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15

Of fize that might a pulpit fill,
But more inclining to fit still.
My lord (who, if a man may say't,
Loves mifchief better than his meat)
Was now dispos'd to crack a jest,
And bid friend Lewis * go in quest,
(This Lewis is a cunning shaver,
And very much in Harley's favour)
In quest, who might this parfon be,
What was his name, of what degree, 20
If possible, to learn his story,
And whether he were whig or tory.

Lewis his patron's humour knows,

Away upon his errand goes,
And quickly did the matter fift;
Found out that it was doctor Swift;
A clergyman of special note

For shunning those of his own coat;

Γ

Which made his brethren of the gown

25

Take care betimes to run him down: 30

15. Demetri, (puer bic non leve jussa Philippi Accipiebat) abi, quære, et refer: Unde domo, quis, Cujus fortune, quo fit patre, quove patrono ? 23, 25. It, redit, et narrat, Votteium nomine Menam.

* Erasmus Lewis, esq; private secretary to the earl of Oxford.

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No libertine, nor over-nice,

Addicted to no fort of vice,

Went were he pleas'd, said what he thought, Not rich, but ow'd no man a groat :

In state opinions à la mode,

* He hated Wharton like a toad,

Had giv'n the faction many a wound,

And libell'd all the junto round;

Kept company with men of wit,
Who often father'd what he writ :
His works were hawk'd in every street,
But feldom rose above a sheet :

35

40

Of late indeed the paper stamp
Did very much his genius cramp;
And, fince he could not spend his fire, 45
He now intended to retire.

Said Harley, I defire to know
From his own mouth, if this be so?
Step to the doctor strait, and say,
I'd have him dine with me to day.

-

31. Tenui cenfu, fine crimine notum,

50 55

Et properare loco, et ceffare, et quærere, et uti,
Gaudentem

47. Scitari libet ex ipfo quodcunque refers. Dic

Ad cœnam veniat. Non fane credere Mena,

Mirari fecum tacitus.

* Earl of Wharton, father to the duke of Wharton who

died in France.

Swift seem'd to wonder what he meant,
Nor wou'd believe my lord had fent;
So never offer'd once to stir;
But coldly faid, your fervant, fir.
Does he refuse me? Harley cry'd:
He does, with insolence and pride.
Some few days after Harley spies
The doctor fasten'd by the eyes
At Charing-cross among the rout,
Where painted monsters are hung out: 60
He pull'd the string, and stopt his coach,
Beck'ning the doctor to approach.

Swift, who cou'd neither fly nor hide,
Came sneaking to the chariot side,
And offer'd many a lame excuse : 65
He never meant the least abuse ---
My lord----the honour you defign'd----
Extremely proud----but I had din'd----
I'm sure I never shou'd neglect----

No man alive has more respect---

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"Well,

75

"Well, I shall think of that no more,
" If you'll be fure to come at four."
The doctor now obeys the summons,
Likes both his company and commons;
Displays his talent, fits till ten;
Next day invited comes again;
Soon grows domeftick; feldom fails
Either at morning, or at meals;
Came early, and departed late:
In short, the gudgeon took the bait. 80
My lord would carry on the jest,
And down to Windfor takes his guest.
Swift much admires the place and air,
And longs to be a canon there ;
In fummer round the park to ride, 85
In winter, never to refide.
A canon ! that's a place too mean ;

No, doctor, you shall be a dean ;

71.

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Sic ignoviffe putato

Me tibi, fi cænas hodie mecum. Ut libet. Ergo
Post nonam venies

74. Ut ventum ad cænam est, dicenda, tacenda locutus,
Tandem dormitum dimittitur. Hic ubi fæpe
Occultum vifus decurrere pifcis ad hamum,
Mane cliens, et jam certus conviva:----

81.

87.

- Jubetur

Rura fuburbana indictis comes. ire Latinis.
Impofitus mannis, arvum cælumque Sabinum
Non ceffat laudare.

-Videt, ridetque Philippus:

Two 90

Two dozen canons round your stall,
And you the tyrant o'er them all :
You need but cross the Irish feas
To live in plenty, pow'r, and eafe.
Poor Swift departs; and, what is worse,
With borrow'd money in his purse;
Travels at least an hundred leagues, 95
And fuffers numberless fatigues.

100

Suppose him now a dean compleat, Devoutly lolling in his feat; The silver virge, with decent pride, Stuck underneath his cushion fide: Suppose him gone thro' all vexations, Patents, instalments, abjurations, First-fruits and tenths and chapter-treats, Dues, payments, fees, demands, and--cheats (The wicked laity's contriving To hinder clergymen from thriving) Now all the doctor's money's spent, His tenants wrong him in his rent; The farmers spitefully combin'd Force him to take his tythes in kind; 110 And * Parvifol discounts arrears By bills for taxes and repairs t.

E 3

107.--Oves furto, morbo periere capella; Spem mentita feges, bos est enectus arando;

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Poor

" land to take poffeffion of his "deanery, the common people "were taught to look upon him

"as

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