Such as the drawer will not fail to fwear
Was drunk by Pilkington when third time mayor.
That name, methinks, fo popularly known
For oppofition to the church and crown,
Might make the Lufitanian grape to pass,
And almoft give a fanction to the glass;
Efpecially with thee, whofe hafty zeal
Against the late rejected commerce-bill
Jade thee rife up, like an audacious elf,
To do the speaker bonour, not thyself.

But, if thou foar'ft above the common prices,
By virtue of fubfcription to thy Crifis,
And nothing can go down with thee, but wines
Prefs'd from Burgundian and Campanian vines,
Bid them be brought; for, though I hate the French,
I love their liquors, as though lov'ft a wench;
Elfe thou muft humble thy expenfive tafte,
And, with us, hold contentment for a feast.

The fire's already lighted; and the maid Has a clean cloth upon the table laid, Who never on a Saturday had struck, But for thy entertainment, up a buck. Think of this act of grace, which by your leave Sufan would not have done on Eafter Eve, Had the not been inform'd over and over, "Twas for the ingenious Author of The Lover.

Cease therefore to beguile thyfelf with hopes, Which is no more than making fandy ropes, And quit the vain purfuit of loud applaufe, That must bewilder thee in faction's caufe. Pry'thee what is t to thee who guides the state? Why Dunkirk's demolition is fo late? Or why her Majesty thinks fit to cease The din of war, and hufh the world to peace? The clergy too, without thy aid, can tell What texts to choose, and on what topics dwell; And, uninftructed by thy babbling, teach Their flocks celeftial happinefs to reach. Rather let fuch poor fouls as you and I Say that the holidays are drawing nigh, And that to-morrow's fun begins the week, Which will abound with ftore of ale and cake, With hams of bacon, and with powder'd beef, Stuff'd to give field-itinerants relief.

Then I, who have within thefe precincts kept, And ne'er beyond the chimney-fweeper's ftept, Will take a loofe, and venture to be feen, Since 'twill be Sunday, upon Shanks's green; There, with erected looks and phrafe fublime, To talk of unity of place and time,

And with much malice, mix'd with little fatire, Explode the wits on t'other fide o'th' water.

Why has my Lord Godolphin's fpecial grace
Invested me with a queen's-waiter's place,
If I, debarr'd of feftival delights,

Am not allow'd to spend the perquifites?
He's but a fhort remove from being mad,
Who at a time of jubilee is fad;
And, like a griping ufurer, does fpare
His money to be fquander'd by his heir
Flutter'd away in liveries and in coaches,
And washy forts of feminine debauches.

As for my part, whate'er the world may think,
I'll bid adieu to gravity, and drink;

And, though I can't put off a woeful mien,
Will be all mirth and cheerfulnefs within:
As, in defpight of a cenforious race,
I most incontinently fuck my face.

What mighty projects does not he deign, [wine?
Whofe ftomach flows, and brain turns round with
Wine, powerful wine, can thaw the frozen cit,
And fashion him to humour and to wit;
Makes even S**** to disclofe his art,

