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But how feverely with themselves proceed
The men, who write fuch verfe as we can read?
Their own ftrict judges, not a word they spare,
That wants or force, or light, or weight, or care,
Howe'er unwillingly it quits its place,

Nay though at Court (perhaps) it may find grace:
Such they'll degrade; and fometimes, in its ftead,
() In downright charity revive the dead;
Mark where a bold, expreffive phrafe appears,
Bright through the rubbish of fome hundred years;
Command old words that long have flept, to wake,
Words, that wife Bacon, or brave Raleigh spake;
Or bid the new be English, ages hence,
(For use will father what's begot by fenfe)
Pour the full tide of eloquence along,
Serenely pure, and yet divinely strong,

Rich with the treasures of each foreign tongue!
Prune the luxuriant, the uncouth refine,
But fhow no mercy to an empty line:
Then polish all, with fo much life and ease,
You think 'tis nature, and a knack to please:
"But cafe in writing flows from art, not chance;
"Asthofe move eafieft who have learn'd to dance."
(9) If fuch the plague and pains to write by rule,
Better (fay 1) be pleas'd, and play the fool;
Call, if you will, bad rhyming a disease,
It gives men happinefs, or leaves them ease.
There liv'd in primo Georgii (they record)
A worthy member, no small fool, a lord;
Who, though the house was up, delighted fate,
Heard, noted, answer'd, as in full debate:
In all but this, a man of sober life,
Fond of his friend, and civil to his wife;
Not quite a madman, though a pafty fell;
And much too wife to walk into a well.

Him, the damn'd doctors and his fiends immur'd, They bled, they cupp'd, they purg'd; in short, they cur'd:

Whereat the gentleman began to ftare

My friends! he cry'd, p-x take you for your care!
That from a patriot of diftinguifh'd note,
Have bled and purg'd me to a fimple vote.

Audebit quaecunque parum fplendoris habebunt,
Et fine pondere erunt, et honore indigna ferentur,
Verba movere loco; quamvis invita recedant,
Et verfentur adhuc intra penetralia Vestae :
(p) Obfcurata diu populo bonus eruet, atque
Proferet in lucem-fpeciofa vocabula rerum,
Quae prifcis memorata Catonibus atque Cethegis,
Nanc fitus informis premit et deserta vetuftas;
Adicifcet nova, quae genitor produxerit ufus :
Vehemens et liquidus, puroque fimillimus amni,
Fundet opes, Latiumque beabit divite lingua:
Luxuriantia compefcet: nimis afpera fano
Levabit cultu, virtute carentia tollet:
Laudentis fpeciem dabit, torquebitur, ut qui
Nunc Satyrum, nunc agreftem Cyclopa movetur.
(9) Praetulerim fcriptor delirus inerfque videri,
Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant,
Quam fapere, et ringi. Fuit haud ignobilis argis,
Qui fe credebat miros audire tragoedos,
In vacuo laetus feffor plauforque theatro:
Cactera qui vitae fervaret munia recto

(r) Well, on the whole, plain prose must be my fate:

Wisdom (curfe on it) will come foon or late.
There is a time when poets will grow dull:
I'll e'en leave veres to the boys at school:
To rules of poetry no more confin'd,
I'll learn to fmooth and harmonise my mind,
Teach every thought within its bounds to roll,
And keep the equal measure of the foul.

(s) Soon as I enter at my country door,
My mind refumes the thread it dropp'd before;
Thoughts which at Hyde-park corner I forgot,
Meet and rejoin me, in the penfive grot.
There all alone, and compliments apart,

[crave,

I ask these fober questions of my heart. () If, when the more you drink, the more you You tell the doctor; when the more you have, The more you want, why not with equal cafe Confefs as well your folly, as disease? The heart refolves this matter in a trice, "Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."

() When golden angels cease to cure the evil, You give all royal witchcraft to the devil: When fervile chaplains cry, that birth and place Indue a peer with honour, truth, and grace; Look in that breast, most dirty Dean! be fair, Say, can you find out one fuch lodger there? Yet ftill, not heeding what your heart can teach, You go to church to hear these flatterers preach. Indeed, could wealth bestow or wit or merit, A grain of courage, or a spark of spirit, The wifeft man might blush, I must agree, If D*** lov'd fixpence, more than he.

