Long may she these her worft of foes defy,
And lift her mitred head triumphant to the sky:
While theirs-----but satire filently difdains

To name, what lives not, but in madmen's brains.
Like bawds, each lurking paftor seeks the dark,
And fears the juftice's enquiring clerk.

In clofe back-rooms his routed flocks he rallies,
And reigns the patriarch of blind lanes and allies :
There safe, he lets his thundering cenfures fly,
Unchriftens, damns us, gives our laws the lye,
And excommunicates three ftories high.
Why, fince a land of liberty they hate,
Still will they linger in this free-born ftate?
Here, every hour, fresh, hateful, objects rife,
Peace and profperity afflict their eyes ;

With anguish, prince and people they furvey,
Their juft obedience, and his righteous fway.
Ship off, ye flaves, and feek fome paffive land,
Where tyrants after your own hearts command.
To your Tranfalpine mafter's rule resort,
And fill an empty abdicated court:
Turn your poffeffions here to ready rhino,
And buy ye lands and lordships at Urbino.

}

HORACE,

HORACE, BOOK II. ODE IV. IMITATED.

THE LORD GRIFFIN TO THE EARL OF

D

SCARSDALE.

I.

O not, moft fragrant earl, difclaim
Thy bright, thy reputable flame,

To Bracegirdle the brown;

But publicly efpouse the dame,

And fay, G-- d-- the town.

II.

Full many heroes, fierce and keen,
With drabs have deeply fmitten been,
Although right good commanders;
Some who with you have Hounslow feen,
And fome who've been in Flanders.

III.

Did not base Greber's * Pegg inflame
The fober earl of Nottingham,

Of fober fire defcended?

That, careless of his foul and fame,

To play-houses he nightly came,
And left church undefended.

IV.

The monarch who of France is hight,

Who rules the roaft with matchlefs might,

Since William went to heaven

Loves Maintenon, his lady bright,

Who was but Scarron's leaving.

D 4

Though

an

*Signora Francefco Marguareta de l'Epine,

Italian fongftrefs.

V.

Though thy dear's father kept an inn
At grifly head of Saracen,

For carriers at Northampton;
Yet the might come of gentler kin,
Than e'er that father dreamt on.

VI.

Of proffers large her choice had fhe,.
Of jewels, plate, and land in fee,
Which the with fcorn rejected:
And can a nymph fo virtuous be
Of bafe-born blood fufpected?
'VII.

Her dimple check, and roguish eye,
Her flender wafte, and taper thigh,
I always thought provoking;.
But, faith, though I talk waggishly,
I mean no more than joking.
VIII.

Then be not jealous, friend: for why?
My lady marchionefs is nigh,

To fee I ne'er should hurt ye;.
Befides, you know full well that I

Am turn'd of five-and-forty.

THE

THE RECONCILEMENT BETWEEN JACOB TONSON AND MR. CONGREVE.

AN IMITATION OF HORACE, BOOK III. ODE IX.

W

TONSON.

HILE at my house in Fleet-street once you lay,
How merrily, dear Sir, time pass'd away?
While "I partook your wine, your wit, and mirth,
I was the happiest creature on God's yearth *."
CONGREVE.

While in your early days of reputation,
You for blue garters had not such a paffion;
While yet you did not use (as now your trade is)
To drink with noble lords, and toaft their ladies;
Thou, Jacob Tonfon, wert to my conceiving,
The chearfulleft, best, honest fellow living.

TONSON.

I'm in with captain Vanburgh-at the present,
A moft fweet-natur'd gentleman, and pleasant;
He writes your comedies, draws fchemes, and models,
And builds dukes houses upon very odd hills:

For him, fo much I dote on him, that I,
If I was fure to go to heaven, would die.

CONGRE VE.

Temple + and Delaval are now my party, Men that are tam Mercurio both quam Marte;

*Tonfon (Sen.) his dialect.

And

+ Sir Richard Temple, afterwards lord Cobham.

And though for them I shall scarce go to heaven,
Yet I can drink with them fix nights in feven.

TONSON.

What if from Van's dear arms I fhould retire, And once more warm my* Bunnians at your fire; If I to Bow-Street should invite you home,

And fet a bed up in my dining-room,

Tell me, dear Mr. Congreve, would you come ?
CONGREVE.

Though the gay failor, and the gentle knight,
Were ten times more my joy and heart's delight,
Though civil perfons they, you ruder were,
And had more humours than a dancing-bear;
Yet for your fake I 'd bid them both adieu,
And live and die, dear Bob, with only you.

}

HORACE, BOOK III. ODE XXI.

TO HIS CASK.

I.

HAIL, gentle Cafk, whofe venerable head

With hoary down and ancient duft o'er-spread, Proclaims, that fince the vine firft brought thee forth Old age has added to thy worth.

Whether the fprightly juice thou doft contain,

Thy votaries will to wit and love,

Or fenfelefs noife and lewdness move,

Or fleep, the cure of these and every other pain.

*Jacob's term for his corns.

II. Since