the Devil; The a uko write fuch Verse as we can read! When fervile Chaplains cry that birth and place Hare'er unwillingly it quits its place, at wat or force, or light, or weight, or care. Lock if that breast, molt dirty D-! be fair;
Say, can you find out one such lodger there? grace: Yet ftill
, not heeding what your heart can teach, en and they 1 degrade; and fometimes, in itsstead, you go to Church ts hear these hatt'rers prench:
Jadranright charity revive the dead; Indeed, could wealth bestow or wit or mcrit,
' the rubbith of some hundred years; The wifest man might blush, I must agree, Camandoldwords that long havellept, t’awake, If D*** lov'd fixpence more than he. Vects that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh fpake; If there be truth in Law, and Use can give ost the new be Englisi, ages hence, A Property, that's yours on which you live. (for We will father what's begot by Sense)
Delightful Abs-court, if its fields afford fix the full tide of eloquence along, Their fruits to you, confesies you its lord ; Sercely pure, and yet divinely strong, All Worldly's hens, nay partridge, fold to town,
Rich with the treasures of each foreign tongue :S His ven'fon too, a guinea makes your own :
But eafe in writing flows from art, not chance; Heathcote himself, and such large-acred men, "As those move easiest whohavelearn d todance." Lords of fat E'/ham, or of Lincoln-fen,
If such the plague and pains to write by rule, Buy ev'ry stick of wood that lends then heat:
Estates have wings, and hang in fortune's pow'r, With terrors round, can reason hold her throne
you call them Villa, Park, or Chase) Canst thou endure a foe, forgive a friend? Alas, my Bathurit! what will they avail? Has age
but melted the rough parts away, Join Cotswood hills to Saperton's fair dale; As winter fruits grow mild ere they decay? Let rising granaries and temples here, Or will you think, my friend, your business dor Their mingled farms and pyramids appear; When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out ore Link towns to towns with avenues of oak; Learn to live well, or fairly make your will Inclose whole towns in walls-'tis all a joke! You've play'd, and lov’d, andeat, and drank ve Inexorable Death shall level all,
Walk fóber off, before a sprightlier age And trees, and stones, and farms, and firmer fall. Comes titt'ring on, and thoves you from thering
Gold, Silver, Iv'ry, Vases, fculpeurd high, Leave such to trifle with more grace urdak, Paint, Marble, Gems, and robes of Persian dye, Whom foily pleases, and whose follies pleale, There are who have not-and, thank heaven! Who if they have not,think not worth their care. $21. Epilogues to the Satires. In twvo Dialogues Talk what you will of Taite, my friend, you 'll
Pore. Two of a face as soon as of a mind. [find Why, of two brothers, richiand restless one [íun; Ir. Nor twice a twelvemouth you appear Ploughs, burns, manures, and toils from sun to print;
The other flights, for women, sports, and wines, And when it comes, the Court see nothing in All Townthend's turnips, and all Grosvenor's You grow correct, that once witla rapture wii mines :
And are, besides, too moral for a Wit. Why one, like Bu— with pay and scorn content, Decay of parts, alas ! we all must feel Bows, and votes on, in Court and Parliament; Why now, this moment, don't I see you ftcal One, driven by strong Benevolence of soul, 'Tis all from Horace; Horace, long before ye Shall fly, like Oglethorp, from pole to pole; Said, “ Turies call d'him Whig, and Whigs Is known alone to that Directing Pow'r
· Tory;" Who forms the Genius in the natal hour; And taught his Romans, in much better metr That God of Nature, wlio, within us ftill, “ To laugh at tools wlio put their trust in Peter, Inclines our action, not contrains our will: But Horace, Sir, was delicate, was nice; Various of temper, as of face or frame, Bubo observes, he laih'd no fort of Vice: Each individual; his great End the fame. Horace would say, Sir Billy feru'd tbe Crown;
Yes, Sir, how small loever be my lieap, Blunt could do business, H-ggins knew the tour A part I will enjoy as well as keep.
In Sappho touch the Failings of the sex, My lieir may righ, and think it want of grace In rev'rend Bithops note tome small neglects; A man 10 poor would live without a place : And own the Spaniard did a waggisb ibing, But fure no ftatute in his favour says, Who cropp'dour ears, and sent them to the King How free or frugal I shall pass my days; His fly, polite, infinuating style I, who at some times spend, at others spare, Could please at Court, and make Augustus smile Divided between carelessness and care. An artful manager, that crept between 'Tis one thing madly to disperse my store; His friend and ínanie, and was a kind of screen. Anotlier, not to heed to treasure more; But, "faith, your very friends will soon be fore ; Glad, like a boy, to snatch the first good day, Patriots there are who wish you'd jeit no more And pleas'd if fordid want be far away. And where's the Glory? 'twill be only thought
What is 't to me (a pafenger, God wot) The great man never offer'd you a groat. Whether my vesel be first-rate or not? Go fee Sir RobertThe ship itielf may make a better figure,
P. See Sir Robert!-humBut I that fail an neither less nor bigger; And never laugh for all my life to come? I neither Itrut with ev'ry fav’ring breath, Seen him I have, but in his happier hour Nor strive with all the tempest in my teeth : Of Social Pleasure, ill exchang'd for Pow'r, In pow'r, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, plac'd Seen him, uncumber'd with a venal tribe, Belind the foremost, and before the last. Smile without art, and win without a bribe.
