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Faithful assertor of thy country's cause,
Britain with tears shall bathe thy glorious wound :
She for thy safety shall enlarge her laws,
And in her statutes shall thy worth be found.
Yet ’midst her sighs she triumphs, on the hand
Reflecting, that diffus’d the public woe ;
A stranger to her altars, and her land :
No son 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 service, and forbids thy death.
Great as thou art, thou canst demand no more,
O breast bewail'd by earth, preserv'd by Heaven
No higher can aspiring 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 trusts to Harley's cares,
Thou, humble statesman, may'st descend
Thy mind one moment to unbend,
To see thy fervant from his soul
Crown with thy health the sprightly bowl ;
Among the guests which e'er my house
Receiv’d, it never can produce
Of honour a more glorious proof-
Though Dorset us'd to bless the roof.
TWAY mice, full blythe and amicable,
1 Baten beside Erle Robert's table.
Lies there ne trap their necks to catch,
Ne old black cat their steps to watch,
Their fill they eat of fowl and fish;
Feast lyche as heart of mouse mote wish.
As guests fat jovial at the board,
Forth leap'd our mice: eftsoons 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 these creatures tweine.
Come frame us now some clean device,
Or playsant rhyme on yonder mice :
They seem, God shield 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 verse from me (so God me shrive)
On mouse, or other beast alive.
Certes I have this many days
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 secret guise the flocks ;
Ne priest unworth of goddess coat,
To swine ydrunk, or filthy stoat :
Elk simile farewell for aye,
From elephant, I trowe, to flea.
Reply'd the friendlike peer, I weene
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 rest in order to explain.
That cup-board, where the mice disport,
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 shiver of the wheaten bread.
And when, as these mine eyne survey,
They cease to skip, and squeak, 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, whilst thus I serious pray?
Let that be wrought which Mat dath say:
Yea, quoth the Erle, but not to-day.
CULL oft' doth Mat with Topaz * dine,
I Eateth bak'd meats, drinketh Greek wine;
But Topaz his own werke rehearseth,
And Mat mote praise what Topaz verseth.
Now, fure as priest did e'er shrive finner,
Full hardly earneth Mat his dinner.
L AIR Susan did her wif-hede well menteine,
I' Algates assaulted fore by letchours tweine :
Now, and I read aright that auncient song,
Olde were the paramours, the dame full yong.
* The person here satirized was Sir Richard Blackmore. N.