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Gave her own reafons laft, and then Decreed the caufe against the ner,

But, in a weighty cafe like this, To flew he did not judge amifs, Which evil tongues might elle report, She made a fpeech in open court; Wherein the grievously complains, "How the was cheated by the fwains ;" On whofe petition (humbly fhewing, That women were not worth the wooing, And that, unless the fex would mend, The race of lovers foon must end)— "She was at Lord knows what expence "To form a nymph of wit and fenfe, "A model for her fex def gn'd, "Who never could one lover find.

She faw her favour was mifplac'd; "The fellows had a wretched tafle; "She needs must tell them to their face, "They were a ftupid, fenfelefs race; And, were fte to begin again, "She'd ftudy to reform the en: "Or add fome grains of folly more "To women, than they had before, "To put them on an equal foot;

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"And this, or nothing elf, would do 't.

This might their mutual fancy ftrike, "Since every being loves its like.

But now, repenting what was done, She left all bufpefs to her fon; She puts the world in his polemion, "And let him ufe it at difcretion."

The cryer was order❜d to dism fs The court, fo made his la O yes! The goddess would no longer wait; But, riling from her chair ot ftate, Left all below at x and feven, Harness'd her doves, and few to heaven.

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So weak thou art, that fools thy power defpife; 835 And yet fo ftrong, thou triumph'it o'er the

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Thy traps are laid with fuch peculiar art,

They catch the cautious, let the rash deport. Moft nets are fll'd by want of thought and care: 840 But too much thinking brings us to thy fnare; Where, held by thee, in flavery we itay, And throw the pleafing part of life away. But, what does moft my indignation move, Difcretion! thou wert ne'er a friend to love: Thy chief delight is to defeat thofe arts, By which he kindles mutual flame: in hearts; While the blind 1 itering God is at his play, Thou ftcalft hi golden-pointed darts away; Thofe darts which never fail; and in their stead Convey'ft malignant arrows tip with lead : The headles God, fufpecting no deceits, Shoots on, and thinks he has done wondrous feats;

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But the poor nymph who feels her vitals burn, And from her epherd can find no retura, Laments, and rages at the power divine, When, curit Difcretion! all the fault was thine: Cupid and Hymen thou haft fet at odds, 860 And bred fuch feuds between thofe kindred gods, That Venus cannot reconcile her fons; When one appears, away the other runs. The former fcales, wherein he us❜d to poife Love againft love, and equal joys with joys, Are now l'd up with avarice and pride, Where titles, power, and riches, fill fubfide. Then, gentle Venus, to thy father run, And tell him how thy children are undone; Prepare his bolts to give one fatal blow, And strike Discretion to the fhades below.

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TN all I wish, how happy fhould I be,
Thou grand Delader, were it not for thee!

* Found in Mi- Vorhenright deft, after her death, in the hand-writing of Dr. Swift,

SPRING.

BY A LADY. †

HWho, the be, dost bring

"AIL, blufhing goddefs, beauteous Spring.

Loves and Graces, fmiling Hours,

Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers;
Come, with tints of rofeate hue,'
Nature's faded charms renew.

Yet why should I thy prefence hail?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with fweets; n more the rofe
With fuch tranfcendent bearty blows,

As whe.. Cadenus bleft the fcere,
Andar'd with me thofe joys ferene;
When, unperceiv'd, the lambert fire
Cf friedfip Kindled new det re:
Still listening to his tuneful tongue,
The truth, which angels might have fung,
Divine, impre, their gentle way,
And fwectly ftole my fcul away.

†This and the next ode have been afcribed Vanea.

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CUT

A REBUS. By VANESSA.

the name of the man who his mif-
trefs deny'd,

And let the first of it be only apply'd
To join with the prophet who David didchide;
Then fay what a horfe is that runs very fast;
And that which deferves to be firft, put the laft;
Spell all then, and put them together, to find
The Name and the Virtues of him I defign'd.
Like the Patriarch in Egypt, he's vers'd in the
frate;

Like the Prophet in Jewry, he's free with the great;

Like a racer he flies, to fuccour with speed,
When his friends want his aid, or defert is in need.