“But why all this of avarice? I have none." Would be oblige me? let me only find I wish you joy, Sir, of a tyrant gone; He does not think me what he thinks mankind, Iut does no other lord it at this hour, Come, come—at all I laugh he laughs, no doubt; As wild and mad-the avarice of pow'r? The only diff'rence is– I dare laugh out. L'oes neither rage infiame, nor fear appall ? F. Why yes, with Scripture still you may be free; Not the black fcar of death that faddens all? A horse-laugh, if you please, at Honefly,
. 4 de or JEKYL, or some odd Old W'hig, But, past the sense of human miseries, Wherectang'd his principle, or wig ; All tears are wip'd for ever from all eyes;. Assa fool in ev'ry age,
No cheek is known to blush, no heart to throb, Waz' Lord Chamberlains allow the stage : Save when they lose a question, or a job. Teenetlag hurts; they keep their fathion still, P. Good Heaven forbid that I should blast rartheir itrange old virtue, as they will.
their glory, nk 1011, “ Who's the man, fo near Who know how like Whig Ministers to Tory,
Tace, that writes in verse, and has his ear?" And when three Sov'reigns died, could scarce be' 32160, Lyttleton; and I'll engage
vext, Trenta ruth thall ne'er be in a rage : Confid'ring what a gracious Prince was next. Lurer du perles vile, his whisper base,
Have I, in filent wonder, feen such things Parafind him in Lord Fanny's case. As pride in Siaves, and avarice in Kings ;
sy, but not honest Fleury ; And at a Peer or Peeress shall I fret,
put some ftatemen in a fury. Who íturves a fiiter, or forswears a debt? seniora at any but at fools or foes ; l'irtue, I grant you, is an empty boast; Tansin anger, and you mend not those
. But thall the dignity of Vice, be lok ? Purtriends; and, if your friends are Ye Gods! Mall Cibber's son, without rebuke,
Swear like a Lord, or Rich outwhore a Duke ? en de better, you may laugh the more. A fav’rite's porter with his master vie, free and folly to confine the jest,
Be brib'd as often, and as often lie? ***world, God knows, guinit the rest ; Sall Ward draw contracts with a statesman's
inser of more impartial men Or Japhet pocket, like his Grace, a will? [tkill? 201 virtue balance all again
Is it for Bond or Peter (paltry things !) is 9.03 spread wide tlie ridicule, To pay their debts, or keep their faith, like kings?
1 big comfort knave and fool. If Blount diípatch'd himself, he play'd the man, o sir, forgive the prejudice of youth: And so may'it thou, illustrious Patleran! 2. #retion, fatire, warmth, and truth! But thall a Printer, weny of his life,
goleis characters that no one hit; Learn from their books to hang himself and wife? Honey's oratory, Olborne's wit! This, this, my friend, I cannot, muit not bear; sy dropping from Favonio's tongue,
Vice thus abus d demands a nation's care : **?s of Bubo, and the flow of Y-ng! This cails the church to deprecate our sin, mais dew of pulpit eloquence,
And hurls the thunder of the laws on gin. well-whipp'd cream of courtly sense, Let modeft Foster, if he will, excel *** H-vy's, F-'s next, and then Ten Metropolitans in preaching well ; 124:s, and then H-vy's once again. A limple Quaker, or a Quaker's wife, *** caly, Ciceronian tyle,
Ou: do Landaff' in doctrine-yea in life ; Na to English all the while,
Let humble Allen, with an awkward Thame, pride of Middleton and Bland, Do good by Itealth, and blush to find it fame. any read, and girls may underitand! F'irtue may choose the high or low degree, Talling, without the least offence, 'Tis just alike to virtue, and to me;
fung should be the Nation's Sense ; Dwell in a Monk, or light upon a King, e melancholy Muse to mourn,
She's Itill the fame belov'd, contented thing Ha tetad verse on Carolina's urn,
Vice is undone if the forgets her birth, Li ber parlage to the Realms of Ret, And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth : was perforin d, and all hier children blert ! But 'tis the Fall degrades her to a whore: zis no more I feel it die
Let Greatness own her, and she's mean no more, Jurtleer more innocentilian 1
Her birth, her beauty, crowds and courts confess, Wha-God's name, ev'ry fool and knave Chaite matrons praise her, and grave bishops bless; ed thro' life, and Aatter'd in his grave. In golden chains the willing world the draws, **; for if Satire knows its time and place, And hers the gospel is, and
bers the laws ; may lalh the greate-in disgrace : Mounts the tribunal, lifts ber scarlet head, nort will by turns forsake them all; And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead. ou know when ? exactly when they fall. Lo! at the wheels of her triumphal car, al atire in all changes spare
Old England's Genius, rough with many a scar, 2:22 S-k, and grave D-re.
