Page images

For hung with deadly fins I fee the wall,
And lin❜d with giants deadlier than 'em all: 275
Each man an Afkapart, of strength to tofs
For quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-crofs.
Scar'd at the grizly forms, I fweat, I fly,
And thake all o'er, like a discover'd spy."


Courts are too much for wits fo weak as mine: Charge them with heav'n's artill'ry, bold divine ! From fuch alone the great rebukes endure, Whose fatire's facred, and whose rage fecure : 'Tis mine to wash a few light ftains, but theirs To deluge fin, and drown a court in tears. Howe'er what's now Apocrypha, my Wit, In time to come, may pass for Holy Writ.


Tir'd, now I leave this place, and but pleas'd fo As men from gaols to execution go,

Go, through the great chamber (why is it hung
With the feven deadly fins?) being among
Thofe Ajkaparts *, men big enough to throw
Charing-crofs for a bar, men that do know
No token of worth, but queens man, and fine
Living; barrels of beef, flaggons of wine.
I hook like a spied Spie----preachers which are
Seas of wit and arts, you can, then dare,
Drown the fins of this place, but as for me
Which am but a fcant brook, enough hall be
To wash the ftains away; Although I yet
(With Maccabees modefty) the known merit
Of my work leffen, yet fome wife men fhall,
I hope, esteem my writs canonical.


* A giant famous in romances.

Ver. 274. For bung with deadly fins] The room hun with old tapestry, reprefenting the feven deadly fins.






Written in M DCC XXXVIII.



OT twice a twelvemonth you appear in print,

And when it comes, the court fee nothing in't.


Ver. 1. Not twice a twelvemonth, &c.] Thefe two lines are from Horace; and the only lines that are fo in the whole poem; being meant to give a handle to that which follows in the character of an impertinent cenfurer.

'Tis all from Horace; etc.


After ver. 2. in the MS.

You don't, I hope, pretend to quit the trade,
Because you think your reputation made:
Like good ** of whom fo much was faid,
That when his name was up, he lay abed.
Come, come, refresh us with a livelier fong,
Or like you'll lie abed too long.
P. Sir, what I write, fhould be correctly writ,
F. Correct! 'tis what no genius can admit.
Befides, you grow too moral for a wit.

O 2



You grow correct, that once with rapture writ,
And are, befides, too moral for a wit.
Decay of parts, alas! we all must feel---
Why now, this moment, don't I fee you fteal?
'Tis all from Horace; Horace long before ye
Said, "Tories call'd him Whig, and Whigs a Tory;"
And taught his Romans, in much better metre,
"To laugh at fools who put their truft in Peter." 10
But Horace, Sir, was delicate, was nice;
Bubo obferves, he lafh'd no fort of vice:
Horace would fay, Sir Billy ferv'd the Crown,
Blunt could do bus'nefs, H-ggins knew the town;
In Sappho touch the failings of the fex,
In rev'rend bishops note fome small neglects,
And own, the Spaniard did a waggish thing,
Who cropt our ears, and fent them to the king.
His fly, polite, infinuating style


Could please at court, and make AUGUSTUS fmile: An artful manager, that crept between

His friend and shame, and was a kind of screen.



Ver. 12. Bubo obferves,] Some guilty perfon very fond of making fuch an obfervation.

Ver. 14. H-ggins] Formerly jailor of the Fleet-prifon, enriched himself by many exactions, for which he was tried and expelled.

Ver. 18. Who cropt our ears] Said to be executed by the captain of a Spanish ship on one Jenkins a captain of an Englith one. He cut of his ears, and bid him carry them to the King his master.

Ver. 22. Screen.]

"Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico


Tangit, et admiffus circum præcordia ludit." PERS. Ibid. Screen.] A metaphor peculiarly appropriated to a ertain perfon in power.


« EelmineJätka »