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But, let the caufe be what it will,
In half a month fhe looks fo thin, That Flarnfteed + can, with all his skill, See but her forehead and her chin.
Yet, as she wastes, the grows difcreet,
For fure, if this be Luna's fate, Poor Celia, but of mortal race, In vain expects a longer date
To the materials of ber face.
When Mercury her treffes mows,
Ye powers, who over love prefide!
THE PROGRESS OF POETRY.
THE farmer's goofe, who in the ftubble
Soon make my dame grow lank and spare:
Hear founds harmonious from the fkies.
But view him in another scene, When all his drink is Hippocrene, His money fpent, his patrons fail, His credit out for cheese and ale; His two-years coat fo smooth and bare, Through every thread it lets in air; With hungry meals his body pin'd, His guts and belly full of wind; And, like a jockey for a race, His flesh brought down to flying cafe Now his exalted spirit loaths lucumbrances of food and clothes;
And up he rifes, like a vapour,
THE SOUTH SEA PROJECT. 1721.
"Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto, "Armavirum, tabula que, et Troïa gaza per undas."
YE wife philofophers, explain
What magic makes our money rise, When dropp'd into the Southern main; Or do thefe jugglers cheat our eyes? Put in your money fairly told;
Prefto! be gone-'Tis here again : Ladies and gentlemen, behold,
Here's every piece as big as ten. Thus in a bafon drop a fhilling
Then fill the veffel to the brim; You fhall obferve, as you are filling, The ponderous metal feems to fwint. It rifes both in bulk and height,
Behold it fwelling like a fope; The liquid medium cheats your fight; Behold it mounted to the top!
In flock three hundred thousand pound;
Pute all upon a defperate bet;
The mariner with rapture fees, On the smooth ocean's azure bed,
Enamel'd fields and verdant trees: With eager hafte he longs to rove
In that fantaftic scene, and thinks It must be fome enchanted grove;
And in he leaps, and down he finks. Five hundred chariots, juft befpoke,
Are funk in thefe devouring waves, The horfes drown'd, the harnefs broke, And here the owners find their graves. Like Pharaoh, by directors led;
They with their spoils went fafe before; His chariots, tumbling out the dead, Lay fhatter'd on the Red-Sea fhore. Rais'd up on Hope's afpiring plumes,
The young adventurer o'er the deep An eagle's flight and ftate affumes, And fcorns the middle-way to keep. On paper wings he takes his flight,
With wax the father bound them fast The wax is melted by the height,
And down the towering boy is caft.
moralift might here
rafhnels of the Cretan
Defcribe his fall into the main,'
He melts the wax at every flame;
In Southern Seas he leaves his name. Inform us, you that best can tell,
Why in yon' dangerous gulph profound, Where hundreds and where thoufands fell, Fools chiefly float, the wife are drown'd? So have I feen from Severn's brink
A flock of geefe jump down together; Swim, where the bird of Jove would fink, And, fwimming, never wet a feather. But, I affirm, 'tis falfe in fact,
Directors better knew their tools; We fee the nation's credit crack'd, Each knave hath made a thousand fools.
One fool may from another win,
And then get off with money ftor'd; But, if a fharper once comes in,
He throws at all, and fweeps the board.
As fifhes on each other prey,
The great ones fwallowing up the small; So fares it in the Southern Sea;
The whale directors eat up all.
When flock is high, they come between, Making by fecond-hand their offers; Then cunningly retire unfeen,
With each a million in his coffers.
So when upon a moon-fhine night
An afs was drinking at a ftream; A cloud arofe, and ftopp'd the light, By intercepting every beam :
The day of judgment will be foon
(Cries out a fage among the crowd); An afs hath fwallow'd up the moon!
(The moon lay fafe behind a cloud). Each poor fubfcriber to the fea
Sinks down at once, and there he lies; Directors fall as well as they,
Their fall is but a trick to rife.
So fishes, rifing from the main,
Can foar with moiften'd wings on high; The moisture dry'd, they fink again, And dip their fins again to fly. Undone at play, the female troops
Come here their loffes to retrieve; Ride o'er the waves in fpacious hoops, Like Lapland witches in a fieve. Thus Venus to the fea defcends,
As poets feign; but where's the moral ? It shows the Queen of love intends
To fearch the deep for pearl and coral. The fea is richer than the land,
I heard it from my grannam's mouth; Which now I clearly understand,
For by the fea fhe meant the South.
Thus by directors we are told,
"Pray, Gentlemen, believe your eyes;
Directors! for 'tis you I warn,
By long experience we have found What plannet rul'd when you were born: We fee you never can be drown'd.
