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Of gentle blood (part shed in bonour's cause, O grant me thus to live, and thus to die!
While yet in Britain honour had applause) Who sprung from kings shall know less joy
Each parent sprung ---A. What fortune, pray?

than I.
P. Their owul

O friend ! may each domestic bliss be thine ! Aud better got than Bestia's from the throne Be no unpleasiug melancholy mine : Born to no pride, izberiting no strife,

Me let the tender office long engage, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife;

To rock the cradle of reposing age ; Stranger to civil and religious rage,

Witb lenient arts extend a mother's breath, The good man walkd innoxious through his Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of age,

death; Yo courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, Nor dar'd an oath, nor hazarded a lie.

And keep awhile one parent from the sky! C'eleara'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle On cares like these, if length of days attend, art;

May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my No language but the language of the heart.

friend, By nature honest, by experience wise,

Preserve bim social, cheerful and sorene, Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise ; And just as rich as when he serv'd a Queen. His life, tho' long, to sickness pass'd unknown, A. Whether that blessing be depieil or given, His death was instant and without a groan. Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heaven,

SATIRES AND EPIST LES OF HORACE IMITATED.

TO MR. FORTESCUE.

SATIRE I.

Rend with tremendous sound your ears asun.

der,

With gun, drum, trumpet, blanderbuss, and p. There are (I scarce can think it, but am

thunder? told)

Or nobly wild, with Budgel's fire and force, There are to whom my satire seems too bold; | Paint angels trembling round bis falling horse. Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,

F. Then all your muse's softer art display, And something said of Chartres much too Let Carolina smooth the tunefullay, rough,

Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine, The lines are weak, another's pleas'd to say;

And sweetly flow thro’all the royal line. Lord Fauny spins a thousand such a day.

P. Alas! few verses touch their uicer car'; Tim'rous by nature, of the rich in awe,

They scarce can bear their Laureate twice a I come to counsel learned in the law :

year' ; You 'll give me, like a friend both sage and And justly Cæsar scorns the poet's lays ; free,

It is to history he trusts for praise. Advice; and (as you use) without a fee.

F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it still, F. I'd write no more.

Than ridicule all taste, blaspheme quadrille, P. Not write? but then I think: Abuse the city's best good men in metre, And for my soul I cannot sleep a wink. And laugh at peers that put their trust in I nod in company, I wake at night;

Peter. Fools rush into my head, and so I write.

Ev’n those you touch not, hate you. F. You could not do a worse thing for your

P. What should ail them! life.

F. A hundred smart in Timon and in Paluan. Why, if the night seems tedious, take a wife : The fewer still you name, you wound the more; Or rather truly, if your point be rest,

Bond is but one, but Harpax is a score. Lettuce and cowslip wine-aprobatum est.

P. Each mortal has his pleasure: none ueny But talk with Celsus, Celsus will advise

Scarsdale bis bottie, Darty bis bam-pye; Hartshorn, or something that shall close your Ridotta sips and dancis, till she see eyes.

(praise ; | The doubling lustres dance as fast as she : Or, if you neeils must write, write Cæsar's F- loves the senate, lockley. hole his You'll gain at least a knighthood, or the bays.

brother, P. What! like Sir Richard, rumbling, rough, Like in all eise as one egg to another. and fierce,

(the verse, I love to pour ont all myself, as piaju With arms, aud George, and Brunswick crowd || As duwuright Shippen, or as oid Montaigne :

Io them, as certain to be lov'd as seen,

Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car ; The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought || Bare the mean heart that lorks beneath a star; within :

Can there be wanting, to defend ber cause, lu me what spots (for spots I have) appear, Lights of the church, or guardians of the Will prove at least the medium must be clear.

