Faithful affertor of thy country's caufe,
Britain with tears fhall bathe thy glorious wound: She for thy fafety fhall enlarge her laws,
And in her statutes fhall thy worth be found. VI.
Yet 'midft her fighs fhe triumphs, on the hand Reflecting, that diffus'd the public woe; A ftranger to her altars, and her land:
No fon of hers could meditate this blow.
Meantime thy pain is gracious Anna's care: Our Queen, our Saint, with facrificing breath Softens thy anguish: in her powerful prayer She pleads thy fervice, and forbids thy death.
Great as thou art, thou canst demand no more, O breaft bewail'd by earth, preferv'd by Heaven! No higher can afpiring Virtue foar :
Enough to thee of grief and fame is given.
OUR weekly friends to-morrow meet
At Matthew's palace, in Duke-street, To try 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 ftatefman, 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 guests which e'er my house Receiv'd, it never can produce
Of honour a more glorious proof- Though Dorfet us'd to bless the roof.
TWAY mice, full blythe and amicable,
Baten befide Erle Robert's table.
Lies there ne trap their necks to catch, Ne old black cat their fteps to watch, Their fill they eat of fowl and fish; Feaft lyche as heart of mouse mote wish. As guests fat jovial at the board, Forth leap'd our mice: eftfoons the lord Of Boling, whilome John the Saint, Who maketh oft' propos full queint, Laugh'd jocund, and aloud he cried, To Matthew feated on t'oth' fide ; To thee, lean Bard, it doth partain To understand thefe creatures tweine. Come frame us now fome clean device, Or playfant rhyme on yonder mice:
They feem, God fhield me! Mat and Charles. Bad as Sir Topas, or Squire Quarles, (Matthew did for the nonce reply)
At emblem, or device am I :
But, could I chaunt, or rhyme, pardie, Clear as Dan Chaucer, or as thee, Ne verfe from me (fo God me fhrive) On mouse, or other beast alive.
Sent myne poetic herd to graze. Ne armed knight ydrad in war With lion fierce will I compare; Ne judge unjust, with furred fox, Harming in fecret guise the flocks; Ne priest unworth of goddess coat, To fwine ydrunk, or filthy stoat: Elk fimile farewell for aye, From elephant, I trowe, to flea. Reply'd the friendlike peer, I Matthew is angred on the spleen. Ne fo, quoth Mat, ne shall be e'er, With wit that falleth all fo fair: Eftfoons, well weet ye, mine intent Boweth to your commaundement. If by these creatures ye have seen, Pourtrayed Charles and Matthew been ; Behoveth neet to wreck my brain, The reft in order to explain.
That cup-board, where the mice difport, I liken to St. Stephen's Court: Therein is space enough, I trow, For elke comrade to come and go: And therein eke may both be fed With fhiver of the wheaten bread. And when, as these mine eyne survey, They ceafe to skip, and fqueak, and play;
Return they may to different cells, Auditing one, whilst t'other tells.
Dear Robert, quoth the Saint, whose mind In bounteous deed no mean can bind; Now, as I hope to grow devout,
I deem this matter well made out.
Laugh I, whilft thus I ferious pray Let that be wrought which Mat doth fay: Yea, quoth the ERLE, but not to-day.
ULL oft' doth Mat with Topaz * dine,
Eateth bak'd meats, drinketh Greek wine;
But Topaz his own werke rehearseth, And Mat mote praise what Topaz verseth. Now, fure as prieft did e'er fhrive finner, Full hardly earneth Mat his dinner.
IN THE SAME STYLE.
FAIR Sufan did her wif-hede well menteine,
Algates affaulted fore by letchours tweine :
Now, and I read aright that auncient fong, Olde were the paramours, the dame full yong.
* The perfon here fatirized was Sir Richard Blackmore. N.
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