« AnteriorContinuar »
Our Youth all livery'd o'er with foreign gold,
Yet may thịs Verse (if such a Verse remain). Show, there was one who held it in disdain.
*.'T'S. Not yetmy Friend I to morrow
IS all a Libel-Paxton (Sir) will fay.
Friend ! to morrow
F. Yet none but you by Name the guilty lash;
* The Ordinary of Newgate, who publishes the Memoirs of the Malefactors.
Spare then the Person, and expose the Vice.
P. How Sir! not damn the Sharper, but the Dice? Come on then Satire ! gen'ral, unconfind, Spread thy broad wing, and sowze on all the kind. 15 Ye Statesmen, Priests, of one Religion all ! Ye Tradesmen vile, in Army, Court, or Hall ! Ye Rev'rend Atheists ! F. Scandal ! name them, Who?
P. Why that's the thing you bid me not to do. Who starv'd a Sister, who forswore a Debt, I never nam'd; the Town's enquiring yet. The pois’ning Dame-F.You mcan- P.I don't. F. You do.
P. See, now I keep the Secret, and not you. The bribing Statesman-F. Hold! too high you go.
P. The brib'd Elector. There you stoop too low.
P. I fain wou'd please you, if I knew with what; Teli
me, which Knave is lawful Game, which not? Must
great Offenders, once escap'd the Crown, Like Royal Harts, be never more run down? Admit your Law to spare the Knight requires ; 30 As Beasts of Nature may we hunt the Squires ? Sụppose I censure -you know what I To save a Bishop, may I name a Dean?
F. A Dean, Sir ? no : his Fortune is not made, You hurt a man that's rising in the Trade.
35 P. If not the Tradesman who set up to day, Much less the 'Prentice who to morrow may. Down, down, proud Satire! tho'a Land be spoild, Arraign no mightier Thief than wretched * Wild,
* Jonathan Wild
Or if a Court or Country's made a job,
But, Sir, I beg you, for the Love of Vice !
poor and friendless Villain, than the Great ? 45
50 May pinch ev’n there — why lay it on a King.
F. Stop ! stop! · P. Must Satire, then, nor rise nor fall ? Speak out, and bid-me blame no Rogues at all.
F. Yes, strike that Wild, I'll justify the blow.
P. Strike? why the man was hang'd ten years ago:
F. What always Peter ? Peter thinks
hence - 6 P. As S-k, if he lives, will love the PRINCE. F. Strange spleen to S-k!
P. Do I wrong the Man? God knows, I praise à Courtier where I can. When I confess, there is who feels for Fame, And melts to Goodness, need I SCARB'r ow name? 65
Pleas’d let me own, in * Ether's peaceful Grove
But does the Court a worthy Man remove? That instant, I declare, he has my Love: 75 I shún his Zenith, court his mild Decline ; Thus SOMMERs once, and Halifax, were mine : Oft in the clear, ftill Mirrour of Retreat, I study'd SHR EWSBURY, the wise and great : Carleton's calm Sense, and STANHOPE's nobleFlame Compar'd, and knew their gen'rous End the fame: How pleasing ATTERBUR Y's softer hour! How find the Soul, unconquer'd in the Tow's! How can I PULT'NEY, CHESTERFIELD forget ? While Roman spirit charms, and Attic Wit: 85 ARGYLE, the State's whole Thunder born to wield, And shake alike the Senate and the Field : Or WYNDHAM, just to Freedom and the Throne, The Master of our Passions, and his own. Names which I long have lov’d, nor lov'd in vain, go Rank'd with their friends, not number'd with their And if yet higher the proud List should end, [Train ; Still let me say ! No Follow'r, but a Friend.
* The House and Gardens of Elher in Surrey, deligr’d by Mr. Kent.