Draggd in the dust! his arms hang idly round, and soft as faints remov'd to heaven, His fag inverted trails along the ground ! :** tray fome gentle ministerial wing fes uifolv'd, and ev'ry sin forgiven,
Our youth, all livery'd o'er with foreign gold,
Before her dance; behind her, crawl the old! a
[port, See thronging millions to the Pagod run, here, where no pallion, pride, or Thame tranf. And offer country, parent, wife, or fon! wad with the sweet Nepenthe of a Court; Hear her black trumpet thro' the land proclaim,
. That not to be corrupted is the shame.
In soldier, churchman, patriot, man in pow'r, hce break their reft,or stir them from their place: 'Tis av'rice all, ambition is no more !
See all our nobles begging to be Naves ! Then better sure it Charity liecomes
F. Stop! Stop!
F. Yes, itrike that Wild, I'll justily the b Yet may this verse (if such a verse remain) P. Strike? why the man was hang'd ten Shew there was one who held it in disdain.
Who now that obsolete example fears? DIALOGUE II.
Even Pctor trembles only for his ears.
F. What always Peter ? Peter thinks your F. TIS all a libel-Paxton (Sír) will fay: 2 You make men desp’rate, if they once are !
P. Not yet, my friend ! to-morrow, 'faith, it Else might he take to virtue fome years hens And for that very cause I print to-day. (may; P. As Smk, if he lives, will love the Pru How should I fret to mangle ev'ry line, F. Strange spleen to S-k! In rev'rence to the sins of Thirty-nine !
P. Do I wrong the man Vice with such giant ftrides coines on amain, God knows, I praile a Courtier where I ca Invention strives to be before in vain ; When I confeis, there is who feels for taip Feign what I will, and paint it e'er lo strong, And melts to goodnels, need I Scarb'rov na Some riting genius fins up to my song: Pleas'd let me own, in Efber's peaceful gr
F. Yet none but you by name the guilty lash; (Where Kent and nature vie for Pelham', io Even Guthry saves halt Newgate by a daih. The scene, the maiter, op'ning to my view, Spare then the person, and expofe the vice: I sit and dream I see my Craggs anew!
P. How, Sir! not damn the sharper, but the Even in a Bishop I can spy desert;
I fhun his zenith, court his mild decline ;
F. The pois'ning dame, you mean.-P. I don't. Carleton's calm tenie and Stanbepe's nobie A. F. You do.
Compar'd, and knew their gen'rous end thet P. See, now I keep the secret, and not you! How pleasing Waterbury's lofter hour! Thebribing statesman -F. Hold, too highyou go. How thind the foul, unconquer'd in the To, P. The brib'd elector.-F. There you stoop How can I Fultoney, Cheflerfield forgit, too low.
While Roman spirit charms, and Attic wit P. I fain would please you, if I knew with Argyle, the State's whole thunder born to w: what ;
And thake alike the senate and the field: Tell me which knave is lawful game,which not? Or Wyndham, juit to freedom and the throne Must great offenders, once escap'd the Crown, The matter of our pallions, and his own: Like royal harte, be never more run down? Names which I long have lov'd, nor lov'd in va Admit your law to spare the knight requires, Rank'd with their friends, noi number'd As bealts of nature may we hunt the 'jquires ? their train; Suppose I censure you know what I mean, And if yet higher the proud lift should end, To save a Bishop, may I name a Dean? S!ill let me fiy, No follower, but a friend.
