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"She forbids your preferment; I grant her defire.
Appeafe the fair Goddess: you then may rife higher."
The next that appear'd had good hopes of fucceeding,
For he merited much for his wit and his breeding.
'Twas wife in the Britons no favour to fhow him,
He elfe might expect they should pay what they owe him.
And therefore they prudently chofe to discard
The Patriot, whofe merits they would not reward.
The God, with a fmile, bad his favourite advance,
"You were fent by Aftræa her Envoy to France:
"You bent your ambition to rife in the state;
"I refufe you, because you could ftoop to be great."
Then a Bard who had been a fuccefsful Tranflator.
"The Convention allows me a Verfificator."

Says Apollo, "You mention the leaft of your merit;
"By your works it appears you have much of my

"I esteem you fo well, that, to tell

you the truth,
"The greatest objection against you your youth :
"Then be not concern'd you are now laid afide;
"If you live, you fhall certainly one day prefide."
Another, low bending, Apollo thus greets,
"Twas I taught your fubjects to walk through the

"You taught them to walk! why, they knew it before:
"But give me the Bard that can teach them to foar.
"Whenever he claims, 'tis his right, I'll confefs,
"Who lately attempted my ftyle with fuccefs;
"Who writes like Apollo has moft of his fpirit,
"And therefore 'tis juft I diftinguish his merit;



"Who makes it appear, by all he has writ,
"His judgement alone can fet bounds to his wit;
"Like Virgil correct, with his own native ease,
"But excels even Virgil in elegant praise;

“Who admires the ancients, and knows 'tis their due, "Yet writes in a manner entirely new ;

"Though none with more ease their depths can explore, "Yet whatever he wants he takes from my ftore; “Though I'm fond of his virtues, his pride I can see, "In fcorning to borrow from any but me;

"It is owing to this, that, like Cynthia, his lays


Enlighten the world by reflecting my rays.”

This faid, the whole audience foon found out his drift: The convention was fummon'd in favour of Swift.

The RUN upon the BANKERS. 1720.


HE bold encroachers on the deep
Gain by degrees huge tracts of land,
Till Neptune, with one general fweep,
Turns all again to barren ftrand.
The multitude's capricious pranks
Are faid to represent the feas;
Which, breaking bankers and the banks,
Refume their own whene'er they pleafe.

Money, the life-blood of the nation,
Corrupts and stagnates in the veins,
Unless a proper circulation

Its motion and its heat maintains.


Becaufe 'tis lordly not to pay,
Quakers and aldermen in state
Like peers have levees every day
Of duns attending at their gate.
We want our money on the nail,
The banker 's ruin'd if he pays :
"They feem to act an ancient tale;
The birds are met to ftrip the jays.
Riches, the wifeft monarch fings,

"Make pinions for themselves to fly :"
They fly like bats on parchment wings,
And geefe their filver plumes fupply.
No money left for fquandering heirs!
Bills turn the lenders into debtors:
The with of Nero now is theirs,

"That they had never known their letters.”

Conceive the works of midnight hags,
Tormenting fools behind their backs:
Thus bankers o'er their bills and bags
Sit fqueezing images of wax.

Conceive the whole enchantment broke ;
The witches left in open air,
With power no more than other folk,
Expos'd with all their magic ware.

So powerful are a banker's bills,

Where creditors demand their due; They break up counters, doors, and tills, And leave the empty chefts in view.


Thus when an earthquake lets in light
Upon the god of gold and bell,
Unable to endure the fight,

He hides within his darkest cell.

As when a conjurer takes a lease
From Satan for a term of years,
The tenant's in a dismal case,
Whene'er the bloody bond appears.

A baited banker thus defponds,

From his own hand forefees his fall; They have his foul, who have his bonds; 'Tis like the writing on the wall.

How will the caitiff wretch be fcar'd,
When first he finds himself awake

At the laft trumpet unprepar'd,

And all his grand account to make !

For in that univerfal call

Few bankers will to Heaven be mounters;
They'll cry, "Ye'fhops, upon us fall!
"Conceal and cover us, ye counters !"

When other hands the scales fhall hold,
And they in men and angels' fight
-Produc'd with all their bills and gold,
"Weigh'd in the balance, and found light!"


The DESCRIPTION of an IRISH FEAST, Tranflated almost literally out of the Original Irish. 1720.

ROURK'S noble fare will ne'er be forgot,


By those who were there, or those who were not. His revels to keep, we fup and we dine

On seven score fheep, fat bullocks, and fwine.
Ufquebaugh to our feast in pails was brought up,
An hundred at least, and a madder * our cup..
O there is the fport! we rife with the light
In diforderly fort from fnoaring all night.
O how was I trick'd! my pipe it was broke,
My pocket was pick'd, I loft my new cloak.
I'm rifled, quoth Nell, of mantle and kercher + :
Why then fare them well, the de'el take the fearcher.
Comé, harper, ftrike up; but, first, by your favour,
Boy, give us a cup: ah! this has fome favour.
Orourk's jolly boys ne'er dreamt of the matter,
Till, rous'd by the noife and mufical clatter,
They bounce from their neft, no longer will tarry,
They rife ready dreft, without one ave-mary.
They dance in a round, cutting capers and ramping;
A mercy the ground did not burst with their stamping.
The floor is all wet with leaps and with jumps,
While the water and sweat splish-splash in their pumps.
Bless you late and early, Laughlin O Enagin!
By my hand, you dance rarely, Margery Grinagin.
Bring ftraw for our bed, fhake it down to the feet,
Then over us fpread the winnowing sheet:

* A wooden vessel. + Handkerchief. An Irish oath.


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