These toys and trifles I discard,
And leave the bays to Poet Ward."
No, now to politics confin'd,
I give up all the busy mind.
Curious, each pamphlet I peruse,
And sip my coffee o'er the NEWS;
But apropos, for last Courant
Pray thank the Lady Governante.
But what's this rumour in the mail
From Aix-pho, what is't, la Chapelle?
peace unites the jarring pow'rs,
And ev'ry trade will thrive but our's. "Farewell, (as wrong'd OTHELLO said,) "The plumed troops, and neighing steed." The troops, alas! more havock there
peace will make, than all the war.
What crowds of heroes, in a day,
Reduc'd to starve on half their pay !
From LOWENDAHL 'twould pity meet,
And SAXE himself might weep to see't.
Already fancy's active power
Fore-runs the near approaching hour.
Methinks (curs'd chance) the fatal stroke
I feel, and seem already broke:
An officer in the same regiment.
The Park I saunter up and down,
Or sit upon a bench alone.
Sneaking and sad-le juste portrait
D'un pouvre Capitaine Reformé :
My wig, which shunn'd each ruder wind,
Toupeed before, and bagg'd behind,
Which JOHN was us'd, with nicest art,
To comb, and taught the curls to part,
Lost the belle-air, the jaunty pride,
Now lank, depends on either side.
My hat, grown white and rustic o'er,
Once bien troussè with Galon d'Or.
My coat distain'd with dust and rain,
And all my figure quite campaign.
J'habillé fine with tarnish'd lace,
And hunger pictur'd in my face;
Tavern or coffee-house unwilling
To give me credit for a shilling;
Forbid by ev'ry scornful belle,
The precincts of the gay Ruelle.
My vows, tho' breath'd in ev'ry ear,
Not e'en a chambermaid will hear;
No silver in my purse to pay
For opera ticket, or the play.
No message sent to bid me come
A fortnight after to a Drum.
No visits or receiv'd or paid;
No ball, ridotto, masquerade.
All pensive, heartless, and chagrin,
I sit, devoted prey to spleen.
To you, dear PRICE, indulgent heav'n A gentler, happier lot has giv'n;
To you has dealt, with bounteous hands,
Palladian seats, and fruitful lands.
Then in my sorrows have the grace
To take some pity of my case,
And as you know the times are hard,
Send a spruce valet with a card;
Your compliments-and beg I'd dine,
And taste your mutton and your wine;
You'll find most punctual and observant
Your most oblig'd and humble servant.
His country's hope, when now the blooming heir,
Has lost the parent's or the guardian's care;
Fond to possess, yet eager to destroy,
Of each vain youth, say, what's the darling joy?
Of each rash frolic what the source and end,
His sole and first ambition what?-to spend.
Some 'squires, to GALLIA's cooks devoted dupes, Whole manors melt in sauce, or drown in soups: Another doats on fiddlers, 'till he sees
His hills no longer crown'd with tow'ring trees;
Convinc'd too late, that modern strains can move,
Like those of ancient GREECE, th' obedient grove:
In headless statues rich, and useless urns,
MARMOREO from the classic tour returns.-
But would ye learn, ye leisure-loving 'squires,
How best ye may disgrace your prudent sires;
How soonest soar to fashionable shame,
Be damn'd at once to ruin-and to fame;
By hands of grooms ambitious to be crown'd,
O greatly dare to tread OLYMPIC GROUND!
What dreams of conquest flush'd HILARIO's breast,
When the good knight at last retir'd to rest!
Behold the youth with new-felt rapture mark
Each pleasing prospect of the spacious park:
That park, where beauties undisguis'd engage,
Those beauties less the work of art than age;
In simple state where genuine nature wears
Her venerable dress of ancient years;
Where all the charms of chance with order meet,
The rude, the gay, the graceful, and the great.
Here aged oaks uprear their branches hoar,
And form dark groves, which Druids might adore ;
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