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Who sent the thief that stole the cash, away, Who there his Muse, or self, or soul attends,
And punish'd him that put it in his way. In crowds, and courts, law, bus'ness, feasts, and

Consider then, and judge me in this light; My countel fonds to execute a deed : [friends ?
I told you when I went, I could not write; A Poet begs ine I will hear him read:
You said the same ; and are you discontent In Palacc-yard at nine you'll find me there
With laws to which you gave your own allent? At ten for certain, Sir, in Bloomsbury-iquare
Nay worse, to ask for verle at such a time ! Before the Lords, at twelve, my caus comes 012-
D'ye think me good for nothing but to rhyme ? | There's a Rehearsal, Sir, exact at oni-

Ín Anna's wars, a soldier, psor and old, Oh, but a wit can study in the streets, Had dearly earn’d a little puric of gold :

( And raise his mind above the mob he meets.' Tir'd with a tedious march, one luckless night, Not quite so well, however, as one ought; He slept, poor dog! and lost it to a doit. A hackney-coach may chance to ipo! a thought; This put the man in such a desp'rate mind, And then a nodding beam, or pis of lead, Between revenge, and grief, and hunger join’d, God knows, may hurt the very ableit head. Against the foc, himielf, and all mankind, Have you not feen, at Guildhall's narrow pass, He leap'd the trenches, fcal'd the casile-wall, Two aldermen dispute it with an ass ? Tore down a standard, took the fort and all. And peers give way, cxalted as they are, • Prodigious well!' his great cominander cry'd; Ev'n to their own S-ry--nce in a car? Gave him much praise, and some reward befide. Go, lofty Poct! and in such a crowd, Next plcas'd his Excellence a town to batter : Sing thy fonorous verse – but not aloud. (Its name I know not, and 'tis no great matter) Alas! to grottos and to groves we run; • Go on, my friend ( he cry'd); see yonder walls! To case and filence ev'ry Mule's fon : • Advance and conquer ! go where glory calls! Blackmore himself, for any giand effort, • More honors, more rewards, attend the brave.' Would drink and doze at Tooting orEarl's Court. Don't you remember what reply he gave? How thall I riyme in this eternal roar ? [before? • D’ye think inc, noble Gen'ral, such a lot? How match the bards whom none c'er match'd • Let him take cafties who has ne'cr a groat.' The inan who, ftretch'd in Ifis' calm retreat, Bred up at home, full early I begun

To books and tłudy gives sev'n years complete, To read in Greek the wrath of Peleus' son. See ! strouv'd with Icarned dust, his nightcap on, Besides, my father taught me from a lad, He walks, an object now bencath the fun! The better art to know, the good from bad: The boys flock round him, and the people (And little fure imported to remove,

ftare : To hunt for truth in Maudlin's learned grove.) So ftiff, fo mute! some statue you would swear, But knottier points we knew not half so well, Stept froin its pedestal to take the air ! Depriv'd us foon of our paternal cell ;

And here, while town, and court, and city roars And certain laws, by suff'rers thought unjust, With inobs, and duns, and soldiers, at their doors, Deny'd all posts of pofit or of trust:

Shall I, in London act this idle part) Hopes after hopes of pious Papifts fail'd, Composing songs, for fools to get by heart ! While inighty William's thund'ring arm pre The Temple latc two brother Serjcants saw, For Right Hereditary tax’d and find; [vailid. Who deem'd each other Oracles of Law; He fuck to poverty with peace of mind; With equal talents, these congeniai fouls, And me the Mules help to undergo it; One lull'd th’Exchcquer, and one stunn'd the Convict a Papist he, and I a Poct.

Each had a gravity would make you split, (Rolls; But (thanks to Homer) since I live and thrive, And took his head at Murray, as a wit. Indebred to no prince or peer alive,

'Twas, “ Sir, your law” — and Sir, your eloSure I should want the care of ten Monrocs,


[fense.' If I would scribble rather than repose.

