A PANEGYRICAL EPISTLE TO MR. THOMAS SNOW, GOLDSMITH, NEAR TEMPLE BAR; Occasioned by his buying and selling the third South DISDAIN not, SNow, my humble verse to hear, The South Sea rocks and shelves, where thousands drown'd! When credit sunk, and commerce gasping lay, Thou stood'st: no bill was sent unpaid away. * In the year 1720, the South Sea company, under pretence of paying the public debt, obtained an act of parliament for enlarging their capital, by taking into it all the debts of the nation, incurred before the year 1716, amounting to 31,664,5511. Part of this sum was subscribed into their capital at three subscriptions: the first at 300l. per cent. the second at 4001. and a third at 10001. Such was the infatuation of the time, that these subscriptions were bought and sold at exorbitant premiums; so that 1007. South Sea stock, subscribed at 1000%, was sold for 12001, in Exchange alley. H. When not a guinea chink'd on Martin's* boards, Why did 'Change alley waste thy precious hours Who live on fancy, and can feed on air; No wonder, they were caught by South Sea schemes, No wonder that their faucies wild can frame Let vulture Hopkins stretch bis rusty throat, I know thou scorn'st his mean, his sordid mind; If to instruct thee all my reasons fail, Yet be diverted by this moral tale. Through fam'd Moorfields extends a spacious seat, Where mortals of exalted wit retreat; Where, wrapt in contemplation and in straw, * Names of eminent goldsmiths. H. His sideboard glitter'd with imagin'd plate, As on a time he pass'd the vacant hours The banker's brain was cool'd: the mist grew clear; He now the vanish'd prospect understood, * Charles II, having borrowed a considerable sum, gave tallies, as a security for the repayment; but, soon after shutting up the Exchequer, these tallies were as much reduced from their original value, as. the South Sea had exceeded it. H. A BALLAD ON QUADRILLE.* WRITTEN BY MR. CONGREVE. I. WHEN, as Corruption hence did go, When Av said Ay, and No said No, Then Satan, thinking things went ill, Sent forth his spirit, call'd Quadrille, Quadrille, Quadrille, &c. II. Kings, queens, and knaves made up his pack, And four fair suits he wore: His troops they are with red and black All blotch'd and spotted o'er : And ev'ry house go where you will, III. Sure cards he has for ev'ry thing, Which well court-cards they name : And, statesmen like, calls in the king, But, if the parties manage ill, The king is forc'd to loose Codille, &c. IV. When two and two were met of old, Though they ne'er meant to marry, *On the subject of this ballad, see a letter from Dr. Arbuthnot te Dean Swift, dated Nov. 8, 1726. N. They were in Cupid's books enroll'd, And call'd a party quarree: But now, meet when and where you will, A party quarree is Quadrille, &c. The commoner, and knight, the peer, Leave to their wives the only care, To propagate their name; And well that duty they fulfil, When the good husband's at Quadrille, &c. VI. When patients lie in piteous case, In comes th' apothecary; And to the doctor cries, alas ! Non debes quadrillare. The patient dies without a pill, For why? the doctor's at Quadrille, &c. VII. Should France and Spain again grow loud, Britain, to curb her neighbours proud, Must want both sword and gun to kill; VIII. The king of late drew forth his sword What are their feats of arms and skill? They're but nine parties at Quadrille, &c. |