(v) If there be truth in law, and use can give A property, that's yours on which you live.

More; bonus fane vicinus, amabilis hofpes,
Comis in uxorem ? poffet qui ignofcere fervis,
Et figno laefo non infanire lagenae :

Poffet qui rupem, et puteum vitare patentem.
Hic ubi cognatorum opibus curifque refectus,
Expulit elleboro morbum bilemque meraco,
Et redit ad fefe: Pol me occidiftis, amici,
Non fervaftis, ait; cui fic extorta voluptas,
Et demptus per vim mentis gratiffimus error.

(r) Nimirum fapere eft abjectis utile nugis, Et tempeftivum pueris concedere ludum; (s) Ac non verba fequi fidibus modulanda Latinis, Sed verae numerofque modofque edifcere vitae. Quocirca mecum loquor haec, tacitufque recordor: (t) Si tibi nulla fitimi finiret copia lymphae, Narrares medicis: quod quanto plura parasti, Tanto plura cupis, nulline faterier audes?

(u) Si vulnus tibi monftrata radice vel herba Non fieret levius, fugeres radice vel herba Proficiente nihil curarier: audieras, cui Rem Dî donarint, ille decedere pravam Stultitiam; et, cum fis nihilo fapientior, ex quo Plenior es, tamen uteris monitoribus îfdem?

At fi divitiae prudentem reddere poffent, Si cupidum timidumque minus te: nempe ruberes, Viveret in terris, te fi quis avarior uno.

() Si proprium eft, quod quis libra mercatus et

acre eft,

Delightful Abs-court, if its fields afford
Their fruits to you, confesses you its lord :
All(a) Worldly's hens, nay, partridge, fold to town,
His venifon too, a guinea makes your own:
He bought at thousands, what with better wit
You purchase as you want, and bit by bit;
Now, or long fince, what difference will be found?
You pay a penny, and he paid a pound.

(y) Heathcote himself, and fuch large-acred men,
Lords of fat E'fham, or of Lincoln-fen,
Buy every stick of wood that lends them heat;
Buy every pullet they afford to eat.

Yet thefe are wights, who fondly call their own
Half that the devil o'erlooks from Lincoln-town.
The laws of God, as well as of the land,
Abhor a perpetuity should stand:

Eftates have wings, and hang in fortune's power (z) Loose on the point of every wavering hour, Ready, by force, or of your own accord,

By fale, at leaft by death, to change their lord. Man? and for ever? wretch ! what wouldst thou have?

Heir urges heir, like wave impelling wave.
All vaft poffeffions (just the same the cafe
Whether you call them villa, park, or chase)
Alas, my Bathurst! what will they avail?
Join Cotfwood's hills to Saperton's fair dale,
Let rifing granaries and temples here,
There mingled farms and pyramids appear,
Link towns to towns with avenues of oak,
Enclofe whole downs in walls, 'tis all a joke!
Inexorable Death shall level all,

And trees, and ftones, and farms, and farmer fall.

(a) Gold, silver, ivory, vases sculptur'd high, Paint, marble, gems, and robes of Perfian dye,

Quaedam (fi credis confultis) mancipat ufus:
Qui te pafcit ager, tuus eft ; et villicus Orbî,
Cum fegetes occat tibi mox frumenta daturus,
Te dominum fentit.

(x) das nummos; accipis uvam,
Pullos, ova, cadum, temeti: nempe modo ifto
Paulatim mercaris agrum, fortaffe trecentis,
Aut etiam fupra, nummorum millibus emtum.
Quid refert, vivas numerato nuper, an olim ?

(1) Emtor Aricini quondam, Veientis et arvi, Emtum coenat olus, quamvis aliter putat; emtis Sub noctem gelidam lignis calefa&at aḥenum. Sed vocat ufque fuum, qua populus ad fita certis Limitibus dicina refigit jurgia: tanquam (z) Sit proprium cuiquam, puncto quod mobilis horae, [prema, Nunc prece, nunc pretio, nunc vi, nunc forte fuPermutet dominos, et cedat in altera jura.