Jaws? In this impartial glass my muse intends Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain Fair to expose myself, my foes, my friends ; Flatt'rers and bigots even in Louis' reign? Publish the present age ; but where my text Could Laureate Dryden pimp and friar engage, Is vice too bigh, reserve it for the next : Yet'neither Charles nor James be in a rage ? My foes shall wish my life a longer date, And I not strip the gilding off a knave, And ev'ry friend the less lameut my fate. Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir or slave? My head and heart thus flowing thromy I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause : quill,

(will, | Hear this, and tremble! you who 'scape the Verseman or Proseman, term me which you

laws. Papist or Protestant, or both between, Yes, while I live, no rich or poble knave Like good Erasmus in an honest mean, Shall walk the world in credit to bis grave. Jo moderation placing all my glory,

To virtue only and ber friends a friend, While Teries call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory. The world besides may ipurmur or commend.

Satire's my weapon, but l’nı too discreet Know, all the distant din that world can keep, To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet;

Rolls o'er my grotto, and but sooths my sleep, I only wear it in a land of hectors,

There, my retreat the best companions grace, Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.

Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place. Save but our army! and let Jove incrust There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl Swords, pikes, aud guns, with everlasting rust! The feast of reason and the flow of soul : Peace is my dear delight—not Fleury's more: And he, whose lightning pierc'd th' Iberian But touch me, and no minister so sore.

lines, Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Now forms my quincunx, and now ranks my Slides into verse, and bitches in a rhyme,

vines; Sacred to ridicule bis whole life lung,

Or tames the genius of the stubborn plain, And the sad burthen of some merry song. Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.

Slander or poison dread from Delia's rage ; Envy must own, I live among the great, Hard words, or hanging, if your judge be Page: || No pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state; Froin furious Sappho scarce a milder fate, With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er re. P-x'd by her love, or libell'd by her bate,

peats, Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels ; Fond to spread friendships, but to cover beats; Bulls aim their horns, and asses lift their heels; || To help who want, to forward who excel; 'Tis a bear's talent not to kick, but hug; This, all who know me know ; who love me, And no man wonders he's not stung by pug.

tell So drink with Waters, or with Chartres eat; And who unknown defame me, let them be They'll never poison you, they'll only cheat. Scribblers to peers, alike are mob to me.

Then, learned Sir! (to cut the matter short) || This is my plea, on this I rest my cause Whate'er my fate, or well or ill at court, What saith my counsel, learned in the laws ? Whether old age, with faint but cheerful ray, F. Your plea is good; but still I say, beware! Attends to gild the ev'uing of my day; Laws are explain'd by mnen-so have a care. Or death's black wing already be display'd, It stands on record, that in Richard's times To wrap me in the universal shade;

A man was hang'd for very honest rhymes ! Whether the darkeu'd room to muse invite, Consult the statute, quart. I think it is, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skewer to write, || Edwardii seut. or prim. et quint. Eliz. la durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, See Libels, Satires—here you have it-read. Like Lee or Burgel, I will rhyme and print. P. Libels and Satires ! lawless things indeed! F. Alas, young man ! your days can ne'er be But grave Epistles, bringing vice to light, long i

Such as a king might read, a Bishop write, In flow'r of age you perish for a song!

Such as Sir Robert would approve Plums and directors, Shylock and his wife,

F. Indeed ? Will club their testers now to take your life! The case is alterd-you way then proceed ; P. What ? arm'd for virtue when I point the In such a cause the plaintiff will be hiss'd, pen,

My lords the judges laugh, and you're disBrandtbe bold front of shameless guilty men ;

miss'd.

TO KR. BETHEL.

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SATIRE II.

