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Not so: a buck was then a week's repast,

And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last;
More pleas'd to keep it till their friends could come
Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home.
'Why had not I in those good times my birth,
Ere coxcomb pies, or coxcombs, were on earth?
Unworthy he the voice of Fame to hear,
That sweetest music to an honest ear,
(For 'faith, Lord Fanny! you are in the wrong,
The world's good word is better than a song)
Who has not learn'd 3fresh sturgeon and ham-pie
Are no rewards for want and infamy!
When luxury has lick'd up all the pelf,

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Curs'd by thy neighbours, thy trustees, thyself;
To friends to fortune, to mankind, a shame,
Think how posterity will treat thy name;
And 5buy a rope, that future times may tell
Thou hast at least bestow'd one penny well.





Illis nullus erat; sed, credo, hac mente quod hospes Tardius adveniens vitiatum commodius, quam Integrum edax dominus consumeret. hos utinam Heroas natum tellus me prima tulisset.


2Das aliquid famæ, quæ carmine gratior aurem Occupat humanam? grandes rhombi, patinæque Grande ferunt una cum damno dedecus. adde 4 Iratum patruum, vicinos, te tibi iniquum, Et frustra mortis cupidum, cum deerit egenti 5As, laquei pretium.

Volume. III.


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"Right," cries his Lordship;" "for a rogue in

"To have a taste, is insolence indeed:

"In me 'tis noble, suits my birth and state,


"My wealth unwieldy, and my heap too great." Then, like the sun, let Bounty spread her ray, 115 And shine that superfluity away.

Oh impudence of wealth! with all thy store

How dar'st thou let one worthy man be poor?

Shall half the 3 new-built churches round thee fall? Make quays, build bridges, or repair Whitehall; 120 Or to thy country let that heap be lent,

As M**o's was, but not at five per cent.

4 Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her mind, Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind.

Ands who stands safest ? tell me is it he

That spreads, and swells, in puff'd prosperity?


I Jure, inquis, Thrasius istis

Jurgatur verbis: ego vectigalia magna,

Divitiasque habeo tribus amplas regibus. 2 Ergo, Quod superat, non est melius quo insumere possis? Cur eget indignus quisquam, te divite? quare 3 Templa ruunt antiqua Deum? cur improbe, caræ Non aliquid patriæ tanto emetiris acervo? Uni nimirum tibi recte semper erunt res? 40 magnus posthac inimicis risus! uterne s Ad casus dubios fidet sibi certius; hic, qui Pluribus assuerit mentem corpusque superbum;

Or, bless'd with little, whose preventing care
In peace provides fit arms against a war?"

! Thus Bethel spoke, who always speaks his thought, And always thinks the very thing he ought:


His equal mind I copy what I can,

And as I love would imitate the man.

In South-sea days, not happier, when surmis’d

The lord of thousands, than if now 2 excis'd;

In forest, planted by a father's hand,


Than in five acres now of rented land.

Content with little, I can piddle here

On 3 brocoli and mutton, round the year;

But 4 ancient friends, (tho' poor, or out of play)
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away:


'Tis true, nos turbots dignify my boards,

But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords:

An qui contentus parvo, metuensque futuri,
In pace, ut sapiens, aptarit idonea bello?

'Quo magis his credas: puer hunc ego parvus Ofellum Integris opibus novi non latius usum,

Quam nunc 2 accisis. videas metato in agello,
Cum pecore et gnatis, fortem mercede colonum,
"Non ego," narrantem, " temere edi luce profesta
Quidquam, præter 3 olus, fumosæ cum pede pernæ.
At mihi, cum 4 longum post tempus venerat hospes,
Sive operum vacuo gratus conviva per imbrem
Vicinus, bene erat, non piscibus urbe petitis,
Sed pullo, atque hoedo. tum 5 pensilis uva secundas

To Hounslow-heath I point, and Bansted-down,
Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my own:
From yon' old walnut-tree a show'r shall fall, 145
And grapes, long ling'ring on my only wall,
And figs from standard, and espalier join;

The devil's in you if you cannot dine:

Then 2 cheerful healths, (your mistress shall have


And, what's more rare, a poet shall say grace.


3 Fortune not much of humbling me can boast:
Tho' double-tax'd, how little have I lost!
My life's amusements have been just the same
Before and after 4 standing armies came.


My lands are sold, my father's house is gone; I'll hire another's; is not that my own, And yours, my friends? thro' whose free-op'ning gate None comes too early, none departs too late; (For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.) "Pray Heav'n it last! (cries Swift) as you go on; "I wish to God this house had been your own!

Et nux ornabat mensas, cum duplice ficu.
Post hoc ludus erat 2 cuppa potare magistra;
Ac venerata Ceres, ut culmo surgeret alto,
Explicuit vino contractæ seria frontis.


3 Sæviat, atque novos moveat Fortuna tumultus! Quantum hinc imminuet? quanto aut ego parcius, aut O pueri, nituistis, ut huc 4 novus incola venit? [vos,

"Pity! to build without a son or wife:
"Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life."
Well, if the use be mine, can it concern one
Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon ?
What's property? dear Swift! you see it alter
From you to me, from me to2 Peter Waiter;
Or, in a mortgage, prove a lawyer's share,
Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir;
Or in pure 3 Equity (the case not clear)



The chanc'ry takes your rents for twenty year:
At best it falls to some 4 ungracious son,

Who cries, "My father's damn'd, and all's my own."
5 Shades that to Bacon could retreat afford,
Become the portion of a booby lord;

And Hemsley, once proud Buckingham's delight,
Slides to a scriv'ner, or a city knight.

6 Let lands and houses have what lords they will,
Let us be be fix'd, and our own masters still.



Nam propriæ telluris herum natura, neque illum,
Nec me, nec quemquam statuit: nos expulit ille;
Illum aut 2 nequities, aut 3 vafri inscitia juris,
Postremo expellet certe 4 vivacior hæres.

5 Nunc ager Umbreni sub nomine, nuper Ofelli
Dictus, erit nulli proprius; sed cedet in usum
Nunc mihi, nunc alii. 6 quocirca vivite fortes;
Fortiaque adversis opponite pectora rebus.

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