Sic, quia perpetuus nulli datur ufus, et haeres Haeredem alterius, velut unda fupervenit undam: Quid vici profunt, aut horrea? quidve Calabris Saltibus adjecti Lucani; fi metit Orcus Grandia cum parvis, non exorabilis auro? (a) Gemmas, marmor, ebur, Tyrrhena figilla, tabellas,

Argentum, veftes Gaetulo murice tinctas,
Sunt qui non habeant; eft qui non curat habere.

There are who have not-and thank heaven there are,

Who, if they have not, think not worth their care. (6) Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find

Two of a face, as soon as of a mind.
Why, of two brothers, rich and restless one
Ploughs, burns, manures, and toils from fun to fun;
The other flights, for women, fports, and wines,
All Townshend's turnips, and all Grosvenor's mines:
Why one like Bu- with pay and scorn content,
Bows and votes on, in court and parliament;
One, driven by strong benevolence of foul,
Shall fly, like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole:
is known alone to that Directing Power,
Who forms the genius in the natal hour;
That God of Nature, who, within us still,
Inclines our action, not constrains our will;
Various of temper, as of face or frame,
Each individual; his great end the fame.

(c) Yes, Sir, how small foever be my heap,
A part I will enjoy, as well as keep.
My heir may figh, and think it want of grace
A man fo poor would live without a place :
But fure no ftatute in his favour fays,
How free, or frugal, I fhall pass my days:
I, who at fome times spend, at others spare,
Divided between carelessness and care.
'Tis one thing madly to disperse my store;
Another, not to heed to treasure more :
Glad, like a boy, to snatch the first good day,
And pleas'd, if fordid want be far away.

(f) What is 't to me (a paffenger God wot)
Whether my vessel be first-rate or not?
The ship itself may make a better figure;
But I that fail, am neither less nor bigger:
I neither ftrut with every favouring breath,
Nor ftrive with all the tempeft in my teeth.
In power, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, plac'd
Behind the foremost, and before the last.

(6) Cur alter fratrum ceffare, et ludere, et ungi Praeferat Herodis palmetis pinguibus; alter Dives et importunus, ad umbram lucis ab ortu Silveftrem flammis et ferro mitiget agrum : Scit Genius, natale comes qui temperat aftrum: Naturae Deus bumane, mortalis in unum Quodque caput, vulta mutabilis, albus, et ater. (c) Utar, et ex modico, quantum res pofcet,

acervo

Tollam: nec metuam, quid de me judicet haeres, Quod non plura datis invenerit, et tamen idem Scire volam, quantum fimplex hilarifque nepoti Difcrepet, et quantum difcordet parcus avaro. Diftat enim, fpargas tua prodigus, an neque fum

tum.

Invitus facias, nec plura parare labores;
Ac potius, puer ut feftis Quinquatribus olim,
Exiguo gratoque fruaris tempore raptim. [utrum
(ƒ) Pauperics immunda domus procul abfit: ego,
Nave ferar magna an parva, ferar unus et idem.
Non agimur tumidis velis Aquilone fecundo:
Non tamen adverfis aetatem ducimus Auftris,

(2)" But why all this of avarice? I have none." i with you joy, Sir, of a tyrant gone; But does no other lord it at this hour, As wild and mad? the avarice of power? Does neither rage inflame, nor fear appall? Not the black fear of death, that faddens all? With terrors round, can reason hold her throne, Despise the known, nor trouble at th' unknown? Survey both worlds, intrepid and entire, In spite of witches, devils, dreams, and fire? Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind, And count each birth-day with a grateful mind? Has life no fournefs, drawn fo near its end; Canft thou endure a foe, forgive a friend?

Viribus, ingenio, fpecie, virtute, loco, re,
Extremi primorum, extremis ufque priores.
(g) Non es avarus: abi. quid? caetera jam fi-
mul isto

Cum vitio fugere? caret tibi pectis inani
Ambitione? caret mortis formidine et ira?

Has age but melted the rough parts away,
As winter fruits grow mild ere they decay?
Or will you think, my friend, your business done,
When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one?