By racking every fecret from his heart,
As he flings off the ftatefman's fly disguise,
To name the cuckold's wife with whom he lies.
Ev'n Sarum, when he quaffs it stead of tea,
Fancies himself in Canterbury's fee;
And S******, when he carousing reels,
Imagines that he has regain'd the feals:
W**** , by virtue of its juice, can fight,
And Stanhope of commiflioners make light.
Wine gives Lord William aptitude of parts,
And fwells him with his family's deferts:
Whom can it not make eloquent of speech?
Whom in extremeft poverty not rich ?
Since, by the means of the prevailing grape,
Th****n can Lechmere's warmth not only ape,
But, half-feas-o'er, by its infpiring bounties,
Can qualify himself in feveral counties.
What I have promis'd, thou mayft rest affur'd,
Shall faithfully and gladly be procur'd.
Nay, I'm already better than my word,
New plates and knives adorn the jovial board:
And, left thou at their fight fhouldft make wry faces,
The girl has fcower'd the pots, and wash'd the glaffes,
Ta'en care fo excellently well to clean 'em,
That thou mayft fee thine own dear picture in 'em,
Moreover, due provision has been made,
That converfation may not be betray'd;
I have no company but what is proper
To fit with the most flagrant Whig at fupper.
There's not a man among them but must please,
Since they 're as like each other as are peas.
Toland and Hare have jointly fent me word,
They 'll come; and Kennet thinks to make a third,
Provided he 'as no other invitation,
From men of greater quality and station.
Room will for Oldmixon and J-s be left;
But their difcourfes fmell too much of theft:
There would be no abiding in the room,
Should two fuch ignorant pretenders come.
However, by this trusty bearer write,
If I fhould any other fcabs invite;
Though if I may my ferious judgment give,
I'm wholly for King Charles's number five:
That was the ftint in which that monarch fix'd
Who would not be with noisiness perplex'd :
And that, if thou 'It agree to think it beft,
Shall be our tale of heads, without one other guest.
I've nothing more, now this is faid, to say,
But to request thou 'lt inftantly away,
And leave the duties of thy prefent poft,
To fome well-fkill'd retainer to a hoft;
Doubtfefs he'll carefully thy place fupply,
And o'er his Grace's horfes have an eye,
While thou, who 'it flunk through poftern more than
Doft by that means avoid a crowd of duns,
And, croffing o'er the Thames at Temple-stairs,
Leav'ft Philips with good words to cheat their cars

TO LORD HARLEY,

ON HIS MARRIAGE, 1713.

AMONG the numbers who employ
Their tongues and pens to give you joyt

[once,

Dear Harley! generous youth, admit
What friendship dietates more than wit.
Forgive me, when I fondly thought
(By frequent obfervations taught)
A fpirit to inform'd as yours
Could never profper in amours.

The God of Wit, and Light, and Arts,
With all acquir'd and natural parts,
Whofe harp could favage beaits enchant,
Was an unfortunate gallant.

Had Bacchus after Daphne reel'd,

The Nymph had foon been brought to yield:
Or, had embroider'd Mars puriued,
The Nymph would ne'er have been a prude.
Ten thousand footsteps, full in view,
Mark out the way where Daphne flew :
For fuch is all the fex's flight,
They fly from learning, wit, and light:
They fly, and none can overtake

But fome gay coxcomb, or a rake.

How then, Dear Harley, could I guess
That t you should meet, in love, fucceís?

For, if thofe ancient tales be true,

Fhabus was beautiful as you :

Yet Daphne never flack'd her pace,

For wit and learning fpoil'd his face.

And, fince the fame refemblance held

In gifts wherein you both excell'd,

I fancy'd every nymph would run
From
you, as from Latona's fon.

Then where, faid I, fhall Harley find
A virgin of fuperior mind,

With wit and virtue to discover,
And pay the merit of her lover?
This character fhall Ca'endifh claim,
Born to retrieve her fex's fame.
The chief among the glittering crowd,"
Of titles, birth, and fortune proud,'
(As fools are infolent and vain)
Madly afpir'd to wear her chain:
But Pallas, guardian of the Maid,
Defcending to her charge's aid,
Held out Mcdufa's fnaky locks,
Which ftupify'd them all to stocks.
The Nymph with indignation view'd
The dull, the noify, and the lewd:
For Pallas, with celeftial light,
Had parify'd her mortal fight;
Show'd her the virtues all combin'd,
Fresh blooming, in young Harley's mind.
Terreftrial nymphs, by former arts,
Difp ay their various nets for hearts:
Their looks are all by method fet,
When to be prude, and when coquette;
Yet, wanting fkill and power to choose,
Their only pride is to refuse.
But, when a gooddefs would bestow
Her love on fome bright youth below,
Round all the earth fhe cafts her eyes;
And then, defcending from the Ikies,
Makes choice of him the fancies best,
And bids the ravish'd youth be blefs'd.
Thus the bright Empress of the Morn
Chofe, for her ipoufe, a mortal born:
The Goddess made advances first;
Ele what afpiring hero durst?
Though, like a virgin of fifteen,
She blushes when by mortals feen ;

Still blushes, and with speed retires,
When Sol pursues her with his fires.

