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Why had not I in those good times my birth, 'Ere coxcomb-pyes or coxcombs were on earth?

Unworthy he, the voice of Fame to hear, 105 m 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, fresh sturgeon and ham-pye Are no rewards for want, and infamy! When Luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf, Curs'd be thy neighbours, thy trustees, thyself, To friends, to fortune, to mankind a shame, Think how pofterity will treat thy name ; And P buy a rope, that future times may tell 115 Thou haft at least bestow'd one penny well.

9.“ Right, cries his Lordship, for a rogue in need 66 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, 121 And Ihine that superfuity away. Oh Impudence of wealth! with all thy store, How dar'ft thou let one worthy man be poor? Shall half the new-built churches round thee fall? Make Keys, build Bridges, or repair White-hall: Or to thy Country let that heap be lent, As M**o's was, but not at five per cent.

Notes. preceding morality. Horace was very serious, and properly so, when he said,

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O magnus posthac inimicis risus ! uterne u Ad casus dubios fidet fibi certius ? hic, qui Pluribus afsuerit mentem corpusque fuperbum; An qui contentus parvo metuensque futuri, In pace, ut sapiens, aptarit idonea bello? v Quo magis his credas: puer hunc ego parvus

Ofellum Integris opibus novi non latius ufum, Quam nunc W accisis. Videas, metato in agello, Cum pecore et gratis, fortem mercede colonum, Non ego, narrantem, temere edi luce profesta Quidquam, praeter * olus fumosae cum pede pernae. Ac mihi seu y longum post tempus venerat hofpes, Sive operum vacuo gratus conviva per imbrem Vicinus; bene erat, non piscibus urbe petitis, Sed pullo atque hoedo: tum penfilis uva fecundas

Notes.

cur, Improbe! carae Non aliquid patriae tanto emetiris acervo. He remembered, and hints with juft indignation, at those luxurious Patricians of his old party ; who, when they had agreed to eitablish a fund in the cause of Freedom, under the conduct of Brutus, could never be persuaded to with. draw from their expensive pleasures what was sufficient for the support of so great a cause. He had prepared his Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind, Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. 130 And " who stands fafest ? tell me, is it he That spreads and swells in puff’d Prosperity, Or bleft with little, whose preventing care In peace provides fit arms against a war ? Thus Bethel spoke, who always speaks his thought,

135 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 w Excis'd; 140 In forest planted by a Father's hand, Than in five acres now of rented land. Content with little, I can piddle here On * brocoli and mutton, round the year; But y ancient friends (tho' poor, or out of play) That touch my bell, I cannot turn away. 'Tis true, no 2 Turbots dignify my boards, But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords:

NOTES. apology for this liberty, in the preceding line, where he pays a fine compliment to Auguftus :

quare Templa ruunt antiqua Deúm ? : which oblique Panegyric the Imitator has very properly turned into a just stroke of satire.

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Et nux ornabat menfas, cum duplice ficu.

Poft hoc ludus erat cuppa potare magistra :

Ac venerata Ceres, ita culmo furgeret alto,

Explicuit vino contractae seria frontis,

Saeviat atque novos moveat Fortuna tumultus !

Quantum hinc imminuet ? quanto aut ego parcius,

aut vos,

O pueri, nituistis, ut huc e novus incola venit?

Notes.

VER. 156. And, what's more rare, a Poet fall fay Grace ] The pleasantry of this line consists in the supposed rarity of a Poet's having a table of his own ; or a sense of gratitude for the blessings he receives. But it contains,

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To Hounslow-heath I point and Banfted-down, Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my

150 - From yon old walnut-tree a show'r shall fall; And grapes, long ling‘ring on my only wall, And figs from standard and espalier join ; The dev'l is in you if you cannot dine: Then chearful healths (your Miftress shall have place) And, what's more rare, a Poet shall say Grace. 156

Fortune not much of humbling me can boast; Tho' double tax'd, how little have I loft? My Life's amusements have been just the same, Before, and after Standing Armies came. 160 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-opening gate None comes too early, none departs too late ; (For I, who hold fage Homer's rule the best,

165 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: " Pity! to build, without a son or wife: “ Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life.” 170 Well, if the use be mine, can it concern one, Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon?

Notes. too, a sober reproof of People of Condition, for their unmanly and brutal disuse of lo natural a duty.

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