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The love of politicks fo vulgar's grown,
My landlord's party from his fign is known:
Mark of French wine, see Ormond's head appear,
While Marlb'rough's face directs to beer and beer;
Some Buchanan's, the Pope's head some like beft,
The Devil tavern is a standing jest.

• Whoe'er you are that have a feat secure,
Duly return'd, and from petition sure,
Stick to your friends in whatsoe'er you say ;
With strong averfion fhun the middle-way;
The middle-way the best we sometimes call,
But 'tis in politicks no way at all.
A Trimmer's what both parties turn to sport,
By country hated, and defpis'd at court.
Who would in earnest to a party come,
Muft give his vote not whimsical, but plumb.
There is no medium; for the term in vogue,
On either side is, honest man, or rogue.
Can it be difficult our minds to thew,
Where all the difference is, yes, or no ?

Hæc amat obfcurum, volet hæc fub luce videri ;

Hæc placuit femel, hæc decies repetita placebit.
* O major juvenum

hoc tibi ditum
Tolle memor, certis medium & tolerabile rebus
Reéte concedi

-Mediocribus efle Poëtis
Non homines, non Dii, non conceffére columna,
Sic animis natum inventumque Poëma juvandis
Si paulum a fummo deceffit, vergit ad imum.

In

In all professions, time and pains give skill;
Without hard study dare physicians kill ?
Can he that ne'er read ftatutes or reports,
Give chamber counsel, or urge law in courts ?
But ev'ry whipster knows affairs of state,
Nor fears on nicest subjects to debate.
A knight of eighteen hundred pounds a year-
Who minds his head, if his estate be clear ?
Sure he may speak his mind, and tell the house,
He matters not the government a louse.
Lack-learning knights, these things are safely said
To friends in private, at the Bedford-head;
But in the house, before your tongue runs on,
Confult fir James, lord William's dead and gone.
Words to recall is in no member's power,
One single word may send you to the Tower.

• The wrong'd to help, the lawless to restrain,
Thrice ev'ry year in ancient Egbert's reign,
Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abftinet armis :
Indoctusque pile, discive, trochive, quiescit,
Ne spisæ rifum tollant impunè coronæ ;
Qui nescit, versus tamen audet fingere. -

Quid ni?
Liber & ingenuus præfertim cenfus equeftrem
Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni.
Membranis intus pofitis, delere licebit
Quod non edideris : nescit vox misa reverti.
Sylvestres homines facer interpresque Deorum
Cædibus & vi&tu fædo deterruit Orpheus.

Fuit hæc fapientia quondam,
Publica privatis fecernere, facra profanis :

The

The members to the Mitchelgemot went,
In after-ages called the Parliament;
Early the Mitchelgemot did begin
T'inroll their statutes on a parchment skin :
For impious treason hence no room was left,
For murder, for polygamy, or theft :
Since when the senate's power both sexes know
From hops and claret, soap and callico.
Now wholsome laws young fenators bring in
'Gainst goals, attorneys, bribery, and gin.
Since such the nature of the British state,
The power of parliament fo old and great,
Ye 'squires and Irish lords, 'tis worth your care
To be return'd for city, town, or thire,
By sheriff, bailiff, conftable, or mayor.

• Some doubt, which to a feat has best pretence,
A man of substance, or a man of sense :
But never any member feats will do,
Without a head-piece and a pocket too;

}

Concubitu prohibere vago, dare jura maritis ;
Oppida moliri, leges incidere ligno.

Diste per carmina fortes,
Et vitæ monstrata via eft, & gratia regum
Pieriis tentata modis : ludufque repertus
Et longorum operum finis :

ne forte pudori
Sit tibi Mufa lyra folers, & cantor Apollo.
Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte,
Quæfitum eft ; ego nec fludium fine divite vena,

Sense

d

2

Sense is requir'd the depth of things to reach,
And money gives authority to speech.

• A man of bus’ness won't till ev’ning dine,
Abftains from women, company, and wine :
From Fig's new theatre he'll miss a night,
Tho' cocks, and bulls, and Irish women fight:
Nor sultry sun, nor storms of foaking rain,
The man of bus'ness from the house detain:
Nor speaks he for no reason but to say,
I am a member, and I spoke to-day.
I speak sometimes, you'll hear his lordship cry,
Because some speak that have less fenfe than I.

f The man that has both land and money too,
May wonders in a trading borough do:
They'll praise his ven'son, and commend his port,
Turn their two former members into sport,
And, if he likes it, satirize the court.

}

e

Nec rude quid profit video ingenium : alterius fic
Altera poscit opem res, & conjurat amice.
Qui ftudet optatam curfu contingere metam,
Multa tulit fecitque puer ; fudavit & alfit,
Abftinuit venere & vina.
Nunc fatis eft dixisse, Ego mira poëmata pango :
Occupet extremum scabies, mihi turpe relinqui eft,
Et, quod non didici, Jane nescire fateri,
Afjentatores jubet ad lucrum ire Poëta,
Dives agris, dives positis in fænore nummis,
Si vero efi unetum qui recte ponere poffit,
Et spondere levi pro paupere, & eripere atris
Litibus implicitum, mirabor, fi fciet inter-

But

f

But at a feast 'tis difficult to know
From real friends an undiscover'd foe;
The man that swears he will the poll secure,
And

pawns his foul that your election's sure, Suspect that man: beware, all is not right, He's, ten to one, a corporation-bite.

& Alderman Pond, a downright honeft man,
Would fay, I cannot help you, or I can :
To fpend your money, fir, is all a jeft ;
Matters are settled, set

your

heart at reft : We've made a compromise, and, fir, you know, That fends one member high, and t'other low. But if his good advice you would not take, He'd fcorn your supper, and your punch forsake, Leave you of mighty interest to brag, And poll two voices like fir Robert Fag.

noscere mendacem

verumque

beatus amicum.
Tu feu donaris, seu quid donare voles cui,
Nolito ad versus tibi faétos ducere plenum
Lætitiæ: clamabit enim, Pulchre, bene, reste !

si carmina condes,
Nunquam te fallant animi sub vulpe latentes.
s Quintilio fi quid recitares, corrige, fodes,

Hoc, aiebat, & boc: melius te posle negares,
Bis terque expertum

fruftra, delere jubebat.
Si defendere deli&tum, quam vertere, malles,
Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam fumebat inanem,
Quin fine rivali teque & tua folus amares.

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