“ Yours, Cowper's manner,” and “yours, Talbot's Years following years, steal fomething ev'ry Thus we dilpote of all poetic merit, At last they steal us from ourselves away; [day: Yours Milton's genius, and mine Homer's spirit. In one our frolics, one amusement end,

CallTibbald Shakcipcar,and he'll wearthe Nine, . In one a mistress drops, in one a friend :

Dear Cibber, never match'i one Ode of thine I This subtle thief of life, this paltry Time,

Lord! how we ftrue thro' Merlin's Cave, to lee What will it leave me, if it snatch my rhyme ? No Poets there, but Stephen, you, and mc! If ev'ry wheel of that unweary'd mill,

Walk with refpc&t behind, while we at eac That turn'd ten thousand verfés, now stand still? Weave laurel Crowns, and take what names we

But after all, what would you have ine do? My dear Tibullus !' iftbatuill not do, (please. When out of tiventy I can please rot two; • Let me be Horace, and be Ovid rou: When this Heroics only deigns to praise, • Or, I'm content, allow me Dryden's straias; Sharp Satire that, and that Pindatic lays ? • And you ihall rise up Oluay for your pains. One likes the pheasant's wing, and one the leg; Much do I suffer, much, to keep in peace The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg. This jealous, walp:lhi, wrong-licad, rhyming race; Hard talk ! to hit the palate of such guests, And much must Harter, if the whim ihould bite, When Oldfield loves what Dartineuf detests. To court applause, by printing what I write :

But grant I may relapse, for want of grace, But let the fit pals o'er, I'm wise cnough Again to rhyme, can London be the place? To stop my ears to their confounded ftud.

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In vain, bad rhymers all mankind reject; | The more you want, why not with equal cafe They treat themselves with most profound reip.Ct; Confefs as well your folly as disease ? 'Tis to small purpose that you hold your tongue; The heart resolves this matter in a trice; Each prais'd ivithin is happy all day long: “ Meu only feel the finart, but not the vice.” But how severely with themselves procced When golden angels cease to cure the Evil, The men who write such versc as we can read! You give all royal witchcraft to the Devil; Their own friet judges, not a word they fpare When servile chaplains cry, that birth and place That wants or force, or light, or weight, or care. Endue a peer with honour, truth, and grace, Howe'er unwillingly it quits its place,

Look in that brcait (most dirty D-I be fair) Nay tho' at court (perhaps) it may find grace: Say, can you find oui onc such lodger there? Such they'll degrade; and fometimes, in its ttcad, Yet still, not heeding what your heart can teach, In downrighe charity revive the dead;

You go to church to hear thcsc flatt'rers preach, Mark where a bold expressive phrase appears, Indeed, could wealth bestow or wit or merit, Bright thro’the rubbish of some hundred years ; A grain of courage, or a spark of spirit, Command old words that long have lept, to i The wifeft man might bluih, I must agree, wake;

[tpakc; If D*** lov'd lixpence more than he. Words that wife Bacon or brave Rurleigh If there be troth in law, and use can give Or bid thc new be English, ages hence, A property, that's your's on which you live. (For Usc will father what's begot by Sense) Deliglitful Abs-court, if its siclds afford Pour the full tids of cloquence along,

Their fruits to you, confesses rou its lord, Screnely pure, and yet divincly strong, All Worldly's liens, nay partridge, sold to town, Rich with the trcalures of each forcign tongue; His ven’lon too, a guinca makes your own : Prune the luxuriant, thc uncouth retine, He bought at thousands what, with better wit, But thew no mercy to an empty line :

"You purchase as you want, and bit by bit; Then polith all, with so much life and case, Now, or long since, what diff'rence will be found ? You think 'ris Nature, and a knack to please! You pay a penny, and he paid a pound. “ But cafe in writing How's from art, not chance; Heathcote himself, and such large-acr'd men, “ As those move canchi who have learu'd to Lords of fat E'lham, or of Lincoln-fen, dance."

Buy ev'ry stick of wood that lends them heat ; If such the plague and pains to write by rule, Buy ev'ry pullet they afford to cat. Bet:er (say 1) be pleas’d, and play the fool; Yet these are wights, who fondly call their own Call, if you will, bad rhyming a disease ; Half that the Devil o'erlooks from Lincoln town. It gives men happiness, or leaves them casc. The laws of God, as well as of the land,

There liv'd in primo Georgii (they record) Abhor a perpetuity Thould stand: 4 worthy member, no finali fool, a Lord; Eltates have wings, and hang in fortune's pow'r, Who, tho' the House was up, delighted fat, Loose on the point of ev'ry wav'ring hour; Heard, nored, anficrel, as in full debate ! Ready by force, or of your own accord, In all but this, a man of fober life,

By fale, at Icast by death, to change their lord. Fond of his friend, and civil to his wifc; Man? and for ever? wretch! what would'ft Not quite a madınan, tho' a pasty fell;

thou have? And much too wilc in Walk into a well.

