To the Right Honourable Mr. HARLEY. HORACE, 1 Ep. ix. imitated.
"Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus, "Quanti me facias, &c."
DEAR Dick*, howe'er it comes into his head,
Believes as firmly as he does his creed,
That you and I, Sir, are extremely great; Though I plain Mat, you Minifter of State: One word from me, without all doubt, he says, Would fix his fortune in fome little place. Thus better than myself, it seems, he knows, How far my intereft with my patron goes ; And, anfwering all objections I can make, Still plunges deeper in his dear mistake.
* Richard Shelton Efquire. B
From this wild fancy, Sir, there may proceed One wilder yet, which I foresee and dread; That I, in fact, a real interest have, Which to my own advantage I would fave, And, with the usual courtier's trick, intend To serve myself, forgetful of my friend.
To fhun this cenfure, I all shame lay by ; And make my reason with his will comply; Hoping, for my excufe, 't will be confeft, That of two evils I have chofe the leaft. So, Sir, with this epiftolary fcroll, Receive the partner of my inmost soul : Him you will find in letters and in laws Not unexpert, firm to his country's cause, Warm in the glorious intereft you pursue, And, in one word, a good man and a true.
To Mr. HARLEY, wounded by GUISCARD, 1711.
"Ducit opes animumque ferro."
N one great now, fuperior to an age,
The full extremes of Nature's force we find: How heavenly Virtue can exalt; or Rage
Infernal how degrade the human mind.
While the fierce monk does at his trial stand; He chews revenge, abjuring his offence: Guile in his tongue, and murder in his hand, He stabs his judge, to prove his innocence. III.
The guilty stroke and torture of the steel
Infix'd, our dauntless Briton fcarce perceives : The wounds his country from his death must feel, The Patriot views; for thofe alone he grieves.
The barbarous rage that durst attempt thy life, Harley, great counsellor, extends thy fame: And the fharp point of cruel Guiscard's knife, In brafs and marble carves thy deathless name. V.
Faithful affertor of thy country's cause,
Britain with tears fhall bathe thy glorious wound':
She for thy fafety shall enlarge her laws ;
And in her statutes shall thy worth be found. VI.
Yet 'midft her fighs fhe triumphs, on the hand Reflecting, that diffus'd the public woe ;
A stranger to her altars, and her land :
No fon of her's could meditate this blow.
Mean time thy pain is gracious Anna's care': Our Queen, our Saint, with sacrificing breath Softens thy anguifh: in her powerful prayer She pleads thy fervice, and forbids thy death. VIII. Great
Great as thou art, thou canst demand no more, O breast bewail'd by earth: preferv'd by Heaven'! No higher can aspiring Virtue soar: Enough to thee of grief and fame is given.
Earl of OXFORD, Lord High Treasurer, 1712.
UR weekly friends to-morrow meet At Matthew's palace, in Duke-street, for once if they can dine
On bacon-ham and mutton-chine:
If, weary'd with the great affairs Which Britain trufts to Harley's cares, Thou, humble statesman, may'ft defcend, Thy mind one moment to unbend ; To fee thy fervant from his foul
Crown with thy health the fprightly bowl: Among the guefts which e'er my house Receiv'd, it never can produce Of honour a more glorious proof- Though Dorfet us'd to blefs the roof.
« הקודםהמשך » |