Laft Friday night, as neighbours use,
This couple met to talk of news :
For by old proverbs it appears,

That walls have tongues, and hedges ears.

MARBLE-HILL.

Quoth Marble-hill, right well I ween, Your mistress now is grown a queen : You'll find it foon by woeful proof;

She 'll come no more beneath

your

RICHMOND-LODGE.

roof.

The kingly prophet well evinces, That we should put no trust in princes :My royal mafter promis'd me

To raise me to a high degree;

But now he's grown a king, God wot,
I fear I fhall be foon forgot.

You fee, when folks have got their ends,
How quickly they neglect their friends ;
Yet I may fay, 'twixt me and you,

Pray God, they now may

find as true!

MARBLE-HILL.

My house was built but for a show,

My lady's empty pockets know;
And now she will not have a fhilling,
To raise the stairs, or build the cieling;
For all the courtly madams round
Now pay four fhillings in the pound :
'Tis come to what I always thought:
My dame is hardly worth a groat.

Had

Had

you and I been courtiers born,

We should not thus have lain forlorn :
For those we dextrous courtiers call,
Can rise upon their masters' fall.
But we, unlucky and unwife,
Muft fall because our masters rise.

RICHMOND-LODGE.

My mafter, scarce a fortnight fince,
Was grown as wealthy as a prince;
But now it will be no fuch thing,
For he 'll be poor as any king:
And by his crown will nothing get,
But like a king to run in debt.

MARBLE-HILL.

No more the Dean, that grave divine,
Shall keep the key of my no-wine;
My ice-house rob, as heretofore,
And steal my artichokes no more;
Poor Patty Blount no more be seen
Bedraggled in my walks so green :
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope;
And here no more will dangle Pope.

RICHMOND-LODGE.

Here wont the Dean, when he 's to feek,

To fpunge a breakfast once a week;
To cry the bread was ftale, and mutter
Complaints against the royal butter.
But now I fear it will be faid,
No butter sticks upon his bread.

We

We foon fhall find him full of spleen,

For want of tattling to the queen;
Stunning her royal ears with talking
His reverence and her highness walking 1
Whilft lady Charlotte, like a stroller,
Sits mounted on the garden-roller.
A goodly fight to fee her ride
With ancient Mirmont 4 at her fide.
In velvet cap his head lies warm;
His hat for fhow beneath his arm.

MARBLE-HILL.

Some South-Sea broker from the city
Will purchase me, the more 's the pity
Lay all my fine plantations wafle

To fit them to his vulgar tafle;
Chang'd for the worse in every part,
My mafter Pope will break his heart,

RICHMOND LODGE.

In my own Thames may 1 be drownded,
If e'er I ftoop beneath a crown'd-head 1
Except her majefty prevails

To place me with the prince of Wales,
And then I fhall be free from fears,
For he 'll be prince thefe fifty years.
I then will turn a courtier too,
And ferve the times, as others do.

Lady Charlotte de Rouffy, a French lady,

↑ Marquis de Mirmont, a French man of quality.

44

Plain lo

I leave t

None lo

Yet none

Then
In fumm

Prefer ou
To Kenf
Nor fhall

For 'tis te

My grove

Have taug
We garde
Affift all

Him twic
To rattle

An idle ro

In tippling
And I can
Three tim

ty, not built on hope, Our contriver, Pope :

his king and country as ever lefs their deb MARBLE-HILL.

him come and take a on my verdant lap : illas, where the Th ton, or hot St. Jame dull in filence fit; xne he owes his wit; my echoes, and my 1,

t

him his poetic word.

and you wilderneti

ets in diftreffes. week I here expect,

* for neglect,

who fpends his

Zoody

ue,

ac

the Dog and partr

ardly get him dove

veek to brush my

RICHMOND-LO dear Marble-hill; you flourish still. and fo adieu.

MARBLE-HILL.

3-lodge, the fan.

The gardener.