THE DEAN'S ANSWER.

Teymur envy the pride of her wit,
HE nymph who wrote this in an amorous fit,

Which thus fhe will venture profufely to throw
On fo mean a defign, and a subject so low.
For mean's her defign, and her fubject as mean,
The first but a Rebus, the laft but a Dean.
A Dean's but a parfon; and what is a Rebus?
A thing never known to the Mufes or Phoebus.
The corruption of vere; for, when all is done,
It is but a paraphrafe made on a fun.
But a genius like her's no fubject can stifle,
It fhews and difcovers itfelf through a trifle.

* Jofeph. † Nathan. ‡ Swift.

By reading this trifle, I quickly began
To find her a great wit, but the dean a fmall man.
Rich ladies will furnish their garrets with ftuff,
Which others for mantuas would think fine enough:
So the wit that is lavishly thrown away here,
Might furnish a fecond-rate feet a year.
Thus much for the verfe; we proceed to the next,
Where the Nymph had entirely forfaken her text:
Her fine panegyricks are quite out of season,
And what he defcribes to be merit is treafon :
The changes which faction has made in the ftate,
Have put the dear's politicks quite out of date':
Now no one regards what he utters with freedom,
And, fhould he write pamphlets, no great man
would read 'em ;

And should want or defert ftand in need of his aid,
This racer would prove but a dull-founder'd jade

HORACE, B. II. ODE I. PARAPHRÁSED. Addreffed to RICHARD STEELE, Efq. 1714. "En qui promittit cives, urbem fibi curæ, "Imperium fore, & Italiam, &delubra deorum,,, HOR. I Sat. vi. 34.

DICK, thou 'rt refolv'd, as I am told,

Some strange arcana to unfold,

And, with the help of Buckley's pen,
To vamp the good old cause again,

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Which thou (fuch Burnet's fhrewd advice is) 5
Muft furbish up, and nickname Crifis.
Thou pompously wilt let us know
What all the world knew long ago,
(E'er fince Sir William Gore was mayor,
And Harley ll'd the Commons' chair)
That we a German Prince must own
When Anne for heaven refigns her throne.
But, more than that, thou 'lt keep a rout -
With-who is in and who is out;
Thou 'lt rail devoutly at the peace,
And all its fecret coufes trace,
The bucket-y 'twixt Whigs and Tories,
Their ups and downs, with fifty stories
Of tricks the Lord of Oxford knows,
And errors of our Plenipoes.
Thou 'lt tell of leagues among the great,
Portending ruin to our state;
And of that dreadful coup d'eclat,
Which has afforded thee much chat.
The Queen, forfooth, (deftoric) gave
Twelve cerorets without thy leave!
A breach of liberty, 'tis own'd,
For which no heads have yet aton'd!
Believe me, what thou 'ft undertaken
May bring in jeopardy thy bacon;
For madmen, children, wits, and fools,
Should never meddle with edg'd tools.
But, fince thou 'rt got into the fire,
And canft not easily retire,
Thou muft no longer deal in farce,
Nor pump to cobble wicked verse;
Until thou fhalt have eas'd thy confcience,
Of spleen, of politicks, and nonsense;
And, when thou 'ît bid adieu to cares,
And fettled Europe's grand affairs,

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"Twill then, perhaps be, worth thy while
For Drury-Lane to fhape thy ftile:
"To make a pair of jolly fellows,
The fon and father join, to tell us
"How fons may fafely difobey,
"And fathers never fhould fay nay;

Py which wife conduct they grow friends "At laft-and fo the ftory eads*"

When first I krew thee, Dick, thou wert Renown'd for ill in Faultus' art, Which made thy clofet much frequented By buxom laffes-fome repented Their luckless choice of hufoands-others, Impatient to be like their mothers, Receiv'd from thee profound directions How beft to fettle their affections. Thus thou, a friend to the diftress'd, Didft in thy calling do thy beft.

But now the Senate (if things hit, And thou at Stockbridge wert not bit) Muft feel thy eloquence and fire, Approve thy fchemes, thy wit admire, Thee with immortal hancur: crown,

Whilft, Patriot-like, thou 'lt strut and frown,

What though by enemies 'tis faid,

The laurel which adorns thy head,
Muft one day come in competition
By virtue of fome fly petition:
Yet mum for that; hope ftill the beft,
Nor let fuch cares disturb thy rest.