F. A Dean, Sir ? no; his fortune is not made; Yet think not,friendship onlyprompts my : You hurt a man that's rising in the trade. I follow Viride; where the things, I prane,
P. If not the trade man who set up to-day, Point ine to Priest or Elder, Wbig or Tory, Much less the 'prentice who to-morrow may. Or round a Quaker's beaver cast a glory. Down,down proud fatire! tho'a realm he spoil'd, I never (to my sorrow I declare) Arraign no mightier thief than wretched Wild; Din'd with the Man of Rois, or my Lord V Or, if a court or country's made a job, Some in their choice of friends (nay, look Go drench a pickpocket, and join the mob,
grave) But, Sir, I beg you (for the love of vice !) Have ftill a secret bias to a knave: 'The matter's weighty, pray contider twice : To find an honest man, I beat about, Kave you less pity for the needy cheat, And love him, court him, praise him, in or The poor and friendless villain, than the great ? F. Then wliy fo few commended? Alas! the small discredit of a bribe
P. Not fo fierce Scarce hurts the Lawyer, but undoes the Scribe. Find you the virtue, and I'll find the verse.
Batandem prails-the talk can ne'er be done: P. 'Faith, it imports not much from whom Lai pabei alks it for her booby fon :
it came; Exh nicht als it for tbe best of men ;
Whoever borrow'd could not be to blame,
From tail to month they feed and they carouse;
To Ceto, Friul pay'd one honett line ; Quite turns my stomach-
P. Sudoes fatt'ry mine:
Perfume to you, to me is excrement.
P. It merely to come in, Sir, they go out, Writ not, and Chartres scarce could write or read, The way they take is strangely round about. In all the Courts of Pindus guiltless quite;
They too may be corrupted, you 'll allow. But pens can forge, my friend, that cannot
P. I only call those knaves who are so now. write; THE Is that too little ? Come then, I'll comply
And muit no egg in Japhet's face be thrown, Serir cé dreall! aid me while I lie.
Becanse the deed he forg'd was not my own? Coblen 's a coward, Poiwart is a Nave; Muit never Patriot then declaim at gin, 212 And Lmtieton a dark, defigning knave; Unless, good man! he has been faidly in ?
& Jada has ever been a wealthy fool- No zealuus pastor blame a failing spouse,
et let it add, Sir Robert's mighty dull; Without a staring reason on his brows? Ha never made a friend in private life, And each blasphemer quite escape the rod, waa, belides,
a tyrant to his wife. Because the insult's not on man, but God? pray, when others praise liim, do I Ask you what provocation I have had ? GlVerres
, Wolsey, any odious name? [blame? The strong antipathy of good to bad. Why wil they then, if but a wreath of mine, Wlien truth or virtue an affront endures, Balatcomplish'd St. John! deck thy shrine? Th'affront is mine, my friend, and Mould be Wastal each spur-gallid hackney of the day, Mine, as a foe profest to false pretence, (yours.
Lea Paten gives him double pots and pay; Who think a Coxcomb's honour like his lenie; Geci mw -penfion'd fycophant, pretend Mine, as a friend to ev'ry worthy mind; To break iny windows it I treat a friend; And mine, as man, who feel for all mankind. Then wiely plead, to me they meant no hurt; F. You ’re strangely proud. my guest at whom they threw the
P. So proud, I am no Nave; ) bure
, if I fpare the Minister, no rules (dirt ? So impudent, I own myself no knave; Of honour bind me not to maul his tools; So odd, my country's ruin makes me grave.
S Stre, if tbey cannot cut, it may be said Yes, I am proud, I must be proud, to see his aws are toothiess, and his hatchets lead. Men not afraid of God afraid of me? It asger'd Turenne, once upon a day,
Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, To be a footman kick d that took his pay : Yet touch'd and Tham'd by ridicule alone. But when he heard th' affront the fellow gave, O sacred weapon! left for truth's defence; Krw one a man of honour, one a knave; Sole dread of folly, vice, and in solence!
gen'ral tarn'd it to a jest, (rest: Tu all but Heaven-directed hands denied, And begg’d he'd take the pains to kick the TheMufe may give thee, but the gods mult guide; Wich not at present liaving time to do—(you ? Rev'rent I touch thee!' but with honeft zeni , 7. Hold, lr, for God's fake, where's thatfront to To rouse the watchmen of the public weal, Against your wortbip when had S--k writ? To virtue's work provoke the tardy hall, 10 Pert pour'd forth the torrent of his wit? And goad the Prelate alumb’ring in his tall. Or grant the Bard whose diftich all commend Ye tinsel insects! whom a court maintains, fla pow'r a fervant, out of pow'r a friend) That counts your beauties only by your ft21:5, To W-le guilty of some venial sin; Spin all your cobwebs o'er the eye of day! What's that to you, who ne'er was out nor in? The Muse's wing shall brush you all away:
ThePreit whole flattery bedropp'd the Crown, All his Grace preaches, all his Lordship fings, How hurt he you? he only staind the gown.
All that makes saints of queens,and gods of kings, And how did, pray, the florid youth offend, All, all but truth, drops dead-born from the prots, Whole Speech you took, and gave it to a friend? Like the last Gazette, or the last address.