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While Victory, with wings outfpread,
Flies, like an eagle, o'er his head;
His milk-white fteed upon its haunches,
Or pawing into dead men's paunches:
As Overton has drawn hi fire,
Still feen o'er many an ale-house fire.
Then from his arms hoarfe thunder rolls,
As loud as fifty mustard bowls;
For thunder ftill his arm fupplies,
And lightning always in his eyes:
They both are cheap enough in confcience,
And ferve to echo rattling nonfenfe.
The rumbling words march fierce along,
Made trebly dreadful in your fong.

Sweet poet, hir'd for birth-day rhymes,
To fing of wars, choofe peaceful times.
What though, for fifteen years and more,
Janus had lock'd his temple door;
Though not a coffee-houfe we read in
Hath mention'd arms on this fide Sweden;
Nor London Journals, nor the Postmen,
Though fond of warlike lies as most men;
Thou ftill with battles ftu thy head full :
For, must thy hero not be dreadful?

Difiniffing Mars, it next muft follow,
Your conqueror is become Apollo :
That he's Apollo is as plain as
That Robin Walpole is Mecenas ;
But that he ftruts, and that he fquints,
You'd know him by Apollo's prints.
Old Phoebus is but half as bright,
For yours can fhine both day and night.
The firft, perhaps, may onee an age
Infpire you with poetic rage;
Your Pha bus Royal, every day,
Not only can infpire, but pay.

Then make this new Apollo ft Sole patron, judge, and god of wit. "How from his altitude he ftorps "To raife up Virtue when the droops; "On Learning how his bounty flows, "And with what juftice he bestows: "Fair His, and ye banks of Cam! "Be witnefs if I tell a flam. "What prodigies in Arts we drain, "From both your ftreams, in George's reign.

As from the flowery bed of Nile"
But here's enough to fhew your ftyle.
Broad innuendos, fuch as this,
If well applied, can hardly mifs:
For, when you bring your fong in print,
He'll get it read, and take the hint,
(It must be read before 'tis warbled,
The paper gilt, and cover marbled)
And will be fo much more your debtor,
Because he never knew a letter.
And, as he hears his wit and fenfe
(To which he never made pretence)
Set out in hyperbolic strains,
A guinea fall reward your pains:
For patrons never pay fo well,

As when they scarce have learn'd to spell.
Next call him Neptune with his trident
He rules the fea; you fee him ride in 't :

And, if provok'd, he foundly firks bis
Rebellious waves with rods, like Xerxes.
He would have feiz'd the Spanish plate,
Had not the Beet gone out too late;
And in their very ports befege them,
But that he would not difoblige them;
And make the rafcals pay him dearly
For thofe affronts they give him yearly.
'Tis not deny'd, that, when we write,
Our ink is black, our paper white;
And, when we ferawl our paper o'er,
We blacken what was white before:
I think this practice only fit
For dealers in fatiric wit.

But you fome white-lead ink muft get;
And write on paper black as jet;
Your intereft lies to learn the Fnack
Of whitening what before was black.
Thus your encomium, to be firong,
Muft he applied directly wrong.
A tyrant for his mercy praise,
And crown a royal dunce with bays:
A fquinting monkey load with charms,
And paint a coward fierce in arms.
Is he to avarice inclin'd?

Extol him for his generous mind :
And, when we farve for want of corn,
Come out with Amalthea's horn.

For all experience this evinces
The only art of pleafing princes :
For princes' love you fhould defcant
On virtues which they know they want.
One compliment I had forgot,
But forgfters muft omit it not;
I freely grant the thought is old:
Why, then, your hero must be told,
In him fuch virtues lie inherent,
To qualify him God's vicegerent;
That, with no title to inherit,
He must have been a king by merit.
Yet, be the fancy old or new,
'Tis partly falfe, and partly true :
And, take it right, it means no more
Than George and William claim'd before.
Should fome obfcure inferior fellow,
Like Julius, or the Youth of Pella,
When all your lift of Gods is out,
Prefume to fhew his mortal fnout,
And as a Deity intrude,

Because he had the world fubdued;
Ch, let him not debafe your thoughts,
Or name him but to tell his faults,-

Of Gods I only quote the beft,
But you may hook-in all the reft.