Methinks I hear thee loud as trumpet,
As bag-pipe fhrill, or oyfter-ftrumpet;
Methinks I fee thee, fpruce and fine,
With coat embroider'd richly shine,
And dazzle all the idol-faces

As through the hall thy worship paces;
(Though this I speak but at a venture,
Suppofing thou haft rick with Hunter)
Methinks I fee a black-guard-rout
Attend thy coach, and hear them fhout
In approbation of thy tongue,
Which (in their ftyle) is purely hung,
Now! now you carry all before you!
Nor dares one Jacobite or Tory
Preted to answer one fyllable,
Except the matchlefs hero Abel.
What though her highness and her fpoufe
In Antwerps keep a frugal house,
Yet, not forgetful of a friend,
They'll foon enable thee to spend,
If to Macartney thou wilt toast,
And to his ficus tatrer's ghost.
Now manfully thou 'It run a tilt

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"For maffacres, and racks, and flames, "For lands enrich'd by crimson ftreams, "For inquifitions taught by Spain,

Of which the Christian world complain." Dick, we agree-all's true thou 'it faid, As that my Mufe is yet a maid. But, if I may with freedom talk, All this is foreign to thy walk: Thy genius has perhaps a knack 50 At trudging in a beaten track, But is for fate-affair: as fit As mine for politicks and wit. Then let us both in time grow wife, Nor higher than our talents rife ;

55 To fome fnug cella let's repair

From duns and debts, and drown our care;
Now quats of honeft ale a quart,
Now venture at a pint of port,

With which infpir'd, we 'll club each night 60 Some tender fonnst to indite,

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And with Tom D'Urfey, Philips, Dennis, 115 Immortalize our Dolls and Jenneys.

HORACE, BOOK I. EP. V.
JOHN DENNIS the fheltering Poet's INVITA
TION to RICHARD STEELE, the fecluded
Party-writer, and Member, to come and live
with him in THE MINT, 1714*.

Fit to be bound up with THE CRISIS.

thou canst lay afide a spendthrift's air, And condefcend to feed on homely fare, Such as we Minters, with ragouts unftor'd, Wil, in defiance of the law, afford; Quit thy patrols with Toby's Chriftinas-box, And come to me at The Two Fighting Cocks : Since printing by subscription now is grown The ftaleft, idleft cheat about the town; 80 And ev'n Charles Gildon, who, a papift bred, Has an alarm against that worship spread, Is practising those beaten paths of cruifing, And for new levies on Proposals mufing. 'Tis true, that Bloomsbury Square's a noble place;

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But what are lofty buildings in thy cafe? What's a fine houfe embellifh'd to profufon, 15 Where fhoulder-dabbers are in execution? Or whence its timorous tenant feldom fallies, 90 But apprehenfive of infulting bailiffs? This once be mindful of a friend's advice, And ceafe to be improvidently nice; Exchange the profpects that delude thy fight, From Highgate's steep afcent, and, Hampstead's height,

On pepes, for all the blood they 've fpilt, *This is faid to be a plot of a comedy with swhich Mr. Steele has long threatened the town. SWIFT-In feme particulars it would apply to "The Conscious Lovers,"

There were fome tolerable grounds for this reficien. Mr. Steele had actually a laberatory at Popl r.

Abel Reper.

Where the Duke of Marlborough then refided. General Macartney, who killed Duke Hamilton.

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But quite divested of my former fpleen,
Am unprovok'd without and calm within:
And here I'll wait thy coming, till the fun
Shall its diurnal courfe completely run.