Diana thus, Heaven's chafteft queen,
Struck with Endymion's graceful mien,
Down from her filver chariot came,
And to the Shepherd own'd her flame.
Thus Ca'endifh, as Aurora bright,
And chafter than the Queen of Night,
Defcended from her fphere, to find
A mortal of fuperior kind.

IN SICKNESS.

Written in Ireland, Oober 1714.

'Tis true-then why fhould I repine
To fee my life fo faft decline?
But why obfcurely here alone,
Where I am neither lov'd nor known?
My ftate of health none care to learn;
My life is here no foul's concern:
And thofe with whom I now converfé,
Without a tear will tend my herse.
Remov'd from kind Arbuthnot's aid,
Who knows his art, but not his trade,
Preferring his regard for me
Before his credit or his fee.
Some formal vifits, looks, and words,
What mere humanity affords,

I meet perhaps from three or four,
From whom I once expected more;
Which those who tend the fick for pay
Can act as decently as they :
But no obliging tender friend
To help at my approaching end.
My life is now a burden grown
To others, ere it be my own.

Ye formal weepers for the fick,
In your last offices be quick;
And spare my abfent friends the grief
To hear, yet give me no relief;
Expir'd to-day, intomb'd to-morrow,
When known, will fave a double forrow.

THE FABLE OF THE BITCHES.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1715. On an Attempt to repeal the Teft A&. A BITCH that was full pregnant grown, By all the dogs and curs in town, Finding her ripen'd time was come, Her litter teeming from her womb, Went here and there, and every where, To find an eafy place to lay-her.

At length to Mufic's houfe the came, And begg'd like one both blind and lame; My only friend, my dear," said the, "You fee 'tis mere neceflity

"Hath fent me to your houfe to whelp; "I'll die, if you deny your help.'

With fawning whine, and rueful tone, With artful figh and feigned groan, With couchant cringe, and flattering tale, Smooth Bawty + did fo far prevail,

The Church of England.

↑ A Scotch name for a bitch; alluding to t'e kirk.

That Mufic gave her leave to litter:
But mark what follow'd-faith! fhe bit her.
Whole baskets full of bits and scraps,
And broth enough to fill her paps;
For well the knew, her numerous brood,
For want of milk, would fuck her blood.

But when the thought her pains were done,
And now 'twas high time to be gone;
In civil terms My friend," fays the,
My houfe you 've had on courtefy;
"And now I earnestly defire,

leave

"That you would with your cubs retire:
"For, fould you stay but one week longer,
"I shall be starv'd with cold and hunger."
The gueft reply'd-" My friend, your
"I mufl a little longer crave;
"Stay till my tender cubs can find
"Their way for now, you fee, they're blind;
"But, when we 've gather'd ftrength, I fwear,
"We'll to our barn again repair.'

The time pafs'd on; and Mufic came,
Her kennel once again to claim;
But Bawty, lot to shame and honour,
Set all her cubs at once upon her;
Made her retire, and quit her right,
And loudly cry'd-" A bite! a bite!"

THE MORAL.

Thus did the Grecian wooden horfe Conceal a fatal armed force: No fooner brought within the walls,' But Ilium's loft, and Priam falls.

HORACE, BOOK III. ODÉ II.

TO THE EARL OF OXFORD, LATE LORD TREA

SURER.

Sent to bim when in the Tower, 1716.

How bleft is he who for his country dies,
Since Death purfues the coward as he flies!
The youth in vain would fly from Fate's attack,
With trembling knees and terror at his back;
Though Fear fhould lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet fwifter Fate will feize him from behind.