Now, Birthday Bard, with joy proceed To praife your Emprefs and her breed. Firit of the frft, to vouch your lies, Bring all the females of the fries; The Graces, and their mittress Venus, Muft venture down to entertain us : With bended knees when they adore her, What dowdies they appear before her! Nor fall we think you talk at random, For Venus might be her great-grandam:

Six thousand years has liv'd the Goddess,
Your Heroine hardly fifty odd is.
Beldes, your fongiters oft' have shown
That he hath Graces of her own;
Three Graces by Lucina brought her,
Jutt three, and every grace a daughter.
Here many a king his heart and erown
Shall at their fnowy feet lay down;
In royal robes, they come by dozens
To court their English German coulins :
Beides a pair of princely babies,

That, five years hence, will both be Hebes.
Now fee her feated in her throne
With genu.ne lutire, all her own:
Poor Cynthia never fhone fo bright,
Her fplendour is but borrow'd light;
And only with her Brother linkt
Can fhine, without him is extinct.
But Carolina fhines the clearer

With neither fpoufe nor brother near her;
And darts her beams o'er both our ines,
Though George is gone a thousand miles.
Thus Berecynthia takes her place,
Attended by her heavenly race;
And fees a fon in every God,
Unaw'd by Jove's all-shaking nod.

Now fing his little Highnefs Freddy,
Who ftruts like any king already:
With fo much, beauty, fhew me any maid
That could refift this charming Ganymede!
Where majefty with fweetnefs vies,
And, like his father, early wife.
Then cut him out a world of work,
To conquer Spain, and quell the Turk:
Foretel his empire crown'd with bays,
And golden times, and halcyon days;
And fwear his line fall rule the nation
For ever-till the conflagration,

But, now it comes into my mind,
We left a little Duke behind;
A Cupid in his face and fize,
And only wants to want his eyes.
Make fome provifon for the younker,
Find him a kingdom out to conquer :
Prepare a fleet to waft him o'er,
Make Gulliver his commodore ;
Ito whofe pocket valiant Willy put,
Will foon fubdue the realm of Lilliput.

A fkilful critick jufly blames

Hard, tough, crank, guttural, harth, stiff names.
The fenfe can ne'er be too jejune,
But smooth your words to fit the tune.
Hanover may do well enough,

B George and Brunswick are too rough.
deffe-Darmfladt makes a rugged found,
nd Guelp the ftrongest ear will wound.
e vain are all attempts from Germany

To had out proper words for harmony:
nd yet I must except the Rhine,

caufe it clinks to Caroline.

ail! Queen of Britain, Queen of rhymes! fung ten hundred thousand times!

VOL. V.

Too happy were the poets' crew,
If their own happinefs they knew:
Three fyllables did never meet
So foft, fo fliding, and fo fweet:
Nine other tuneful words like that
Would prove ev'n Homer's numbers flat.
Behold three beauteous vowels itand,
With bridegroom liquids, hand in hand;
In concord here for ever txt,
No jarring confonant betwixt.

May Caroline continue long,
For ever fair and young-in fong.
What though the royal carcafe muft,
Squeez'd in a coffin, turn to duft?
Thofe elements her name compofe,
Like atoms, are exempt from blows.

Though Careline may fill your gaps,
Yet ftill you must confult your maps;
Find rivers with harmonious names,
Sebrina, Medway, and the Thames.
Britannia long will wear like fteel,
But Albion's cliffs are out at heel;
And patience can endure no more
To hear the Belgic lion roar.
Give up the phrase of haughty Gaul,
But proud Iberia foundly maul:
Reftore the fhips by Philip taken,

And make him crouch to fave his bacon.
Naffau, who got the name of Glorious
Because he never was victorious,
A hanger-on has always been;
For old acquainta ce bring him in.

To Walpole you might lend a line,
But much I fear he 's in decline;
And, if you chance to come too late,
When he goes out, you fhare his fate,
And bear the new fucceffor's frown ; -
Or, whom you once fang up, g down.
Reject with fcorn that ftupid notion,
To praise your Hero for devotion;
Nor entertain a thought fo odd,
That princes fhould believe in God;
But follow the secureft rule,
And turn it all to ridicule :

'Tis grown the choiceft wit at Court,
And gives the maids of honour sport.
For, fince they talk'd with Doctor Clarke,
They now can venture in the dark:

That found Divine the truth hath spoke all,
And pawn'd his word, hell is not local.
This will not give them half the trouble
bargains fold, or meanings double.
Suppofing now your fong is done,
To Mynheer Hardel next you run,
Whs artfully will pare and prune
Your word, to fome Italian tune:
Then print it in the largeft letter,
With capitals, the more the better.
Prefent it boldly on your knee,
And take a guinea for your fee.

Cec

BOUTS RIMES.

ON SIGNORA DOMITILLA.

UR fchool-mafter may rave i' th' fit
of claffic beauty hæc & illa,
Not all his birch in pires fuch wit
As th' ogling beams of Domitilla.
Let nobles toaft, in bright champain,
Nymphs higher born than Domitilla;
I'll drink her health, again, again,
In Berkeley's tar, or fars-parilla.