Heir urges hcir, like wave impelling wave. Ilim, the damnd churtors and his friends immur'd, All vast pollutions (just thc fame the case They ble i, they cuppid, they purg'd; in ihort, Whether you call them Villa, Park, or Chace) ther cur'd:

Alas, my Bathurst! what will they avail? Whercat the gentleman began to stare- (care! | Join Corlivood hills to Saperton's fair dale; My friends! he cry'd, 1 x take you for your Let riting granaries and temples here, Thae from a patriot of diftinguith'd notc, There mingled farms and pyramids appear; Have bled and purg'd me to a simple vote. Link towns to towns with avenues of oak,

Well,on the ivholc, plain proie must be my fate: | Enclole whold downs in walls, 'tis all a joke! Wildom, curíi on it, will come foon or late. Inexorabie Death shall level all, There is a time when pocts will grow dull: And crecs, and stones, and farins, and farmer fall. I'll e'en leave verses to the boys at school : Gold, silver, iv'ry, vafes fculptur'd high, To rules of poctry no more confia'l,

Paint, marble, gems, and robes of Persian dye, I'll learn to linooth and harmonize my mind; There are who have not--and thank Heav'n there Teach ev'ry thoughe within its bounds to roll,


(care. And keep the cqual measure of the foul. Who, if they have not, think not worth their Soon as I enter at my country door,

Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll v ind refumes the thread it dropt before; Two of a face as foon as of a mind. [find Thou hts which at Hydc-park Corner 1 forgot, Why, of tun brothers, rich and restless, one Vect, and rejoin me in the pensive grot; Ploughs, burns, manures, and coils from sun to There, all alone, and compliments apart,

iun; I ask these tober questions of my heart: (crare, The other tights, for women, sports, and wines,

If, when the more you drink, the more you An Townshend's turnips, and all Grofvenor's Vou tell the Doctor? When the more you have, mines;


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 steal ?
One, driv'n by strong benevolence of soul, 'Tis all from Horace ; Horace, long before

ye, Shall fly, like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole: Said, “ Tories call'd him Whig, and Whigs a Is known alone to that Directing Pow'r

Tory:” Who forms the genius in the natal hour; And taught his Romans, in much better metre, That God of Nature, who, within us still * To laugh at fools who put their trust in Peter.' Inclines our action, not constrains our will; But Horace, Sir, was delicate, was nice; Various of teinper, as of face or frame,

Bubo obferves, he lath'd no fort of Vice. Each individual: His great end the fame. Horace would lay, Sir Billy feru'd the Crown,

Yes, Sir, how finall focver be my heap, Blunt could do bus'nefs, H-ggins knew the towni; A part I will enjoy as well as keep.

In Sappho touch the failings of the fix, My heir may ligh, and think it want of grace

In rev'rend Bishops note tome small negleels, A man fo poor would live without a place: And own the Spaniard did a waggish thing, But sure no Itatute in his favour says,

Who cropt our ears, and sent them to the King. How free or frugal I fhall pass my days;

His ily, polite, insinuating style, ], who at sometimes 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 shame, and was a kind of formen. Another, not to heed to treature more;

But 'faith, your very friends will foon be fore; Glad, like a boy, to fiatch the first good day, Patriots there are who wish you'd jest no moreAnd pleas’d, if fordid want be far away.

And where's the glory? 'Twill be only thouglas That is’t to me (a passenger God wot)

The great man never offur'd you a groat. Whether my veffèl be first rate or not?

Go see Sir RobertThe ship itself may make a better figure ;

P. Sce Sir Robertomum But I thiat sail ain neither less nor bigger; And never laugh--for all my life to come? 1 neither strut with ev'ry fav'ring breath, Seen him I have, but in his liappier hour Nor strive with all the tempest in my teeth ; Of focial pleature, ill exchang'd for pow'r; In pow's, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, plac’d Seen hin, uncumber'd with a venal tribe, Ichind the foremost, and before the lait. Sinile without art, and win without a bribe.