Beware, nor over-bulky grow,
Nor come within your cully's reach;
To leave you dry upon the beach,
While you lie helpless on the fand.
may fome western tempeft sweep Thefe locuts whom our fruits have fed, That plague Directors to the deep,
Driv'n from the Soutb-Sea to the Red!
May be, whom Nature's laws obey,
And fill the madnefs of the crowd!"
But never shall our isle have rest,
Till thofe devouring fine run down, (The devils leaving the poffeft) And headlong in the waters drown. The nation then too late will find, Computing all their coft and troub', Diretor promifes but wind, South-Sea at beft a mighty bullits
THE DOG AND SHADOW.
ORE cibum portans catulus dum fpectat in undis,
TO A FRIEND,
Who had been much abused in many different Libels
THE greatest monarch may be stabb'd by night,
OUR fet of strollers, wandering up and down, Hearing the houfe was empty, came to town; And, with a licence from our good Lord Mayor, Went to one Griffith, formerly a player; Him we perfuaded, with a moderate bribe, To speak to Erlington and all the tribe, To let our company fupply their places, And hire us out their fcenes, and clothes, and faces. Is not the truth the truth? Look full on me; I am not Erlington, nor Griffith he. When we perform, look fharp among our crew, There's not a creature here you ever knew. The former folks were fervants to the king; We, humble ftrollers, always on the wing. Now, for my part, I think upon the whole, Rather than ftarve, a better man would firol'.
Stay, let me fee-Three hundred pounds a year, For leave to act in town! 'Tis plaguy dear. Now, here's a warrant; Gallants, piefe so mark, For three thirteens and fixpence to the clerk. Three hundred pounds! Were I the price to fix, The public fhould beftow the actors fix. A fcore of guineas, given underhand, For a good word or fo, we understand.
To help an honeft lad, that's out of place,
I pity Erlington with all my heart; Would he were here this night to act my part! I told him what it was to be a stroller; How free we acted, and had no comptroller: In every town we wait on Mr. Mayor, First get a licence, then produce our ware; We found a trumpet, or we beat a drum; Huzza! the (school-boys roar) the players are come! And then we cry, to fpur the bumpkins on, Gallants, by Tuesday next we must be gone. 3 told him, in the smootheft way I could, All this and more, yet it would do no good. But Erlington, tears falling from his cheeks, He that has fhone with Betterton and Wilks, To whom our country has been always dear, Who chose to leave his dearest pledges here, Owns all your favours, here intends to stay, And, as a ftroller, act in every play: And the whole crew this refolution takes, To live and die all ftrollers for your fakes; Not frighted with an ignominious name, For your displeasure is their only shame.
A pox in Elrington's majestic tone! Now to a word of bufinefs in our own.
Gallants, next Thursday night will be our laft; Then, without fail, we pack up for Belfast. Lofe not your time, nor our diverfions mifs, The next we act shall be as good as this.
GREAT folks are of a finer mold;
TO A PLAY FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE DISTRES-
GREAT ery and little wool-is now become
See, I am drefs'd from top to toe in stuff;
For which I think it reafon to conclude
How fweet and innocent's the country maid, With fmall expence in native wool array'd; Who copies from the fields her homely green, While by her fhepherd with delight fhe's feen! Should our fair ladies drefs like her in wool, How much more lovely, and how beautiful, Without their Indian drapery, they'd prove, Whilft wool would help to warm us into love! Then, like the famous Argonauts of Greece, We'd all contend to gain the Golden Fleece!
Their brother quill-men, workers for the stage,
But Weavers will be kinder to the Players,
A POEM, BY DR. DELANY,
ON THE PRECEDING PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE.
"Fœmineo generi tribuantur."
THE mufes, whom the richest filks array,
Like yours, ye fair, her fame from cenfure grows,
Penn'd the low prologue, to return a favour :
Where rustling curtains call the curious eye,
"fhall we bestow
But where," fay they,
That fpread our ftreets, and are fuch piteous
The filk-worms (brittle beings!) prone to fate,
Thefe may they tend, their promises receive;
ON GAULSTOWN HOUSE.
'Tis fo old, and fo ugly, and yet so convenient,
'Tis fo little, the family live in a prefs in't,
'Tis fo ugly, fo ufeful, fo big, and fo little;
'Tis at one time fo hot, and another fo cold;
PART OF A SUMMER SPENT AT GAULSTOWN-
THALIA, tell in sober lays,
How George, Nim §, Dan II, Dean T, pafs
And, fhould our Gaulton's art grow fallow,
*The feat of George Rochfort, Efq. (father to the Earl of Belvidere); where Dr. Swift and an agreeable fet of friends spent part of the fummer of 1721.
↑ Daughter to the Earl of Drogheda, and the wife of Mr. Rochfort.
His brother, Mr. John Rochfort, who was called Nimrod, from his great attachment to the chase.
Rev. Daniel Jackson.