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Nor at an under-rate his timber fell,

The candidates observ'd his dirty paws, And with an oath assure him, all is well; Nor found it difficult to guess the cause; Or swear it rotten, and with bumble airs

But, when they smelt such foul corruptions round Request it of bim to complete your stairs :

him, Nor, when a mortgage lies on half his lands, Away they filed, and left him as they found him. Come with a purse of guinças in your hands. Thus, when a greedy loven once has chrown

Have Peter Waters always in your mind : His fnet into the mess, 'tis all bis own.
That rogue, of genuine minifterial kind,
Can half the peerage by his arts bewitch,
Starve twenty lords to make one scoundre rich;
And, when he gravely has undone a score,

ON THE IRISH BISHOPS.* 1731. Is humbly pray'd to ruin twenty more.

A dextrcus fleward, when his tricks are found, LD Latimer preaching did fairly describe Hufs-money sends to all the neighbours round;

A bishop, who rul'd all the rest of his tribe: His master, unsuspicious of his pranks,

And who is this bishop? and where does he dwell? Pays all the cust, and gives the villain thanks.

Why truly ’tis Satan, arch-bishop of hell. And, should a friend attempt to set him right, And He was a primate, and He wore a mitre His Lordship would impute it all to Spight; Surrounded with jewels of fulphur and nitre. Would love his favourite better than before, How nearly this bishop our bishops resembles ! And trust his honefty je:ft so much more.

But he has the odds, who believes and woba trimbles. Thus families, like realms, with equal fate,

Could you see hisgrim grace, for a pound to a penny, Are sunk by premier ministers of jlate.

You 'd swear it muft be the baboon of Kilker.ny: Some, when an heir succeeds, go boldly on, Pour Satan will think the comparison odious; And, as they robb’d the fatber, rob the fon. I wish I could find himrout one more commodious. A knave, who deep imbroils his lord's affairs,

But this I am sure, the most reverend old dragon Will soon grow necessary to his heirs.

Has got on the bench many bishops suffragan; His policy consists in setting traps,

And all men believe he resides there incog. In finding ways and means, and stopping gaps; To give them by turns an invisible jog. He knows a thousand tricks whene'er he please, Our bishops, puff'd up with wealthand with pride, Though not to cure, yet palliate each disease.

To hell on the backs of the clergy would ride. In either case, an equal chance is rur ;

They mountedandlabour’d with whipandwith spur, For, keep or turn him out, my Lord's undone.

un vain—for the devil a parson would ftir. You want a hand to clear a filthy fink;

So the Commons unhors d them; and this was No cleanly workman can endure the flink.

their doom, A strong dilemnia in a desperate cafe!

On their crosers to ride, like a witch on a breom. To act with infamy, or quit the place.

Though they gallop'd fo fuit, on the road you may A bungler thus, who scarce tl: nail can hit,

find 'eni, With driving wrong will make the pannel fplit ; and have left us but three out of twenty hthind'em, Nor dares an abler workman undertake

Lord Bulton's good grace, Lord Car, ard Lord To drive a fecond, left the whole fhould break.

Howard, In every court the parallI will hold;

In spite of the devil, would fill be untoward : And kings, like private folks, are bought and sold. They came of good kirdred, and could not endure The ruling rogue, who dreads to be cothic'd,

Their furiner companion: Dould beg at their door. Contrives, as he is baird, to be frar'd;

When Christ was betray'a tu Pilate the pretur, Confounds accounts, perplexes all utfairs;

Ofa dozën aperties but one prov'd a traitor: For vengeance more imbreils, that kill repairs, One traitor al ue, and faithful elevco; So robbers (and their ends are juil the lanie), But we can atívurd yu ix irators in seven. To 'scape inquiries, kasrile lucife in fiume.

What a cluiter with cuspiegs, dividings, and I knew a brazen misifier or itate,

cleavinya! Who bore for twice ten years the public rate. And the clergy forfooth mus take up with that In every mouth the question most in vogue

havings. Was, Wben will they turn cui ilis otuus roue? If making divifions was all their intent, A jundure happen'd in his highest pride : They've done it, we than then, but not as they While be went robbing on, de mujer dy'd.

meani; We thought there now remaindi wa room to doubt; And so may fuch bishops for ever dividi, His w.ok is cone the minilier mujú out.

That no honeit heathen would be on their ide. The court inzilid more than one or two; How mould we rejoice, if, lide Judas the firit, Will you, Sir Spencer? or, Will you, or you? Tiwse splitters of parsons in sunder would burd! But not a foul is ofice durt ucccst; The subtle knave had all the plunder swept :

Oczazoned by their end: avouring to get an sê » And, such was then the temper of the rimes, divide thi churib-livings; wbich bili tuas rejiciet sy He ow'd his preservation to his crimes.

ibe Irij bouje of commons.