At Goodman's-Fields I've much admir'd
The poftures ftrange of Monfieur Brilla;
But what are they to the foft ftep,
The gliding air, of Domitilla?
Virgil has eterniz'd in fong

The flying footsteps of Camilla :
Sure, as a prophet, he was wrong;
He might have dreamt of Domitilla.
Great Theodofe condemn'd a town
For thinking ill of his Placilla;
And deuce take London, if fome knight
O' th' city wed not Domitilla!
Wheeler, Sir George, in travels wise,
Gives us a medal of Plantilla;
But, oh! the empress has not eyes,
Nor lips, nor breaft, like Domitilla.
Not all the wealth of plunder'd Italy,

Pil'd on the mules of king At-tila,
Is worth one glove (I'll not tell a bit a lie)
Or garter, fnatch'd from Domitilla.
Five years a nymph at certain hamlet,
Y-cleped Harrow of the Hill, a-
-bus'd much my heart, and was a damn'd let
To verfe but now for Domitilla.
Dan Pope configns Belinda's watch
To the fair Sylphid Momentilla,
And thus I offer up my catch

To th' fnow-white hands of Domitilla.

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And with boots so very greasy,
And with faddles eke fo eafy;
And with bridles fine and gay,
Bridles borrow'd for a day;
Bridles deftin'd far to roam,
Ah! never, never to come home.
And with hats fo very big, Sir;
And with powder'd caps and wigs, Sir;
And with ruffles to be fhown,
Cambrick ruffles not their own;
And with Holland fhirts fo white,
Shirts becoming to the fight,
Shirts be-wrought with different letters,
As belonging to their betters;
With their pretty tinfel❜d boxes,
Gotten from their dainty doxies;
And with rings fo very trim,
Lately taken out of lim
And with very little pence,
And as very little fenfe;
With fome law, but little juftice,
Having ftolen from my hoftefs,
From the barber and the cutler,
Like the foldier from the futler:
From the vintner and the taylor,
Like the felon from the jailer;
Into this and t' other county,
Living on the public bounty;
Thorough town and thorough village,
All to plunder, all to pillage;
Thorough mountains, thorough vallies,
Thorough ftinking lanes and alleys;
Some to kifs with farmers' fpoufes,
And make merry in their houfes;
Some to-tumble country wenches
On their ruby-beds and benches,
And, if they begin a fray,

Draw their fwords, and-run away;
All to murder equity,

And to take a double fee;

Till the people all are quiet,
And forget to broil and riot :
Low in pocket, cow'd in courage,
Safely glad to fup their porridge;
And Vacation's over-then,
Hey, for London town again.

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And that this boafted lord of nature both a weak and erring creature ; That inftinct is a furer guide

han reafon-boafting mortals' pride;

nd that brute beafts are far before 'am, tur eft anima brutorum.

Who ever knew an honeft brute

t law his neighbour profecute;
ring action for affault and battery,
r friend beguile with lies and flattery?
er plains they ramble unconfin'd,
To politicks difturb their mind;

They eat their meals, and take their sport,
or know who 's in or out at court.
They never to the levee go,

o treat as dearest friend, a foe : hey never importune his grace, or ever cringe to men in place; or undertake a dirty job,

or draw the quill to write for Bob; raught with invective they ne'er go To folks at Pater-nofter-row.

o judges, fiddlers, dancing-mafters, o pick-pockets, or poctafters, re known to honest quadrupeds : o fingle brute his fellows leads. rutes never meet in bloody fray, or cut each other's throats for pay. f beafts, it is confefs'd, the ape omes neareft us in human shape; ike man, he imitates each fashion, nd malice is his ruling paffion: ut, both in malice and grimaces, courtier any ape furpafles : ehold him humbly cringing wait pon the minifter of ftate; iew him foon after to inferiors ping the conduct of fuperiors : e premifes with equal air, ad to perform takes equal care. e in his turn finds imitators:

t court, the porters, lacqueys, waiters, heir mafters' manners ftill contract; nd footmen lords and dukes can act. hus, at the court, both great and sma!į chave alike; for all ape all,

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Thus Dedalus and Ovid too,

That man's a blockhead, have confeft; Powel and Stretch the hint pursue; Life is a farce, the world a jeft.

The fame great truth South-Seaf hath prov'd
On that fam'd theatre, the alley:
Where thousands, by directors mov'd,
Are now fad monuments of folly.
What Momus was of old to Jove,
The fame a Harlequin is now;
The former was buffoon above,
The latter is a Punch below.
This fleeting scene is but a ftage,
Where various images appear;
In different parts of youth and age
Alike the prince and peasant share.
Some draw our eyes by being great,
Falfe pomp conceals mere wood within :
And legiflators rang'd in ftate

And oft' but wifdom in machine. -
A stock may chance to wear a crown,
And timber as a lord take place;

A ftatue may put on a frown,

And cheat us with a thinking face. Others are blindly led away,

And made to act for ends unknown; By the mere spring of wires they play, And fpeak in language not their own. Too oft', alas! a fcolding wife