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Think not that thou of sturdy butt fhalt fail; 35
My landlord's cellar 's stock'd with beer and ale,
With every fort of malt that is in use,
And every county's generous produce.
The ready (for here Christian faith is fick,
Which makes us feldom trespass upon tick)
Inftantly brings the choiceft liquors out,
Whether we ask for home-brew'd or for itout,
For mead or cyder, or with dainties fed,
Ring for a flask or two of white or red,
Such as the drawer will not fail to fwear
Was drunk by Pilkington when third time mayor.
That name, methinks, fo popularly known
For oppofition to the church and crown,
Might make the Lufitanian grape to pass,
And almost give a fanction to the glafs;
Efpecially with thee, whofe hafty zeal
Against the late rejected commerce bill
Made thee rife up, like an audacious elf,
To do the speaker honour, not thyfelf.

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But, if thou foar'ft above the common prices,
By virtue of fubfcription to thy Crifis,
And nothing can go down with thee, but wines
Prefs'd from Burgundian and Campanian vines,
Bid them be brought; for, though I hate the
French,

I love their liquors, as thou lov'ft a wench;
Elfe thou must humble thy expenfive tafte,
And, with us, hold contentment for a feast.

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The fire's already lighted; and the maid Has a clean cloth upon the table laid, Who never on a Saturday had ftruck, But for thy entertainment, up a buck. Think of this act of grace, which by your leave Sufan would not have done on Eafter Eve, Had fhe not been inform'd over and over, 'Twas for th' ingenious Author of The Lover. 70 Ceafe therefore to beguile thyfelf with hopes, Which is no more than making fandy ropes, And quit the vain pursuit of loud applau e, That must bewilder thee in faction's caufe.

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And with much malice, mix'd with little fatire,
Explode the wits on t'other fide o'th' water.
Why has my Lord Godolphin's special grace
Invefted me with a queen's-waiter's place,
If I, debarr'd of festival delights,
Am not allow'd to spend the perquifites?
He's but a fhort remove from being mad,
Who at a time of Jubilee is fad;
And, like a griping ufurer, does fpare
His money to be fquander'd by his heir;
Flutter'd away in liveries and in coaches,
And washy forts of feminine debauches.
As for my part, whate'er the world may think,
P'il bid adieu to gravity, and drink;
And, though I can't put off a woeful mein,
Will be all mirth and cheerfulness within:
As, in defpight of a cenforious race,
I moft incontinently fuck my face.
What mighty projects does not he defign,
Whofe ftomach Hows, and brain turns round

with wine?

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As he flings off the statesman's fly difguife,
To name the cuckold's wife with whom he lies.
Ev'n Sarum, when he quaffs it ftead of tea, 120
Fancies himself in Canterbury's fee;
And S******, when he carousing reels,
Imagines that he has regain'd the feals :
W******, by virtue of its juice, can fight, 125
And Stanhope of commiffioners make light.
Wine gives Lord William aptitude of parts,
And fwells him with his family's deferts:
Whom can it not make eloquent of Speech?
Whom in extremet poverty not rich?
Since, by the means of the prevailing grape,
Th**** can Lechnere's warmth not only ap
But half-fea--o'er, by its infpiring bounties,
Can quality himself in feveral counties.
What I have promis'd, thou may'st rest affurd,
Shall faithfully and gladly be procur'd.
Nay, I'm already better than my word,
New plates and knives adorn the jovial board :

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Pry'thee what is't to thee,who guides the state? 75 And, left thou at their fight shouldst make way Why Dunkirk's demolition is fo late?

Or why her Majefty thinks fit to cease

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The din of war, and hufh the world to peace?
The clergy too, without thy aid, can tell
What texts to choofe, and on what topicks dwell;
And, uninftructed by thy babbling, teach
Their flocks, celeftial happiness to reach.
Rather let fuch poor fouls as you and I
Say that the holydays are drawing nigh,
And that to-morrow's fun begins the week,
Which will abound with ftore of ale and cake,
With hams of bacon, and with powder'd beef,
Stuff'd to give field-itinerants relief,

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Then I, who have within thefe precincts kept, And ne'er beyond the chimney-fweeper's ftept, Will take a loofe, and venture to be feen, Since 'twill be Sunday, upon Shanks's green; There, with erected looks and phrafe fublime, To talk of unity of place and time,

faces,

The girl has fcower'd the pots, and wafi'd the glaffes,

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Ta'en care fo excellently well to clean 'em,
That thou may ft fee thine own dear picture in 'em.
Moreover, due provifion has been made,
That converfation may not be betray'd;
I have no company but what is proper
To £t with the most flagrant Whig at fupper.
There's not a man among them but muft pleafe,
Since they re as like each other as are peas.
Toland and Hare have jointly fent me word,
They'll come; and Kennet thinks to make a third,
Provided he 'as no other invitation,
From men of greater quality and flation.
Room will for Oldmixon and J-s be left;
But their difcourfes fmell too much of theft:
There would be no abiding in the room,
Should two fuch ignorant pretenders come.