Sell their presented partridges and fruits,
And bunibly live on rabbits and on roots :

One half pint bottle serves them both to dine,
What, and how great, the virtue and the And is at once their vinegar and wine.
art,

But on some lucky day (as when they found To live on little with a cheerful heart,

A lost Bank bill, or heard their son (A doctrine sage, but truly nove of mine),

drown'd) Let's talk, my friends, but talk before we dine. At such a feast, old vinegar to spare, Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride

Is what two souls so gen'rous cannot bear : Turus you from sound philosophy aside ; Oil, though it stiuk, they drop by drop impart; Not wben from plate to plate your eye-balls

But souse the cabbage with a bounteous heart. roll,

He knows to live who keeps the middle state, And the brain dancing to the mantling bowl. And neither leans on this side nor on that; Hear Bethel's sermon, one not versid in Nor stops for one bad cork his butler's pay; schools,

Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away; But stroug in sense,and wise without the rules, Nor Jets, like Nævius, ev'ry error pass; Go work, bunt, exercise ! (he thus began) The musty wine, foul cloth, or greasy glass. Then scorn a homely dinner if you can.

Now hear what blessings Temperance can Your wine lock'd up, your butler strollid bring : abroad,

(Tbus said our friend, and what he said I sing) Or fish denied (the river yet unthaw'd), First health: the stomach (crammd from ev'ry If then plain bread and milk will do the feat,

dish, The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat. A tomb of boild and roast, and Aesh and fish,

Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men Where bile, and wind, and pblegm, and acid Will choose a pheasant still before a hen;

jar, Yet hens of Guinea full as good I hold, And all the man is one intestine war) Except you eat the feathers green and gold. Remembers oft the school boy's simple fare, Of carps and mullets why prefer the great, The temp'rate sleeps, and spirits light as air. (Tho'cut in pieces ere my lord can eat), How pale each worshipful and rev'rend guest Yet for small turbots such esteem profess? Rise from a clergy or a city feast ! Because God made these large, the other less. What life in all that ample body, say ? Oldfield, with more than harpy throat endued, What heavenly particle inspires the clay? Cries, “Send me, gods! a whole hog barbe The soul subsides, and wickedly inclines cued!

To seein but mortal, even in sound divines. O blast it, south winds, till a stench exhale On morning wings how active springs the Rank as the ripeness of a rabbit's tail !

mind By s liat criterion do you eat, d'ye think, That leaves the load of yesterday behind! If this is priz'd for sweetness, that for stink? How easy ev'ry labour it pursues ! When the tir'd glutton labours thro' a treat, How coming to the Poet ev'ry Muse; He finds no relish in the sweetest meat ; Not but we may exceed some holy time, He calis for something bitter, something sour, Or tird in search of truth, or search of rhyme; And tbe rich feast concludes extremely poor : Ill health some just indulgence may engage, Cheap eggs, and herbs, and olives still we And more the sickness of long life, old age; see;

For fainting age what cordial drop remains, Thus much is left of old simplicity!

If our intemp'rate youth the vessel drains ? The robin red-breast till of late had rest

Our fathers prais'd rank ven’son. You supAnd children sacred held a martin's nest.

pose, Till Becca-ficas sold so dev'lish dear

Perhaps, young men! our fathers had no nose. To one that was, or would have been a peer. Not so: a buck was then a week's repast, Let me extol a cat on oysters fed,

And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last; I'll have a party at the Bedford-head;

More pleas'd to keep it till their friends could Or eren to crack live crawfish recommend,

come, I'd never doubt at court to make a friend. Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home. 'Tis yet in vain, I own, to keep a pother Why had not I in those good times my birth, About une vice, and fall into the other : Ere coxcomb pyes or coxcombs were on eartlı? Between excess and tamine lies a mean;

Unworthy be the voice of Fame to bear, Plain, but not sordid; tho'not splenuid clean. That sweetest music to an honest ear,

Aridien, or bis wife (no matter which, (For, faith, Lord Fanny! you are in the wrong; For hiin you'll call a dog and her a bitch,) The world's good word is better than a song)

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Who has not learn’d fresh sturgeon and ham. To Houstow-heath I point, aud Baustedруе,

down; Are no rewards for want and infamy?

Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks
When luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf,

my own :
Curs’d by thy neighbours, thy trustces, thyself; | From yon old walnut tree a show'r shall full;
To friends, to fortune, to mankind a shame, And grapes, lung ling'ring ou my only wall,
Think how posterity will treat thy name;

And figs from standard and espalier join;
And buy a rope, that future times may tell The devil is in you, if you cannot dine:
Thou hast at least bestow'd a penny well. Then cheerful healths (your mistress shall hare
« Riglit," cries his Lordship, " for a rogue in place;)
need,

And what's more rare, a poet shall say grace. « To have a taste, is insolence indeed :

Fortune not much of humbling me can boast;
« In me, 'tis voble, suits my birth and state, Tho' double tax'd, how little have I lost!
“My wealth unwieldy, and my heap too great." || My life's amusements have been just the same
Then, like the sun, let Bourty spread her ray, || Before and after standing armies came.
And shine that superfluity away.

My lands are sold, my father's house is gone :
O impudence of wealth! with all thy store, I'll hire another's; is not that my own,
How dar’st thou let one worthy man be poor? And yours, my friends thro'whose free op'ning
Shall half the new built churches round thee

gate
fall?

(ball : | None comes too early, none departs too late;
Make quays, build bridges, or repair White | For I who hold sage Homer's rule the best,
Or to thy country let that heap he lent, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
As Mo's was, but not at five per cent. "Pray Heaven it last! (cries Swift) as you go
Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her
mind,

“ I wish to God this house had been your own.
Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. “ Pity! to build without a son or wife;
And who stands safest? tell me, is it be “ Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life.”
That spreads and swells in puff'd prosperity; Well, if the use be mine, can it coucern one,
Or, blest with little, whose preventing care Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon?
In peace provides fit arms against a war? What's property? dear Swift! you see it alter
Thus Bethel spoke, who always speaks his From you to me, from me to Peter Walter;
thought,

Or, in a mortgage, prove a lawyer's share;
And always speaks the very thing he ought : Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir;
His equal mind I copy what I can,

Or in pure equity, (the case not clear)
Aud as I love, would imitate the man,

The Chancery takes your rents for twenty year:
In South-sea days not happier, when surmis'd At best, it falls to some ungracious son,
The lord of thousands, than if now excis'd; Who cries, “My father's damn'd, and all's my
Ju forest planted by a father's band,

own.”
Than in five acres now of rented land.

Shades that to Bacon could retreat afford,
Content with little, I can piddle here

Become the portion of a booby lord;
On brocoli and mutton round the year ; And Hensley, once proud Buckingham's de-
But ancient friends (tho' poor, or out of play), light,
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away. Slides to a scriv'ner or a city knight.
'Tis true, no turbots dignify my boards ; Let lands and houses have what lords they will,
But gudgeons, founders, what my Thames Let us be fix'd, and our own masters still.

affords.

on :

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THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.

TO LORD BOLINGBROKE.

EPISTLEI.

Public too long, ah! Ict me bide my age ;
See modest Cibber now has left the stage;

Our gen'rals, now, retire to their estates,
St. John, whose love indulg'd my labours past, Hang their old trophies o'er the garden gates ;
Blatures my present, and shall bound my last! In life's cool ev'ning, satiate of applause,
Why will you break the Sabbath of my days? Nor fond of bleeding cven in Brunswick's
Now sick alike of envy and of praise.

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A voice there is that whispers in my ear,

'Tis the first virtue vices to abhor;

And the first wisdom to be fool 10 inore. hear)

{ breath, But to the world no bugbear is so great “ Friend Pope! be prudent, let your Muse take As want of figure and a small estate. “ And never gallop Pegasus to death;

To either india see the inerchant fly, “ Lest stiff' and stately, void of fire or force,

Scar'd at the spectre of pale poverty ! “ You limp, like Blackmore, on a Lord Mayor's See bim with pains of body, pangs of soul, horse."