“ But why all this of av’rice, I have none.” Would he oblige ine? Let me only find, I with you joy, Sır, of a tyrant gone;

He does not think me what he thinks mankind. But does no other lord it at this hour,

Come, come, at I laugh he laughs, no doubt;
As wild and mad? the avarice of pow'r ? The only diff'rence is --- I dare laugh out.
Does neither rage inflamc, nor fear appal ? F. Why yes, with Scripture ftill you may be free;
Not the black fear of death that saddens all ? A horse-laugh, if you picasc, 24 Horeslv;
With terrors round, can Rcafon hold her throne, A joke on JEKYL, or some old Old Whig,
Despite the known, not tremble at th’unknown? Who never chang'd his principle or wig;
Survey both worlds, intrepid and entire, A patriot is a fool in ev'ry age,
In spite of witches, devils, dreams, and fire? Whom all Lord Chamberlains allow the stage ;
Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind, These nothing hurts; they keep their fathiun
And count cach birth-day with a grateful mind? stili,
Has life no fournefs, drawn so near its end? And wear their strange old virtue as they will.
Can'st thou endure a foe, forgive a friend?

If a

ask you,“ Who's the man fo near
but melted the rough parts away,

· His prince, that writes in verse, and has his car?' As winter fruits grow mild cre they decay? Why answer, Lyttleton, and I'll engage Or will you think, my friend, your bus’nels done, The' worthy youth fhall ne'er be in a rage :: When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one? But were his verses vile, his whilper bare,

Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You'd quickly find him in Lord Fanny's case. You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank Sejanus, Wolsey, hurt not honest Fleury; your fill:

But well may put some stateíinen in a fury. Walk Taber off; before a sprightlier age

Laugh then at any, but at fools or foes; Comes tátt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage: These you but anger, and vou mend not those. Leave such a trifle with more grace and case, Laugh at your friends, and, if your friends are fure, Whom folly pleases, and whole follies please. So much the better, you may laugh the more.

To vice and folly to confine the jest, $18. Epilogues to the Satires. In Two Dialogues. Did not the facer of more impartial men

Sets half the world, God knows, against the reft,

At sense and virtue balance ail again.

Judicious wits spread wide the ridicule, F. NOT twice a twelvemonth you appear in And charitably comfort kuave and fool. print;

P. Dear Sir, forgive the prejudice of youth: And when it comes, the court see nothing in't. Adicu distin&tion, latire, warnth, and truth ! You grow correct, that once with rapture writ,

Come harmless charaéters that no one hit; And are besides too moral for a vit.

Come, Henly's oratory, Olborn's wit!

The honey dropping from Favonio's tongue, This calls the church to deprecate our sin,
The How'rs of Bubo, and the flow of Y-3! And hurls the thunder of the laws on gin.
The gracious dew of pulpit eloquence,

Let modest Foster, if he wiil, excel
And all the well-whipt cream of courtly sense ; Ten metropolitans in preaching well;
The first was H-vy's, F's next, and then A simple quaker, or a quaker's wife,
The S-te's, and then H-vy's once again. Outdo Landaffe in doctrine-yea in life:
() come, that casy, Ciceronian style,

Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame, So Latin, yet to English all the while,

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame. As, tho' the pride of Middleton and Bland, Virtue may chuse the high or low degree; All boys may read, and girls may understand! 'Tis juft alike to virtue, and to me; Then might I ling, without the Icatt offence; Dwell in a monk, or light upon a king, And all I sung should be the nation's fente! She's still the same belov'd contented thing. Or teach the melancholy Mulc to inourn, Vice is undone if the forgets her birth, Hang thc tad vcrfe on Carolina's urn,

And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth: And hail her patia e to the realms of reít, But 'tis the Fall degrades her to a whore; All parts perform’l, and all her children blest! Let Greatness own her, and the's mean no more: Su Satire is no more I feel it die

Her birth, her beauty, crowds and courts confess, No Gazetteer more innocent than I

Chaste matrons praile her, and grave bishops bleis;
And let, a Goul's name, ev'ry fool and knale In golden chains the willing world the draws,
B: grac'd taro' life, and Matter'd in his grave. And hers the golpel is, and hers the laws;

F. W'hy ío: If Satire kilows its time and place, Mounts thc tribunal, lifts her scarlet head,
You still mav lath the greatest—in disgrace : And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead.
För merit will hy turns fortake them all ; Lo! at the wheels of her triumphal car,
Would you kilov when? Exactly when they fall. Old England's genius, rough with many a scar,
But lct all fauire in all changes fpare

Dragyd in the dust! his arms hang idly round, Tinmortal S-k, and grave D-rc.