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Now hear an allusion: --A mitre, you know, I love my friend as well as you: i divided above, but united below.

But why should he obstruct my view? : this you consider, our emblem is right; Then let me have the higher post ; 'he bishops divide, but the clergy unite.

Suppose it but an inch at most. hould the bottom be split, our bishops would dread if in a battle you should find 'hat the mitre would never stick fast on their head: One, whom you love of all mankind, nd yet they have learnt the chief art of a sovereign, Had some heroic action done, s Machiavel taught them; divide, and ye govern. A champion kill'd, or crophy won; ut courage, my lords; though it cannot be said

Rather than thus be over-topt,

25 hat one cloven tongue ever sat on your head; Would you not with his laurels cropt? 'll hold you a groat (and I wish I could see 't,) Dear honest Ned is in the gout, your flockings were off, you could shew cloven feet. Lies rack'd with pain, and you without : But hold, cry the bishops; and give us fair play; How patiently you hear him groan

! efore you condemn us, hear what we can fay. How glad the case is not your own! That truer affections could ever be shown,

What poet would not grieve to see han saving your souls by damving our own? His brother write as well as he ? nd have we not practis'd all methods to gain you; But, rather than they should excel, fith the tithe of the tithe of the tithe to maintain Would with his rivals all in hell? you;

Her end when emulation misses,

35 rovided a fund for building you spitals ? She turns to envy, stings, and hifles : ou are only to live four years without victuals.

The strongest friendship yields to pride,
Content, my good lords; but let us change hands; Unless the odds be on our side.
rit take you our tithes, and give us your lands. Vain human-kind! fantastic race!
God bless the Church and three of our mitres; | Thy various follies who can trace?
nd God bless the Commons, for biting the biters. Self-love, ambition, envy, pride,

Their empire in our hearts divide.
Give others riches, power and station,
'Tis all to me an usurpation.
I have no title to aspire;


Yet, when you sink, I seem the higher.

In Pope I cannot read a line, ccasioned by reading the following Maxim in But with a sigh I wish it 'mine: Rochefoucault, “ Dans l'adversité de nos when he can in one couplet fix “meilleurs amis, nous trouvons toujours quelque More sense than I can do in fix;

so " chose qui ne nous déplaît pas."

It gives me such a jealous fit,

“ Pox cake him and his wit!"
In the adversity of our best friends, we always I grieve to be outdone by Gay
" find something that doth not displease us.”

in my own humourous biting way.
Arbuthnot is no more my friend,

Who dares to irony pretend,
From nature, I believe them true :

Which I was born to introduce, hey argue no corrupted mind

Refin’d at first, and thew'd its use. him; the fault is in mankind.

St John, as well as Pulteney, knows
This maxim more than all the rest

That I had some repute for prose;

60 i thought too base for human breast :

And, till they drove me out of date, In all distrefies of our friends,

Could maul a minister of state.
We first confult our private ends ;

If they have niortisied my pride,
While nature, kindly bent to case us,
Points out some circumstance to please us.” 10 lf with such talents Heaven hath bless'd 'em, 65

ånd made me throw my pen alide; If this perhaps your patience move,

Have I not reason to detest 'em? et reason and experience prove. We all behold with envious cyes

To all my foes, dear Fortune, send

Thy gifts; but never to my friend : Dur equals rais'd above our size.

I tamely can endure the first;
Who would not at a crowded show

But this with envy makes me burst.

70 Stand high him:Self, keep others low ?

Thus much may serve by way of proem;

Proceed we therefore to our poem. * Written in November, 1731.-T bere are twa The time is not renvote when I liftin&t poems or ibis fubjeci, one of them conteining Muft by the course of nature die; many Spurious lines. In what is bere printed, the gennine When, I foresee, my special friends

775 parts of betb are preserved. N.

Will try to find their private ends :

I cry,

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And, though 'ris hardly understood

loquire what regimen I kept ; Which way my death can do them good, What gave me ease, and how I slept? 140 Yet thus, methinks, I hear them speak :

And more lament when I was dead, " See how the Dean begins to break! 80 | Than all the snivellers round my bed. « Poor gentleman, he droops apace!

My good companions, never fear; “ You plainly find it in his face.