Burn through the tropic, freeze beneath the Farewel then, verse, and love, and ev'ry toy, poie! The rhymes and rattles of the man or boy ; Wilt thou do nothing for a nobler end, What right, what true, what fit we justly call, Nothing to make philosophıy thy friend! Let tbis be all my care-for this is all:

To stop thy foolish views, thy long desires, To lay this harvest up, and board with baste, And ease thy heart of all that it admires? That ev'ry day will want, and most the last. Here wisdom calls : “Seek virtue first, be bold! But ask pot to what Doctors I apply;

As gold to silver, virtue is to gold." Sworn to no master, of no sect am 1:

There, Londou's voice : “Get money, money As drives the storm, at any door I knock;

still! And house with Montaigue now, or now with

“And then let virtue follow if she will." Locke.

This, this the saving doctrine preach'd to all, Sometimes a patriot, active in debate,

From low St. James's up to high St. Paul! Mix with the world, and battle for the state,

Froin him whose quills stand quiver'd at his ear, Free as young Lyttelton her cause pursue,

To him who notches sticks at Westminster. Still true to virtue, and as warm as true : Barnard in spirit, sense, and truth abonnds; Sometimes with Aristippus, or St. Paul, “Pray then, what wants he:” Fourscore thoulodulge my canduur, and grow all to all;

sand pounds; Back to my native moderation slide,

A pension, or such harness for a slave And win my way by yielding to the tide. As Bug now has, and Dorimant would have.

Long as to him who works for debt the day, Barnard, thou art a cit, with all thy worth; Long as the night to her whose love's away, Aud Bug and D-1, their honours and so forth. Long as the year's dull circle seems to run Yet ev'ry child another song will sing; When tbe brisk minor pants for twenty-one; “ Virtue, brave boys ! 'tis virtue makes a king." So slow th' uuprofitable moments roll,

True conscious honour is to feel no sin ; That lock up all the functions of my soul; He's arni'd without that's innocent within: That keep me from myself, and still delay Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of bruss, Life's instant business to a future day: Compar'd to this, a minister's an ass. That task, which as we follow or despise, And say to which shall our applause belong, The eldest is a fool, the youngest wise : This wew court jargon, or the good old song; Which done, the poorest can no wants endure; | The modern language of corruptei peers, And, which not done, the richest must be poor. Or what was spoke of Cressy or Poitiers? Late as it is, I put myself to school,

Who counsels best! who whispers, “ Be hut And feel some comfort not to be a fool.

great, Weak tho' I am of linb, and short of sight, “With praise or infamy, leave that to fate; Far from a Lynx, and not a Giant quite; ! Get place and wealth, if possible with grace ; I'll do what Mead and Cheselden advise, (eyes. “ If not, by any means get wealth and place." To keep these limbs, and to preserve these For what? to have a box where Eunuchs sing, Not to go back, is somewhat to advance ; And forenjost in the circle eye a KingAnd men must walk at least before they dance. Or he, who bids thee face with steady view

Say, does thy blood rebel, thy bosom move Proud Fortune, and look shallow Greatness With wretched av'rice, or as wretched love?

thro',

(too? Kuow there are words and spells which can And, while he bids thee, sets th'example, control,

If such a doctrine in St. James's air [stare; Between the fits, this fever of the soul;

Should chance to make the well-dressid rabble Know there are rhymes, which, fresh and fresh If honest S-z take scandal at a Spark applied,

That less admires the Palace than the Park, Will cure the arrant'st puppy of his pride.

Faith I shall give the answer reynard gave :Be furious, envious, slothful, mad, or drunk, “ I cannot like, dread Sir, your royal care; Shave to a wife, or vassal to a punk,

“Because I sce, by all the tracks about, A Switz, a High Dutch, or a Low Dutch bear; “ Full many a beast goes in but none come All that we ask is but a patient ear. La Belle Assemblée. No. XLI.

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