Our prefent fchemes are too profound,
For MACHIAVEL himfelf to found:
To cenfure 'em I've no pretenfion;
I own they're paft my comprehenfion.
You fay, your brother wants a place, 'Tis many a younger brother's cafe) And that he very foon intends
To ply the court, and teaze his friends.
If there his merits chance to find
A patriot of an open mind,
Whose constant actions prove him just
To both a king's and people's truft;
May he, with gratitude attend,
And owe his rife to fuch a friend.
You praife his parts, for bus'nefs fit,
His learning, probity, and wit;
But thofe alone will never do,
I've heard of times (pray God defend us,
We'ere not fo good but he can mend us)
When wicked minifters have trod
On kings and people, law and God;
With arrogance they girt the throne,
And knew no int'reft but their own.
Then virtue, from preferment barr'd,
Gets nothing but its own reward.
A gang of petty knaves attend 'em,
With proper parts to recommend 'em.
Then if his patron burn with luft,
The firft in favour's pimp the first.
His doors are never clos'd to fpies,
Who chear his heart with double lies,
They flatter him, his foes defame,
So lull the pangs of guilt and fhame.
If fchemes of lucre haunt his brain,
Projectors fwell his greedy train;
Vile brokers ply his private ear
With jobs of plunder for the year;
All confciences must bend and ply;
You must vote on, and not know why:
Through thick and thin you must go on;
One fcruple, and your place is gone.
Since plagues like these have curst a land,
And fav'rites cannot always ftand
Good courtiers fhould for change be ready,
And not have principles too fteady:
For fhould a knave engrofs the pow'r.
(God shield the realm from that fad hour)
He must have rogues, or flavish fools:
For what's a knave without his tools?
Wherever thofe a people drain,
And ftrut with infamy and gain;
I envy not their guilt and ftate,
And scorn to fhare the public hate.
Let their own fervile creatures rife
By fcreening fraud, and venting lies;
Give me, kind heav'n, a private station",
A mind ferene for contemplation:
Title and profit I refign;
The poft of honour shall be mine.
My fable read, their merits view,
Then herd who will with fuch a crew,
In days of yore (my cautious rhymes
Always except the present times)
A greedy Vulture skill'd in game,
Inur'd to guilt, unaw'd by fhame,
Approach'd the throne in evil hour,
And step by step intrudes to pow'r;
When at the royal eagle's ear,
He longs to ease the monarch's care.
The monarch grants. With pride elate,
Behold him minifter of ftate!
Around him throng the feather'd rout;
Friends must be ferv'd, and some must out.
Each thinks his own the best pretenfion;
This afks a place, and that a penfion.
The nightingale was fet afide, A forward daw his room fupply'd.
-When impious men bear fway,
The Poft of Honour is a private ftation?
This bird (fays he) for bus'nefs fit,
Hath both fagacity and wit.
With all his turns, and fhifts and tricks,
He's docile, and at nothing sticks.
Then with his neighbours, one so free
At all times will connive at me.
The hawk had due diftinction shown,
For parts and talents like his own.
Thousands of hireling cocks attend him, As bluft'ring bullies, to defend him.
At once the ravens were discarded,
And magpies with their pofts rewarded.
Thofe fowls of omen I deteft,
That pry into another's neft,
State lies muft lofe all good intent;
For they forefee and croak th' event.
My friends ne'er think, but talk by rote,
Speak what they're taught, and fo to vote.
When rogues like thefe (a fparrow cries)
To honours and employments rife,]
I court no favour, ask no place;
For fuch preferment is disgrace.
Within my thatch'd retreat I find
(What these ne'er feel) true peace of mind.
The BABOON and the POULTRY.
WE frequently misplace efteem,
By judging men by what they feem.
To birth, wealth, pow'r, we should allow
Precedence, and our lowest bow.
In that is due diftinction fhown,
Efleem is virtue's right alone.
With partial eye we're apt to fee
The man of noble pedigree.
We're prepoffeft my lord inherits
In fome degree his grandfire's merits;
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