For, though you may mistake a year, " That old vertigo in his head

Though your prognostics run too fast, 145 « Will never leave him, till he's dead. 85 / They must be verify'd at last. * Besides, his memory decays:

Behold the fatal day arrive ! “ He recolleas not what he says;

“How is the Dean?"2" He's just alive.” " He cannot call his friends to mind;

Now the departing prayer is read; « Forgets the place where last he din'd;

He hardly breathes—The Dean is dead. 150 " Plies you with stories o'er and o'er;

Before the palling-bell begun, “ He told them fifty times before.

90 The news through half the town is run. “ How does he fancy, we can sit

“ Oh! may we all for death prepare ! “ To hear his out-of-fashion wit?

“ What has he left ? and who's his heir ? « But he takes up with you ger folks,

“ I know no more than what the news is; 155 « Who for his wine will bear his jokesa

'Tis all bequeath'd to public uses. " Faith' he must make his stories shorter, 95 “ To public uses! there's a whim ! “ Or change his comrades once a quarter: " What had the public done for him? « In half the time he talks them round, "Mere envý, avarice, and pride: " There must another set be found.

“ He gave it all but first he dy'd. 160 " for poetry, he's past his prime,

“ And had the Dean, in all the nation, « He takes an hour to find a rhyme ;

“ No worthy friend, no poor relation? “ His fire is out, his wit decay'd,

“ So ready to do strangers good, “ His fancy funk, his Muse a jade.

“ Forgetting his own fieth and blood !" « I'd have him throw away his pen;

Now Grub-{treet wits are all employ'd; 165 " But there 's no talking to some men !" With elegies the town is cloy'd :

And then their tenderuess appears 105 Some paragraph in every paper, By adding largely to my years :

To curse the Dean, or bless the Drapier. “ He's older than he would be reckon'd,

The doctors, tender of their fame, « And well remembers Charles the Second. Wisely on me lay all the blame.

170 “ He hardly drinks a pint of wine ;

" We must confess, his case was nice; " And that, I doubt, is no good sign.

“ But he would never take advice. “ His ftomach too begins to fail:

“ Had he been ruld, for aught appears, “ Lalt year we thought him strong and hale; “ He might have liv'd these twenty years: “ But now he's quite another thing :

“ jor, when we open'd him, we found " | with he may hold out till spring !"

That all his vital parts were found." They hug themselves, and reason thus :


From Dublin foon to London spread, " It is not yet so bad with us!”

'Tis told at court, “ The Dean is dead." In such a case, they talk in tropes,

And Lady Suffolk," in the spleen, And by their fears express their hopes.

Runs laughing up to tell the Queen. Some great mistortune to portend,

The Qacen, lo gracious, mild and good, No enemy can match a friend.

120 Cries, “ Is he gone! 'tis time he foould. With all the kindness they profess,

" He 's dead, you fiy; then let him rot. The merit of a lucky guess

“ I'm glad the medals were forgot. (When daily how-d'ye's come of course, “ I promis'd him, I own; but when? And servants answer, “ Worse and worse !") “ I only was the Princess then : Would please them better, than to tell

125 " But now, as consort of the King, That, “ God be prais'd, the Dean is well.” “ You know, 'ris quite another thing." Then he who prophesy'd the bett,

Now Chartres, at Sir Robert's levee, Approves his foresight to the rest :

Tells with a neer the tidings heavy: 19. “ You know I always fear'd the worst,

“ Why, if he dy'd without his shoes," " And often told you so at first.”

130 Cries Bob, " I'm sorry for the news : He'd rather choose that Mould die,

Oh, were the wretch but living still, '} han his predictions prove a lye.

And in his place my good friend Will I Not one foretells I shall recover;

" Or had a mitre on his head,

195 But ail agree to give me over.

“ Provided Bolingbroke were dead!" Yet, should some neighbour feel a pain 135

* Mrs. Harvard, at one time a favourite with the Just in the parts where I complain ;

Dean. N. How many a melage would he send !

+ Wbicb the Dean in vain expected, in return fer What bearty prayers that I should mead!

* small present be bad sentt





Princess. n.



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Now Curll his top from rubbish drains : “ The Dean was famous in his time,
Three genuine tomes of Swift's remains ! i* And had a kind of knack at rhyme.
And then, to make them pass the glibber, “ His way of writing now is paft:
Revis’d by Tibbalds, Moore, and Cibber, 200 “The town has got a better taste.
He 'll creat me as he does my betters,

“ I keep no antiquated fcuff; Publish my will, my life, my letters;

" But spick and 1pan I have enough. Revive the libels born to die:

" Pray, do but give nie leave to fhew 'em: Which Pope m bear, as well as 1.