(6) Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank your fill:

Walk sober off; before a sprightlier age

Comes tittering on, and fhoves you from the stage! Leave fuch to trifle with more grace and ease, Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please.

Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, fagas,
Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Theffala rides
Natales grate numeras? ignofcis amicis?
Lenior et melior fis accedente fene&ta?
Quid te extrema levat fpinis de pluribus una?
(b) Vivere fi recte nefcis, decede peritis.
Lufifti fatis, edisti satis, atque bibisti:
Tempus abire tibi eft: ne potum largius aequo
Rideat, et pulfet lafciva decentius actas.

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SATIRE II.

Yes; thank my stars! as early as I knew
This town, I had the sense to hate it too :
Yet here, as ev'n in hell, there must be still
One giant-vice, fo excellently ill,
That all befide, one pities, nor abhors;
As who knows Sappho, fmiles at other whores.
I grant that poetry's a crying fin;
It brought (no doubt th' excife and army in:
Catch'd like the plague, or love, the Lord knows
But that the cure is ftarving, all allow. [how
Yet like the papift's, is the poet's state.
Poor and difarm'd, and hardly worth your hate!
Here a lean bard, whofe wit could never give
Himself a dinner, makes an actor live:
The thief condemn'd, in law already dead,
So prompts, and faves a rogue who cannot read.
Thus as the pipes of fome carv'd organ move,
The gilded puppets dance and mount above.
Heav'd by the breath th' infpiring bellows blow:
Th' infpiring bellows lie and pant below.

One fings the fair: but fongs no longer move;
No rat is rhym'd to death, nor maid to love :
In love's, in nature's fpite, the fiege they hold,
And scorn the flesh, the devil, and all but gold.
These write to lords, fome mean reward to get,
As needy beggars fing at doors for meat.
Those write because all write, and so have still
Excufe for writing, and for writing ill.

Wretched indeed! but far more wretched yet Is he who makes his meal on others wit: 'Tis chang'd, no doubt, from what it was before; His rank digeftion makes it wit no more:

Senfe, paft through him, no longer is the fame ;
For food digefted takes another name.

I pass o'er all thofe confeffors and martyrs,
Who live like S-tt-n, or who die like Chartres,
Out-cant old Efdras, or out-drink his heir,
Out-ufure Jews, or Irishmen out-fwear;
Wicked as pages, who in early years

Act fins which Prifca's confeffor fcarce hears.
Ev'n those I pardon, for whofe finful fake
Schoolmen new tenements in hell must make;
Of whofe ftrange crimes no canonist can tell
In what commandment's large contents they dwell.
One, one man only breeds my just offence;
Whom crimes gave wealth, and wealth gave im-
pudence:

Time, that at laft matures a clap to pox,
Whofe gentle progrefs makes a calf an ox,
And brings all natural events to pass,
Hath made him an attorney of an afs.
No young divine, new-benefic'd, can be
More pert, more proud, more pofitive, than he.
What further could I with the fop to do,
But turn a wit, and fcribble verses too?
Pierce the foft labyrinth of a lady's ear
With rhymes of this per cent., and that per year?
Or court a wife, fpread out his wily parts,
Like nets or line-twigs, for rich widows hearts;
Call himself barrister to every wench,
And woo in language of the pleas and bench?
Language, which Boreas might to Auster hold
More rough than forty Germans when they
fcold.

Curs'd be the wretch, fo venal and fo vain :
Paltry and proud, as drabs in Drury-lane.

'Tis fuch a bounty as was never known,

If Peter deigns to help you to your own:
What thanks, what praife, if Peter but fupplies!
And what a folemn face, if he denies !