Virtue repuls'd, yet knows not to repine,
But fhall with unattained honour thine;
Nor ftoops to take the faff*, nor lays it down,
Juft as the rabble pleafe to fmile or frown.

Virtue, to crown her favourites, loves to try
Some new unbeaten paffage to the sky;
Where Jove a feat among the gods will give
To thofe who die for meriting to live.

Next, faithful Silence hath a fure reward;
Within our breaft be every fecret barr'd!
He who betrays his friend, fhall never be
Under one roof, or in cne fhip, with me.
For who with traitors would his fafety truft,
Left, with the wicked, heaven involve the juft ?
And, though the villain fcape awhile, he feels
Slow vengeance, like a blood-hound, at his heels.

* The enfion of the Lord Treofurer's office.

PHYLLIS;

OR, THE PROGRESS OF LOVE, 1716.
DESPONDING Phyllis was endued
With every talent of a prude:
She trembled when a man drew near;
Salute her, and the turn'd her ear;
If o'er against her you were plac'd,
She durit not look above your waist:
She'd rather take you to her bed,
Than let you fee her drefs her head :
In church you hear her, through the crowd,
Repeat the abfolution loud:

In church, fecure behind her fan,
She durft behold that moniter mun;
There practis'd how to place her head,
And bit her lips to make them red;
Or, on the mat devoutly kneeling,
Would lift her eyes up to the cicling,
And heave her bofom unaware,
For neighbouring beaux to fee it bare.
At length a lucky lover came,
And found admittance to the dame.
Suppofe all parties now agreed,
The writings drawn, the lawyer fee'd,
The vicar and the ring befpoke:

Guefs, how could fuch a match be broke?
See then what mortals place their blifs in !
Next morn betimes the bride was mifling:
The mother fcream'd, the father chid;
Where can this idle wench be hid?
No news of Phyl! the bridegroom came,
And thought his bride had fkuik'd for fhame;
Because her father us'd to fay,
The girl bad fuch a bafeful way!

Now John the butler must be fent
To learn the road that Phyllis went.
The groom was wifh'd to faddle Crop;
For John muit neither light nor ftop,
But find her, wherefoe'er fhe fled,
And bring her back, alive or dead.

See here again the devil to do!
For truly John was mifling too:
The horfe and pillion both were gone!
Phyllis, it feems, was fled with John.

Old Madam, who went up to find
What papers Phyl had left behind,
A letter on the toilet fees,

The thing was done, and pafl recalling;

"And therefore hop'd the fhould recover

His favour, when his paffion's

over.

"She valued not what others thought her,
"And was his moft obedient daughter."
Fair maidens, all attend the Mufe,
Who now the wandering pair purfues:
Away they rode in homely fort,
Their journey long, their money fhort;
The loving couple well bemir'd':
The horfe and both the riders tir'd:
Their victuals bad, their lodging worse;
Phyl cry'd, and John began to curfe:
Phy! wifh'd that the had ftrain'd a limb,
When first the ventur'd out with him;
John wifh'd that he had broke a leg,
When firat for her he quitted Peg.

But what adventures more befei them,
The Mafe hath now no time to tell them,
How Johnny wheeddied, threaten'd, fawn'd,
Till Phyllis all her trinkets pawn'd:
How oft' fhe broke her marriage vows
In kindness to maintain her fpoufe,

Till fwains unwholefome spoil'd the trade;
For now the furgeons must be paid,
To whom thofe perquifites are gone,
In Chriftian juftice due to John.

When food and raiment now grew fcarce,
Fate put a period to the farce,
And with exact poetic juftice;
For John was landlord, Phylis hoftefs;
They kept, at Staines, the Old Blue Boar,
Are cat and dog, and rogue and whore.

AD AMICUM ERUDITUM

THOMAM SHERIDAN, 1717.