His Hay, inverted, trails along the ground! Silent and loft as faints remov'd to heav'n, Our youth, all liv'ry'd o’er with foreign gold, All eves diffolv'd, and ev'ry fın forgiv'ni, Before her dance: behind her crawl the old i Thesc may loine gentle ministerial wing Sce thronging millions to the Pagod run, Receive, and place for ever near a king! And offer country, parent, wife, or fon : There, where no pallion, pride, or Thame, trans- Hear her black trumpet thro' the land proclaim, Lull'd with the fiveet Nepenthc of a court; [port, That Not to be corrupted is the fame! Thcre, where no father's, brother's, friend's In foldier, churchman, patriot, man in pow'T, ditgrace

'Tis av'rice all, ambition is no more! Once break their reft, or stir them from their placc: See, all our nobles begging to be flaves! Kui past the tense of human miferics,

Sce, all our fools aspiring to be knares ! All tears are wip'd for ever froin all eyes; The wit of cheats, the courage of a whore, No check is known to blush, no heart to throb, | Arc what ten thousand envy and adore: Sasc when they lote a question, or a job. All, all Icok up, with reverential awe, P. Good Heav'n forbid, that I should blast At times that 'scape, or triumph o'er the lav: thcir glory,

While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decrsIlho know how like Whig Ministers to Tory, • Nothing is facred now but villany !! And when three lov’reigns dy'd, could scarce be Yet may this verse (if fuch a verse remain) vext,

Show there was one who held it in disdain.
Consid'ring what a gracious Prince was next.
Have I, in filent wonder, feen such things

As pride in flaves, and avarice in kings,
And at a peer, or peereis, thall I fret,

F. 'Tis all a libel-Paxton (Sir) will far. Who starves a fifier, or forfwears a debt?.

P. Not yet, my friend! to-morrow 'faith i Virtue, I grant you, is an empty boast; And for that very caute, I print to-day. (may; But shall the dignity of Vice be loft?

How thould I fret to mangle ev'ry line, Ye Gods! shall Cibber's son, without rebuke, In rev'rence to the fins of Thirty-Nine! Swear like a lord, or Rich outw hore a duke: Vice with rich giant strides comes on amaiti ; A fav’rite's porter with his master vic,

Invention tives to be before in vain ; Be brib'd as often, and as often lic?

Foigra what I will, and paint it e'er to strong, Shall Ward draw contracts with a faresman's Some riting genius fins up to my fooz. Or japhet pocket, like his Grace, a will? (ikill : F. Yet nonc but you by name the guilty lah; Is it för Bond, or Peter (paltry things) [kings ? ' Ev’n Guthry faves half Newgate by a dah. To pay their debts, or keep their faith, like Spare then the person, and expose the yice. If Blount dispatch'd himself, he play'd the man; P. How, Sir! not damn the fharper, but the And so may'lt thou, illustrious Pafferan!

dice? But shall a printer, wcars of his life,

Come on then, Satire ! gen'ral, unconfinid, Learn from their books to hang himself and wife! Spread thy broad wing, and fouse on all the kind. This, this, my friend, I cannot, muli not bear; Yo statetmen, priests, of one religion all! Vice thus abus'd demands a nation's care; Ye tradesmen, vile, in army, court, or hall!

Ye rev'rend atheists. F. Scandal ! name them, I hun his zenith, court his mild decline;

Thus Somers once, and Halifax were mine.
P. Why that's the thing you bid me not to do. Oft, in the clear, still mirrour of retrcat,
Who starv'd a lifter, who forsivore a debt, I ftudy'd Shrewsbury, the wife and great :
I never nam’d; the town's enquiring yet. Carleton's calm fenfi, and Stanhope's noble flame,
The pois’ning dame.-F. You mean-P. I don't. Compar'd, and knew their gen’rous and the famy:
F. You do.

How plcaling Atterbury's lofter hour!
P. See, now I keep the secret, and not you! How thin’d the soul, unconqucr'd in the Tow'ri
The bribing latesman-F. Hold, too high yougó. How can I Pultney, Chesterfield forget,
P. The brid'd clector-F. There you stoop While Roman fpirit charms, and Artic wit:
too low.