“ Here's Colley Cibber's birth-day poem. 270 Here shift the scene, to represent

" This ode you never yer have seen, How those I love my death lament.

By Stephen Duck, upon the Queen.
Poor Pope will grieve a month, and Gay " Then here's a letter finely penn'd
A week, and Arbuthnot a day.

“ Against the Craftsinan and his friend : St. John himself will scarce forbear

“ It clearly shews that all reflection 275 To bite his pen, and drop a tear.

210 - On ministers is disaffection. The rest will give a shrug, and cry,

" Next, here's Sir Robert's vindication, "I'm sorry, but we all must die!"

“ And Mr. Henley's last oration. Indifference, clad in Wisdom's guise,

“ The hawkers have riot goc them yet : All fortitude of mind supplies:

" Your Honour please to buy a fet? 280 For how can ftony bowels melt


“ Here's Wolston's tra&s, the twelfth edition; In those who never pity felt!

“ 'Tis read by every politician: When we are lash'd, they kiss the roc,

- The country-members, when in town, Resigning to the will of God.

“ To all their boroughs send them down : The fools, my juniors by a year,

* You never met a thing so smart; 285 Are tortur'd with suspense and fear;

“ The courtiers have them all by heart : Who wisely thought my age a screen,

Those maids of honour who can read, When death approach'd, to ftand between :

" Are taught to use them for their creed. The screen remov'd, their hearts are trembling ;

“ The reverend author's good intention They mourn for me without disenabling.

“ Hath been rewarded with a pension :** 299 My female frends, whose cender hearts 225 “ He doch an honour to his gown, Have better learn'd to act their parts,

By bravely running prief-craft down : Receive the news in doleful dumps :

" He shews, as sure as God's in Glouceiter, “ The Dean is dead : (Pray what is trumps ?)

“ That Mofes was a grand impostor; " Then, Lord have mercy on his soul!

" That all his miracles were cheats,

295 “ (Ladies, I'll venture for the vole.)

230" Peformid as jugglers do their feats: "Six Deans, they fay, must bear the pall :

" The church had never such a writer ; (I wish I knew what king to call.)

A shame he hath not got a mitre !" “ Madam, your husband will attend “ The funeral of so good a friend.

Suppose me dead; and then suppose No, madam, 'tis a shocking fight; 235

A club assembled at the Rose;

300 “ And hc's engay'd to-morrow night:

Where, from discourse of this and that, “ My Lady Club will take it ill,

| grow the subject of their chat. “ If he should fail her at quadrille.

And while they toss my name about, “ He lov'd the Dean-(I lead a heart.)

With favour some, and some without, “ But dearest friends, they say, muit part. 240

One, quite indifferent in the cause,

305 “ His time was come; he ran his race;

My character impartial draws. “ We hope he's in a better place.”

The Dean, if we believe report, Why do we grieve that friends skould dic?

" Was never ill receiv'd at court, No loss more caly to supply.

“ Although, ironically grave, One year is palt; a different scene !


" He shamid the fool, and lash'd the knave; 310 No farther mention of the Dean,

“ To steal a hint was never known, Who now, alas ! no more is mifs d,

" But what he writ was all his own." Than if he never did exift.

“ Sir, I have heard another story; Where's now the favourite of Apollo?

" He was a more confrunied Tory, Departed;—and his works muft follow; 250

" And grew, or he is mich belyd,

315 Must undergo the common fate;

“ Extreniely dull, before he dy'd." His kind of wit is out of date.

“ Can we the Drapier then forget? Some country squire to Lintot gnes,

“ Is not our nation his debt Inquires for Swife in verse and prosc.

'Twas he that writ the Drapier's letters!", Says Lintot, “ I have heard the name;


“ He should have left them for his betters; 320 “ He dy'd a year ago." - " The same."

" We had a hundred abler men, He searches all the shop in vain.

“ Nor need depend upon his pen. “ Sir, you may find them in Duck-lane : “ Say what you will about his reading, “ I sent them with a load of books,

" You never can defend his breeding ; “ Last Monday, to the pastry-cook's. 260 “ Who, in his futires running rior,

325 “ To fancy they could live a year!

" Could never leave the world in quiet; “ I find you 're but a stranger hure.

* Wolfton is bore confeunded with Woolaflor. N.

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* Attacking, when he took the wbim,

“ Though trusted long in great affairs, Court, city, camp-all one to him.

" He gave himself no haughty airs : “ By why would he, except he pubber'd, “ Without regarding private ends, 395 « Offend our patriot, great Sir Robert,

330 Spent all his credit for his friends; " Whose counsels aid the sovereign power “ And only chose the wise and good; “ To save the nation every hour!

