"Ah Doctor, how you love to jest? Tis now no fecret---I protest Tis one to me--" Then tell us, pray, "When are the Troops to have their pay? 120And, tho' I folemnly declare I know no more than my Lord Mayor, They stand amaz'd, and think me grown THUS in a fea of folly tofs'd, Oh, could I fee my Country Seat! And there in sweet oblivion drown Thofe Cares that haunt the Court and Town. O charming Noons! and Nights divine! NOTES. 125, 130 VER. 125. Thus in a fea, etc.] Our Poet excells his friend in his own way of modernizing Horace. But this way is infi itely inferior to his own. For tho' Horace be eafy, e is not famíliar; or, if he be, it is the familiarityf Courts, which is never without its dignity. Thefe things butlefque verfe cannot reconcile, nor indeed any other, that I know of, but that in the foregoing imitations. Legibus infanis feu quis capit acria fortis Nec male necne Lepos faltet: fed quod magis ad nos Pertinet, et nefcire malum eft, agitamus; utrumne Quidve ad amicitias, ufus rectumne, trahat nos: Accepiffe cavo, veterem vetus hofpes amicum; 135 My Friends above, my Folks below, Chatting and laughing all-a-row, The Beans and Bacon fet before 'em, Which is the happier, or the wifer, A man of Merit, or a Miser? Whether we ought to chufe our Friends, 150 What good, or better, we may call, And what, the very beft of all? Our Friend Dan Prior, told (you know) A Tale extremely à propos : Name a Town Life, and in a trice, 355 Afper, et attentus quaefitis; ut tamen arctum Solveret hofpitiis animum. quid multa ? neque ille Sepofiti ciceris, nec-longae invidit avenae : Praerupti nemoris patientem vivere dorfo ? Receiv'd a Town Moufe at his Board, Juft as a Farmer might a Lord. A frugal Mouse upon the whole, Yet lov'd his Friend, and had a Soul, Knew what was handsome, and would do't, On juft occafion, coute qui coute. He brought him Bacon (nothing lean) Pudding, that might have pleas'd a Dean; Yet, to his Guest tho' no way sparing, He eat himself the rind and paring. 160 165 170 Our Courtier scarce could touch a bit, And cry'd, "I vow you're mighty neat. "But Lord, my Friend, this favage Scene! 175 "For God's fake, come, and live with Men: "Confider, Mice, like Men, must die, "Both small and great, both you and I: "Then spend your life in Joy and Sport, "(This doctrine, Friend, I learnt at Court.) 180 The verieft Hermit in the Nation May yield, God knows, to ftrong temptation. |