[what; Argyle, the State's whole thunder born to wield,
P. I fain would please you, if I knew with And thake alike the senate and the field :
Tdl me, which knave is lawful game, which not? Or Wyndhain, just to frecdom and the throne,
Mutt great offenders, once escap'd the crown, The maiter of our paflions, and his own.
Like royal harts be never more run down? Names, which I long have lov’d, nor lov'd in vain,
Admit pour law to spare the knight requires, Rank'd with their friends, not nuinber'd with
As beasts of nature may we hunt the 'quires ?

their train;
Suppose I cenfure-you know what I mean-

And if

yet higher the proud lift should end, To save a bishop, may I name a dean?

Still let me fay, No follower, but a friend.
F. A dcan, fir ? No; his fortune is not made; Yet think not friendship only prompts my lays;
You hurt a man that's rising in the trade. I follow Virtue; where the thincs, I praile;

P. If not the tradesinan who set up to-day, Point the to Priest or Elder, Whig or Tory,
Much less the 'prentice who to-morrow may. Or round a Quaker's beaver caf a glory.
Down, down, proud fatire! tho’a realm be spoil'd, I never (to my forrow I dcclare)
Arraign no inightier thicf than wretched Wild; Din'd with the Man of Ross, or my Lord May'r.
Or, if a court or country's inadc a job,

Soine, in their choice of friends (nay look not
Go drench a pick poket, and join the mob. Have still a secret bias to a knave: [grave)

But, Sir, I beg you (for the love of vice) To find an honest man I beat about,
The matter's weighty, pray consider twice; And love him, court him, praise him, in or out.
Have you less pity for the needy chcat,

F. Then why fo few commended :-
The poor and tricndlers villain, than the great ?

P. Not so ficrce;
Alas! the small discredit of a bribe

Find you the virtue, and I'll find the verfc.
Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the fcribe. But random praise--the task can ne'er be done :
Then better, fure, ir charity beconies

Each mother asks it for her booby son.
To tax directors, who (thank God) have plums; Each widow asks it for the best of men;
Srill better ministers; or, if the thing

For him she weeps, for him the weds agen.
May pinch ev'n there—why lay it on a king. Praise cannot stoop, like fatire, to the ground :
F. Stop! Stop!

The number may be hang’d, but not be crown'd.
P. Must satire, then, nor rise nor fall? Enough for half the greatest of theic days,
Speak out, and bid me blame no rogucs at all. To 'scape iny cenfure, not expe&t my praise.

F. Yes, strike that Wild, I'll justify the blow. Are they not rich? what more can they pretend !
P. Strike? Why the man was hang'd ten Dare they to hope a poet for their friend?
years ago;

What Richlieu wanted, Louis scarce could gain;
Who now that obsolete example fears ; And what young Ammon with'd, but with’d in
Ev’n Peter trembles only for his ears.

F. What always Peter Peter thinks you mad; No pow'r the Muse's friendship can command;
You make men delp'rate, if they once are bad: No pow'r, when Virtue claims it, can withstand:
Elic might he take to virtue tome years hence- To Cato, Virgil pay'd one honcft line;

P. As S-k, if he lives, will love the Prince. O let my country's friends illumine mine!
F. Strange spleen to S-k!

-What are you thinking? F. Faith, the
P. Do I wrong the man?

thought's no fin,
God knows, I praite a courtier where I can. I think your friends are out, and would be in.
When I confets, there is who feels for fame, P. If mercly to come in, Sir, they go out,
And melts to goodness, need I Scarb'ro' name? The way they take is strangely round about.
Pleas'd let me oun in Ether's peaceful grove F. They too may be corrupted, you'll allow
(Where Kent and Nature vic for Pelhain's love) P. I only call thoíc knaves who are fo now.
The scene, the inafter op'ning to my view, Is that too littlc? Come then, I'll complia
I fit and dream I lee my Crazys anew! Spirit of Arnall! aid me while I lica
Ev'a in a bishop I can spy defert;

Cobhain's a coward, Polwart is a llave,
Secker is decent, Rundel has a heart :

And Liuleton a dark designing knave;
Manne's with candour are to Benton given; St. John has ever been a wealthy fool--
To Berkley, ev'ry virtue under heas'n.

But let inc add, Sir Robert's mighty dull;
But does the court a worthy man remore? Has never made a friend in private life,
That infant, I declare, he has my love : And was, besides, a tyran: to hi, wife.


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