DELIC Sheridan Mufarum, dulcis amice,
Si tibi propitius Permeifi ad flumen Apollo
Occurrat, feu te mimum convivia rident,

quivocofque fales fpargis, feu ludere verfu
Males; dic, Sheridan, quifnam fuit ille deorum,
Qua melior natura orto tibi tradidit artem
Rimandi genium puerorum, atque ima cerebri
Scrutandi? Tibi nafcenti ad cunabula Pallas
Aftitit; & dixit, mentis præfaga futuræ,
Heu, puer infelix! noftro fub tidere natus;
Nam tu pectus eris fine corpore, corporis umbra;
Sed levitate umbram fuperabis, voce cicadar:
Mufca femur, palmas tibi mus dedit, ardea crura.
Corpore fed tenui tibi quod natura negavit,
Hoc animi dotes fupplebunt; teque docente,
Nec longum tempus, furget tibi docta juventus,
Artibus egregiis animas inftructa novellas.
Grex hinc Paonius venit, ecce, falutifer orbi.
Aft, illi caufas orant; his infula vifa eft
Divinam capiti nodo conftringere mitram.

Nata is te horæ non fallunt figna, fed ufque Confcius, expedias puero feu latus Apolo Nafcenti arrifit; five illum frigidus horror Saturni premit, aut feptem inflavere triones. Quin tu a'te penitufque latentia femina cernis, Ona que diu obtundendo olim fub luminis auras

VIRTUE Conceal'd within our breast,

Is inactivity at best:

But never fhall the mufe endure

To let your virtues lie obfcure,
Or fuffer Envy to conceal
Your labours for the public weal.
Within your breast all wisdom lies,
Either to govern or advife;
Your fteady foul preferves her frame
In good and evil times the fame.
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud
Stand in your facred prefence aw'd; `
Your hand alone from gold abstains,
Which drags the flavish world in chains.
Him for a happy man I own,
Whofe fortune is not overgrown;
And happy he, who wifely knows
To ufe the gifts that Heaven heitows;
Or, if it pleafe the Powers Divine,
Can fuffer want, and not repine.
The man who, infamy to fhun,
Into the arms of death would run,
That man is ready to defend
With life his country, or his friend.

TO MR. DELANY, Nov. 10. 1718.

To you, whofe virtues, I must own
With fhame, I have too lately known;
To you, by art and nature taught
To be the man I long have fought,
Had not ill fate, perverfe and blind,
Plac'd you in life too far behind;
Or, what I fhould repine at more,
Plac'd me in life too far before:
To you the mufe this verfe beftows,
Which might as well have been in profe;
No thought, no fancy, no fublime,
But fimple topics told in rhyme.

Talents for converfation fit,
Are humour, breeding, fenfe, and wit.
The laft, as boundlefs as the wind,
Is well conceiv'd, though not defin'd:
For, fure, by wit is chiefly meant
Applying well what we invent.
What humour is, not all the tribe
Of logic-mongers can defcibe;
Here nature only acts her part,
Unhelp'd by practice, books, or art:
For wit and humour differ quite;
That gives furprife, and this delight.
Humour is odd, grotefque, and wild,
Only by affectation spoil'd:

That Mufic gave her leave to litter:
But mark what follow'd-faith! fhe bit her.
Whole baskets full of bits and fcraps,
And broth enough to fill her paps;
For well the know, her numerous brood,
For want of milk, would fuck her blood.

But when the thought her pains were done, And now 'twas high time to be gone; In civil terms" My friend," fays the, "My houfe you 've had on courtefy; "And now I earnestly defire,

"That you would with your cubs retire:
"For, faould you ftay but one week longer,
"I fhall be ftarv'd with cold and hunger."

The gueft reply'd-" My friend, your leave "I mufl a little longer crave;

Stay till my tender cubs can find "Their way for now, you fee, they 're blind; "But, when we've gather'd ftrength, I swear, "We'll to our barn again repair."