Ufurps a jolly fellow's throne; And many drink the cup of life, Mix'd and embitter'd by a Joan. In fhort, whatever men purfue,

Of pleasure, folly, war, or love;
This mimic race brings all to view :

Alike they dreis, they talk, they move.
Go on, great Stretch, with artful hand,
Mortals to pleafe and to deride;
And, when death breaks thy vital band,
Thou shalt put on a puppet's pride.
Thou shalt in puny wood be fhown,

Thy image fhall preferve thy fame;
Ages to come thy worth fhall own,

Point at thy limbs, and tell thy name.
Tell Tom, he draws a farce in vain,
Before he looks in nature's glafs
Puns cannot form a witty fcene,
Nor pedantry for humour pass,
To make men act as fenfelefs wood,
And chatter in a myftic ftrain,
Is a mere force on flesh and blood,

And fhews fome error in the brain.
He that would thus refine on thee,
And turn thy ftage into a school,
The jeft of Punch will ever be,
And ftand confeft the greater fool.

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Two famous puppet-fnew men. + See the poem on the South-Sea, p. 312,

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But Hannah, who liften'd to all that was pat,
And could not endure fo vulgar a tale,
As foon as her Lady ip calPd to be dreft,
Cry'd, Madam, why furely my mafter's pol-
"feft.

"Sir Arthur the maltfter! how fine it will found!
"I'd rather the ban were funk under ground.
"But madam, I guefs'd there would never come
« good,

"When I faw him fo often with Darby and "Wood.

"And now my dream's out; for I was a "dream'd

"First, let me fuppofe I make it a malt-heufe," "Here I have computed the profit will fall t' us; "There's nine hundred pounds for labour and grain,

"I increase it to twelve, fo three hundred re"main;

"A handfome addition for wine and good cheer,
"Three dishes a day, and three hogsheads a year.
"With a dozen large veffels my vault fell be
"ftor'd;

"No little fcrub joint fhall come on my board;
"And you and the Dean no more shall combine
"To ftint me at night to one bottle of wine;
"Nor fhall I, for his humour, permit you to
« purloin,

"A ftone and a quarter of beef from my fur-
« loin.

"If I make it a barrack, the crown is my tenant; "My dear, I have ponder'd again and again on 't: "In poundage and drawbacks I lofe half my

"rent;

"Whatever they give me, I must be content,
"Or join with the court inevery debate;
"And rather than that, I would lofe my eftate."
Thus ended the Knight: thus began his meek
wife:

« It mu, and it shall be a burrock, my life,
"I'm grown a mere mopas; no company comes,

But a rabble of tenants, and rusty dull § Rumas.
"With Parfons what lady can keep herfelf clean?
"I'm all over daub'd when I fit by the Dean.
"But if you will give us a barrack, my dear,
"The Captain, I'm fure, will always come
<<< here;

I then shall not value his Dean ip a ftraw, "For the Captain, I warrant, will keep him in

"awe;

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That I faw a huge rat-Ó dear, how I

"fcream'd!

"And a ter, methought, I had loft my new

"fhoes;

"And Molly, fre faid, I should hear fome ill "news.

"Dear nadam, had you but the fpirit to teafe, “You might have a boa rack whenever yon please: "And, madam, I always beli. v'd you fo out, "That for twenty denials you would not give

" out,

"If I had a husband like him, I furte,
"Till he gave me my will, I would give him no

<<<reit;

"And, rather than come in the fame pairof fheets
"With fuch a crofs man, I would lie is the fir.ets:
«But, madam, I beg you contrive and invest,
"And worry him out, till he gives his confent,
"Dear madam, whene'er of a barack 1 think,
"An I were to be hang'd, I can't fleep a wink;

For if a new crotchet comes into my brain,
"I can't get it out, though I'd never so fain.
"I fancy already a barrack contriv'd
"At Hamilton's bawn, and the troop is arriv'd;
"Of this to be fure Sir Arthur has warning,
"And waits on the Captain betimes the next

“morning.

«Now fer, when they meet, how their Honours “behave:

"Noble Captain, your fervant" Sir Arthur, « pour flave;"

"You honour me much" The honour is "mine"

'Twas a fad rainy night"-" But the morn

<<< ing is fine."

"Pray how does my Lady?""My wife's at "your fervice."—

« I think I have feen her picture by Jervas.""Good Morrow, good Captain. I'll wait on "you down."-

"You fra'nt fir a foot."--You 'll think me a « clown:

"For all the world, Captain-" "Not half an

"inch farther."

"You must be obey'd!”—« Your fervant, Sir "Arthur!

"My humble refpes to my Lady unknown."-"I hope you will ufe my houfe as your own."

"Go bring me my fmock, and leave off your

"prate,

"Thou haft certainly gotten a cup in thy pate." My lady's waiting woman. F.

Two of Sir Arthur's managers, F.

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