“ No flatterers; no allies in blood; What scenes of evil he unravels

“ But succour'd virtue in distress, " In satires, bibels, lying Travels;

“ And seldom fail'd of good success; 400 “ Not sparing his own clergy cloth,


“ As numbers in their hearts must own, “ But eats into it, like a motb!"

" Who, but for him, had been unknown. “ Perhaps I may allow the Dean " Had too much fauire in his vcin,

“ He kept with princes due decorum; " And seeni'd determind not to starve it,

" Yet never stood in awe before 'em. “ Because no age could more deferve it.

" He follow'd David's lesson just; 340

405 * Yet malice never was his aim;

In princes never put his trust : “ He lafi'd the vice, but spar'd the name.

" And, would you make him truly sour, “ No individual could resent,

“ Provoke him with a slave in power. Where thousands equally were meint:

“ The Irish fenate if you nam'd, “ His fatire points at no defcet,

" With what impatience he declaim'd! 345

410 " But what all mortals may correct;

“ Fair Liberty was all his cry; « For he abhor'd the senseless tribe

“ For her he stond prepar'd to die; & Who call it humour when they gibe :

" For her he boldly stood alone; “ He spar'd a hump, or crooked nole,

“ For her he oft' expos'd his own. " Whole owners set not up for beaux. 350

“ Two kingdoms, just as faction led, 415 “ True genuine dulness mov'd his pity,

“ Had set a price upon his head; « Unless it offer'd to be witty.

But not a traitor could be found, “ Those who their ignorance cenfelt,

" To sell him for fix hundred pound, * He ne'er off:nded with a jeft;

“ Had he but spar’d his tongue and pen, “ But laugh'd to hear an idiot quote 355 “ He might have rose like other men: 420 A verse from Horace learn'd by rote.

p“ But power was never in his thought, « Vice, if it e'er can be abash'd,

" And wealth he valued not a groat : “ Must be or ridicul'd, or laf'd.

“ Ingratitude he often found, “ If you resent it, who 's to blame?

" And picy'd those who meant the wound; “ He neither knows you, nor your name. 360" But kept the tenor of his mind, “ Should vice exped to 'scape rebuke,

“ To merit well of human-kind; Because its owner a duke?

“ Nor made a sacrifice of those “ His friendships, still to few confind,

" Who still were true, to please his foes. “ Were always of the middling kind;

“ He labour'd many a fruitless hour, « No fools of rank, or mungrel breed, 365 « To reconcile his friends in power;

430 “ Who fain would pass for lords indeed : “ Saw mischief by a faction brewing, " Where titles give no right or power,

" While they pursued each other's ruin. “ And peerage is a wither'd flower ;

“ But, fmding vain was all his care, " He would have deem'd it a disgrace, “ He left the court in mere despair. • If such a wretch had known his face. 370

" And, oh! how short are human schemes! 435 « On rural squires, that kingdo.n's bane, # He vented oft' his wrath in vain :

" Here ended all our golden dreams. squires to market brought,

“ What St. John's kill in state affairs, * Who sell their souls and *

r. for nought :

“ What Orniond's valour, Oxford's cares,

“ To save their finking country lent,
« The **** ****
go joyful back,

“ Was all destroy'd by one event.

440 “ To rob the church, their tenants rack; “ Go fnacks with ****** jufticos,

“ Too soon that precious life was ended,

“ On which alone our weal depended, " and keep the peace to pick up fees;

" When up a dangerous faction Itarts, “ In every jobb to have a ftare, “ A gaol or curupike to repair;

“ With wrath and vengeance in their hearts ;

380 6 And turn to public roads

“ By solemn league and covenant brand, " Commodicus to their own abodes.

“ Toruin, laughter, and confound;

“ To turn religion to a fable, He never thought an honour done him,

“ And make the government a Babel; " Becauí: a peer was proud to own hin, “ Would rather flip aside, and choose

“ Pervert the laws, disgrace the gown, 385

“ Corrupt the fenate, rob the crown; a To talk with wits in dirty inces; rr And icorn the tools with stars and garters,

“ To facrifice Old England's glory,

" And make her infamous in story : so often sen carefsing Char:res.

“ When such a tempest shook the land, He never courted men in station,

“ How could unguarded virtue stand! cor peri'ns he'1 in admiration;

390 iri's greatness was afraid,

“ With horror, grief, despair, the Dean Lughi for no ivan's aid.

“ Beheld the dire destructive scene :

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