Grave, as when prisoners shake the head and fwear
'Twas only furetifhip that brought them there..
His office keeps your parchment fates entire,
He farves with cold to fave them from the fire;
For you he walks the streets through rain or duft,
For not in chariots Peter puts his truft;
For you he fweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witnefs he affects your cause,
And lies to every lord in every thing,
Like a king's favourite-or like a king.
Thefe are the talents that adorn them all,
From wicked Waters ev'n to godly **
Not more of Simony beneath black gowns,
Not more of baftardy in heirs to crowns.
In fhillings and in pence at firft they deal;
And fleal fo little, few perceive they steal;
Till, like the fea, they compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand:
And when rank widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a duke to Janffen punts at White's,
Or city heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far lefs joy than they.
Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole eftate.
Then ftrongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, covenants, articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far
Than civil codes, with all their gloffes, are;
So vaft, our new divines, we must confefs,
Are fathers of the church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes heires :
No commentator can inore lily pafs
Over a learn'd, unintelligible place:

Or, in quotation, fhrewd divines leave out [doubt. Those words that would against them clear the So Luther thought the pater-nofter long, When doom'd to fay his beads and even-fong; But having cafl his cowl, and left those laws, Adds to Chrift's prayer, the power and glory clause. The lands are bought, but where are to be found Thale ancient woods, that fhaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces afpire, No kitchens emulate the veftal fire. Where are those troops of poor, that throng'd of The good old landlord's hofpitable door? Well, I could with, that ftill in lordly domes Some beafts were kill'd, though not whole heca.

tombs;

[yore

That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthufian fafts, and fulfome bachanals;
And all mankind might that just mean obferve,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.
These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow,
But oh! thefe works are not in fashion now:
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare,
Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.
Thus much I've faid, I truft, without offence;
Let no court fycophant pervert my fenfe,
Nor fly informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of treafon, or the law.
Vol. VIII,

SATIRE IV.

WELL, if it be my time to quit the ftage,
Adieu to all the follies of the age!
I die in charity with fool and knave,
Secure of peace at leaft beyond the grave.
I've had my purgatory here betimes,
And paid for all my fatires, all my rhymes.
The poet's hell, its tortures, fiends, and flames,
To this were trifles, toys, and empty names.

With foolish pride my heart was never fir'd,
Nor the vain itch t' admire, or be admir'd;
I hop'd for no commiffion from his Grace;
I bought no benefice, I begg'd no place :
Had no new verses, nor new fuit to show;
Yet went to court!-the devil would have it fo.
But, as the fool that in reforming days
Would go to mafs in jeft (as story says)
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Since 'twas no form'd defign of ferving God;
So was I punish'd, as if full as proud,
As prone to ill, as negligent of good,
As deep in debt, without a thought to pay,
As vain, as idle, and as falfe, as they
Who live at court, for going once that way!
Scarce was I enter'd, when, behold! there came.
A thing which Adam had been pos'd to name;
Noah had refus'd it lodging in his ark,
Where all the race of reptiles might embark:
A verier monster, than on Afric's fhore
The fun e'er got, or flimy Nilus bore,

Or Sloan or Woodward's wondrous fhelves contain,
Nay, all that lying travellers can feign.
The watch would hardly let him pafs at noon,
At night would fwear him dropp'dout of the moon.
One, whom the mob, when next we find or make
A popish plot, fhall for a Jefuit take,
And the wife juftice starting from his chair
Cry, By your priesthood tell me what you are?,

Such was the wight: th' apparel on his back, Though coarfe, was reverend, and though bare, was black:

The fuit, if by the fashion one might guess,
Was velvet in the youth of good Queen Befs,
But mere tuff-taffety what now remain'd;
So time, that changes all things, had ordain'd!
Our fons fhall fee it leifurely decay,
First turn plain rafh, then vanish quite away.

This thing has travell'd, and speaks language

too,

And knows what's fit for every state to do;
Of whofe beft phrafe and courtly accent join'd,
He forms one tongue, exotic and refin'd,

Talkers I've learn'd to bear; Morteux I knew,
Henley himself I've heard, and Budgel too.
The Doctor's wormwood ftyle, the hath of
tongues

A pedant nakes, the form of Cunfon's lungs,
The whole artillery of the terms of war,
And (all thofe plagues in one) the bawling bar;
Thefe I could bear; but not a rogue fo civil,
Whofe tongue will compliment you to the devil.
A tongue, that can cheat widows, cancel fcores,
Make Scots fpeak treafon, cozen fubtleft whores

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