Gold, imp'd by thee, can compass hardest things, Our fates and fortunes, as the wind fhall blow: 45 50 Oh! that fuch bulky Bribes as all might fee, Still, as of old, incumber'd Villainy! Could France or Rome divert our brave defigns, With all their brandies, or with all their wines? What could they more than Knights and 'Squires confound, Or water all the Quorum ten miles round? A ftatefman's flumbers how this fpeech would fpoil! 55 "Sir, Spain has fent a thousand jars of oil; "Huge bales of British cloth blockade the door; "A hundred oxen at your levee roar." Poor Avarice one torment more would find; Nor could Profufion fquander all in kind. Aftride his cheese Sir Morgan might we meet : And Worldly crying coals from street to street, Whom, with a wig so wild, and mien fo maz'd, Pity mistakes for fome poor tradesman craz`d. 60 Had VARIATION. After ver. 50. in the MS. To break a truft were Peter brib'd with wine, Had Colepepper's whole wealth been hops and hogs, 65 His Grace will game: to White's a Bull be led, Or foft Adonis, fo perfum'd and fine, Drive to St. James's a whole herd of fwine? Oh filthy check on all induftrious skill, 70 75 To spoil the nation's laft great trade, Quadrille! What fay you? B. Say? Why take it, Gold and all. P. What Riches give us, let us then inquire? Meat, Fire, and Cloaths. B. What more? P. Meat, Cloaths, and Fire. Is this too little? would you more than live? With all th' embroidery plaifter'd at thy tail? VARIATION. Ver. 77. Since then, &c.] In the former Ed. Well then, fince with the world we stand or fall, 80 85 ༡༠ They They might (were Harpax not too wife to spend) To fome, indeed, Heaven grants the happier fate, 95 Perhaps you think the Poor might have their part, Bond damns the Poor, and hates them from his heart; grave Sir Gilbert holds it for a rule The "God cannot love (fays Blunt, with tearless eyes) 105 110 P. Some War, fome Plague, or Famine, they foresee, Some Revelation hid from you and me. Why Shylock wants a meal, the cause is found, 115 120 Why Why she and Sappho raise that monstrous fum ? 125 130 Wife Peter fees the World's refpect for Gold, And therefore hopes this Nation may be fold: Glorious Ambition! Peter, fwell thy ftore, And be what Rome's great Didius was before. The Crown of Poland, venal twice an age, To juft three millions stinted modeft Gage. But nobler fcenes, Maria's dreams unfold, Hereditary Realms, and worlds of Gold. Congenial fouls; whose life one Avarice joins, And one fate buries in th' Afturian Mines. Much-injur'd Blunt! why bears he Britain's hate? A wizard told him in these words our fate: "At length Corruption, like a general flood, "(So long by watchful Minifters withstood) "Shall deluge all; and Avarice, creeping on, "Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the Sun; "Statesman and Patriot ply alike the Stocks, "Peerefs and Butler fhare alike the Box, "And Judges job, and Bishops bite the town, "And mighty Dukes pack cards for half a crown. "See Britain funk in lucre's fordid charms, 135 140 “And France reveng'd of ANNE's and EDWARD'S "arms!" 'Twas no Court-badge, great Scrivener, fir'd thy brain, Nor lordly Luxury, nor City Gain : No, 'twas thy righteous end, asham'd to fee And And nobly wishing Party-rage to cease, "All this is madness," cries a fober sage : 150 155 Hear then the truth: "'Tis Heaven each Paffion "fends, "And different men directs to different ends. 160 165 170 175 Old |