The time pafs'd on; and Mufic came,
Her kennel once again to claim;
But Dawty, lot to shame and honour,
Set all her cubs at once upon her;
Made her retire, and quit her right,
And loudly cry'd- A bite! a bite!"

THE MORAL.

Thus did the Grecian wooden horse Conceal a fatal armed force : No fooner brought within the walls,' But Ilium's loft, and Priam falls.

HORACE, BOOK III. ODE II.

TO THE EARL OF OXFORD, LATE LORD TREA

SURER.

Sent to bim ruhen in the Tower, 1716.

How bleft is he who for his country dies,
Since Death purfues the coward as he flies!
The youth in vain would fly from Fate's attack,
"With trembling knees and terror at his back;
Though Fear fhould lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet fwifter Fate will feize him from behind.

Virtue repuls'd, yet knows not to repine,
But fhall with unattained honour fhine;
Nor ftoops to take the fa*, nor lays it down,
Juft as the rabble pleafe to fmile or frown.

Virtue, to crown her favourites, loves to try
Some new unbeater paffage to the sky;
Where Jove a feat among the gods will give
To thofe who die for meriting to live.

Next, faithful Silence hath a fure reward;
Within our breaft be every fecret barr'd!
He who betrays his friend, fhall never be
Under one roof, or in cne fhip, with me.
For who with traitors would his fafety truft,
Left, with the wicked, heaven involve the juft?
And, though the villain fcape awhile, he feels
Slow vengeance, like a blood-hound, at his heels.

The enlign of the Lord Treafarer's office.

PHYLLIS;

OR, THE PROGRESS OF LOVE, 1716.
DESPONDING Phyllis was endued
With every talent of a prude:
She trembled when a man drew near;
Salute her, and the turn'd her ear;
If o'er against her you were plac'd,
She durit not look above your waift:
She'd rather take you to her bed,
Than let you fee her dress her head:
In church you hear her, through the crowd,
Repeat the abfolution loud:

In church, fecure behind her fan,
She durft behold that moniter man;
There practis'd how to place her head,
And bit her lips to make them red;
Or, on the mat devoutly kneeling,
Would lift her eyes up to the cieling,
And heave her bofom unaware,
For neighbouring beaux to fee it bare.
At length a lucky lover came,
And found admittance to the dame.
Suppofe all parties now agreed,
The writings drawn, the lawyer fee'd,
The vicar and the ring befpoke:

Guefs, how could fuch a match be broke?
See then what mortals place their blifs in!
Next morn betimes the bride was mifling:
The mother fcream'd, the father chid;
Where can this idle wench be hid?
No news of Phyl! the bridegroom came,
And thought his bride had fkulk'd for fhame;
Because her father us'd to fay,
The girl bad fuck a befeful way!

Now John the butler must be fent
To learn the road that Phyllis went.
The groom was wifh'd to faddle Crop;
For John muit neither light nor ftop,
But find her, where foe'er fhe fled,
And bring her back, alive or dead.

See here again the devil to do!
For truly John was mifling too :
The horfe and pillion both were gone!
Phyllis, it fems, was fled with John.

Old Madam, who went up to find
What papers Phyl had left behind,
A letter on the toilet fees,

To my much-honour'd father-thefe
('Tis always done, romances tell us,
When daughters run away with fellows)
Fill'd with the choiceft common-places,
By others us'd in the like cafes.
"That long ago a fortune-teller

Exactly faid what now befel her; "And in a glafs had made her fee "A ferving-man of low degree. "It was her fate, must be forgiven; "For marriages were made in heaven: "His pardon begg'd: but, to be plain, She'd do 't, if 'invere to do again: "Thank'd God, 'twas neither fbame nor fin "Fer John was come of boneft kin. "Love never thinks of rich and poor: "She'd beg with John from door to door. "Forgive her, if it be a crime; "She'll never do 't another time.