A FAREWELL TO LONDON

IN THE YEAR 1715.

DEAR, damn'd, diftracting town, farewell!

Thy fools no more I'll teize:

This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,
Ye harlots, fleep at ease!

May knock up whores alone.

To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd

Till the third watchman toll;
Let Jervais gratis paint, and Frowde
Save three-pence and his foul.

Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery
On every learned fot;

And Garth, the best good christian he,

Although he knows it not.

Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;

Farewel, unhappy Tonfon!

Heaven gives thee, for thy loss of Rowe,
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.

Why should I stay? Both parties rage;
My vixen mistress squalls;

The wits in envious feuds engage;
And Homer (damn him!) calls.

The love of arts lies cold and dead

In Halifax's urn;

And not one Muse of all he fed,

Has yet the grace to mourn.

My friends, by turns, my friends confound, Betray, and are betray'd:

Poor Y - r's fold for fifty pound,

And B

ll is a jade.

Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour feek?

Or follow girls seven hours in eight? —
I need but once a week.

Still idle, with a busy air,
Deep whimsies to contrive;
The gayeft valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake alive.

Solicitous for others ends,

Though fond of dear repofe;
Careless or drowsy with my friends,
And frolick with my foes.

Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,
For fober, ftudious days!
And Burlington's delicious meal,
For fallads, tarts, and pease!

Adieu to all but Gay alone,

Whose foul, fincere and free,

Loves all mankind, but flatters none,

And fo may starve with me.

DIALOGUE.

A

IN CE my old friend is

grown fo

great,

POPE. ST
SIN

As to be minister of state,
I'm told (but 'tis not true I hope)
That Craggs will be asham'd of Pope.

CRAGGS. Alas! if I am fuch a creature,

To grow the worse for growing greater;
Why faith, in fpite of all my brags,
'Tis Pope must be asham'd of Craggs.

EPIGRAM.

Engraved on the Collar of a Dog, which I

Royal Highness.

I

Am his Highness' dog at Kew;

Pray tell me, Sir, whose dog are you?

EPIGRAM.

Occafioned by an Invitation to Court.

IN the lines that you fent, are the Mufes and Graces; You've the Nine in your wit, and the Three in your

faces.

A FRAG

1

A FRAGMENT.

WHAT are the falling rills, the pendant fhades,

The morning bowers, the evening colonnades,

But foft receffes for th' uneafy mind

To figh unheard in, to the paffing wind!
So the ftruck deer, in fome fequefter'd part,
Lies down to die (the arrow in his heart)
There hid in shades, and wasting day by day,
Inly he bleeds, and pants his foul away.

VERSES left by Mr. POPE, on his lying in the same
Bed which WILMOT the celebrated Earl of Rochefter
slept in, at Adderbury, then belonging to the Duke of
Argyle, July 9th, 1739.

ITH no poetic ardour fir'd

WI

I prefs the bed where Wilmot lay;
That here he lov'd, or here expir'd,

Begets no numbers grave, or gay.

But in thy roof, Argyle, are bred

Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Stretch'd out in honour's nobler bed,
Beneath a nobler roof-the sky.

Such flames as high in patriots burn,

Yet ftoop to bless a child or wife ;
And fuch as wicked kings may mourn,
When freedom is more dear than life.

CON

36

40

WINTER, the fourth Pastoral,

MESSIAH, a Sacred Eclogue in imitation of Virgil's

Pollio,

WINDSOR-FOREST,

Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,

Two Choruses to the Tragedy of Brutus,

Ode on Solitude,

The Rape of the Lock,

JANUARY.

Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady,

Prologue to Mr. Addison's Tragedy of Cato,

Epilogue to Jane Shore,

SAPPHO to PHAON, an Epistle from Ovid,

ELOISA to ABELARD, an Epistle,

The TEMPLE of FAME,