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TO LORD HARLEY,

ON HIS MARRIAGE, 1713.
MONG the numbers who employ

A Their tongues and pens to give you joy,

Dear Harley! generous youth, admit-
What friendship dictates more than wit.
Forgive me, when I fondly thought
(By frequent obfervations taught)
A fpirit fo inform'd as yours
Could never profper in amours.

The God of Wit, and Light, and Arts,
With all acquir'd and natural parts,
Whole harp could favage beatts enchant,
Was an unfortunate gallant.
Had Bacchus after Daphne reel'd,

The Nymph had foon been brought to yield:
Or, had embroider'd Mars puriued,

The Nymph would ne'er have been a prude.
Ten thoufand footsteps, full in view,
Mark out the way where Daphne flew :
For fuch is all the fex's fight,

They fly from learning, wit, and light:
They fly, and none can overtake
But fome gay coxcomb, or a rake,

How then, dear Harley, could I guess
That you should meet, in love, fuccefs?
For, if thofe antient tales be true,
Phoebus was beautiful as you:
Yet Daphne never flack'd her pace,
For wit and learning fpoil'd his face.
And, fince the fame refe blance held
In gifts wherein you both excell'd,
I fancy'd every nymph would run
From you, as from Latona's fon.

Then where, faid I, fhall Harley find
A virgin of fuperior mind,
With wit and virtue to difcover,
And pay the merit of her lover?

This character fhall Ca'endifh claim,
Born to retrieve her fex's fame.

The chief among the glittering crowd,
Of titles, birth, and fortune proud,
(As fools are infolent and vain)
Madly afpir'd to wear her chain :
But Pallas, guardian of the Maid,
Defcending to her charge's aid,
Held cut Medusa's (naky locks,
Which tupify'd them all to stock.
The Nymph with indignation view'd
The dull, the noify, and the lewd:
For Pallas, with celeftial light,
Had purify'd her mortal fight;
Shew'd her the virtues all combin'd,
Fresh blooming, in young Harley's mind.
Terrestrial nymphs, by former arts,
Difplay their various nets for hearts :
Their looks are all by method fet,
When to be prude, and when coquette;
Yet, wanting kill and power to chocfe,
Their only pride is to refufe.

But when a goddefs would bestow
Her love on fome bright youth below,
Round all the earth fhe cafts her eyes;
And then, defcending from the skies,
Makes choice of him the fancies beft,
And bids the ravish'd youth be bless'd,

Thus the bright Emprefs of the Morn
Chofe, for her spouse, a mortal born :
The Goddefs made advances farft;
Elfe what afpiring hero durft?
Though, like a virgin of fifteen,
She blushes when by mortals feen;
Still blufhes, and with speed retires,
When Sol purfues her with his fires.

Diana thus, Heaven's chafteft queen, Struck with Endymiou's graceful inien, Down from her filver chariot came, And to the Shepherd owned her flame.

Thus Ca'endif, as Aurora bright,
And chafter than the Queen of Nighty
Defcended from her fphere, to find
A mortal of fuperior kind.

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IN SICKNESS. Writted in IRELAND, October, 1714 S true-then why should I repine To fee my life fo fast decline? But why obfcurely here alone, Where I am neither lov'd nor known? My state of health none care to learn ; My life is here no foul's corcern: And those with whom I now converse, Without a tear will tend my hearse. Remov'd from kind Arbuthnot's aid, Who knows bis art, but not his trade, Preferring his regard for me Before his credit or his fee. Some formal vifits, looks, and words, What mere humanity affords, I meet perhaps from three or four, From whom I once expected more;

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