Your cafe confider'd, I must think
You should withdraw from pen and ink,
Forbear your poetry and jokes,
And live like other Christian folks ;
Or, if the Muses must inspire
Your fancy with their pleafing fire,
Take fubjects fafer for your wit
Than thofe on which you lately writ.
Commend the times, your thoughts correct,
And follow the prevailing sect;
Affert, that Hyde *, in writing story,
Shews all the malice of a Tory;
While Burnet †, in his deathless page,
Discovers freedom without rage.
To Woolfton recommend our youth,
For learning, probity, and truth;
That noble genius, who unbinds
The chains which fetter free-born minds;
Redeems us from the flavish fears
Which lafted near two thousand years ;;
He can alone the priesthood humble,
Make gilded spires and ́altars tumble.
Muft I commend against my confcience
Such ftupid blafphemy and nonsense ?
*Edward Hyde, the firft earl of Clarendon, who wrote the History of the Civil Wars. N.
†The celebrated Bp. of Salisbury. N.
A degraded clergyman of the church of England, who wrote against the miracles of Christ. N.
To fuch a fubject tune my lyre,
And fing like one of Milton's choir,
Where devils to a vale retreat,
And call the laws of Wisdom Fate,
Lament upon their hapless fall,
That Force free Virtue should enthrall?
Or fhall the charms of Wealth and Power
Make me pollute the Mufes' bower?
As from the tripod of Apollo,
Hear from my desk the words that follow : "Some, by philofophers misled,
"Muft honour you alive and dead;
"And fuch as know what Greece hath writ,
"Muft taste your irony and wit;
"Whilst most that are, or would be great,
"Muft dread your pen, your perfon hate;
"And you on Drapier's * hill must lie,
"And there without a mitre die."
ON BURNING A DULL POEM. 1729.
Nafs's hoof alone can hold
That poisonous juice, which kills by cold. Methought, when I this poem read,
No veffel but an afs's head
*In the county of Armagh; where Dr. Swift, in the year 1729, had fome thoughts of building; as appears by feveral of the following Poems. N.
Such frigid fuftian could contain;
I mean, the head without the brain.
The cold conceits, the chilling thoughts,
Went down like ftupifying draughts:
I found my head began to swim,
A numbness crept through every limb.
In hafte, with imprecations dire,
I threw the volume in the fire:
When (who could think?) though cold as ice,
It burnt to afhes in a trice.
How could I more enhance its fame?
Though born in snow, it dy'd in flame.
HIS EXCELLENCY JOHN LORD CARTERET.
BY DR. DELANY. 1729.
"Credis ob hoc, me, Paftor, opes fortaffe rogare,
"Propter quod, vulgus, craffaque turba rogat."
MART. Epig. lib. ix.
THOU wife and learned ruler of our ifle,
Whofe guardian care can all her griefs beguile;
When next your generous foul shall condefcend
T' inftruct or entertain your humble friend;
Whether, retiring from your weighty charge,
On fome high theme you learnedly enlarge;
Of all the ways of wisdom reason well,
How Richelieu rofe, and how Sejanus fell :
Or, when your brow less thoughtfully unbends,
Circled with Swift and fome delighted friends;
When, mixing mirth and wifdom with your wine,
Like that your wit fhall flow, your genius fhine;
Nor with lefs praise the converfation guide,
Than in the public councils you decide:
Or when the Dean, long privileg'd to rail,
Afferts his friend with more impetuous zeal;
You hear (whilst I fit by abash'd and mute),
With foft conceffions fhortening the difpute;
Then close with kind enquiries of my state,
"How are your tithes, and have they rose of late?
"Why, Chrift-Church is a pretty fituation,
"There are not many better in the nation!
"This, with your other things, must yield you
"Some fix-at least five hundred pounds a year."
Suppofe, at fuch a time, I took the freedom
To speak these truths as plainly as you read 'em
(You fhall rejoin, my lord, when I've replied,
And, if you please, my lady fhall decide):
My lord, I'm fatisfied you meant me well; "And that I'm thankful, all the world can tell : "But you 'll forgive me, if I own th' event "Is fhort, is very fhort, of your intent;
"At least, I feel some ills unfelt before,
My income lefs, and my expences more." "How, doctor! double vicar! double rector! "A dignitary! with a city lecture!
"What glebes-what dues-what tithes-what fines
"Why, doctor!-will you never be content?"
"Would my good lord but caft up the account,
"And fee to what my revenues amount
"My titles ample! but my gain so small,
"That one good vicarage is worth them all :
"And very wretched fure is he, that's double
"In nothing but his titles and his trouble.
"Add to this crying grievance, if you please,
My horfes founder'd on Fermanah ways; "Ways of well-polish'd and well-pointed stone, "Where every ftep endangers every bone; "And, more to raise your pity and your wonder, "Two churches-twelve Hibernian miles afunder! "With complicated cures, I labour hard in,
"Befides whole fummers abfent from my garden !—
"But that the world would think I play'd the fool,
"I'd change with Charley Grattan for his fchool-
"What fine cascades, what viftos, might I make,
"Fixt in the centre of th' Iernian lake!
"There might I fail delighted, smooth and safe,
"Beneath the conduct of my good Sir Ralph† :
"There's not a better steerer in the realm;
"I hope, my lord, you'll call him to the helm."—
"Doctor-a glorious scheme to ease your grief!
"When cures are crofs, a fchool's a fure relief.
* A free-school at Inniskillen, founded by Erafmus Smith, efq. N.
+ Sir Ralph Gore, who had a villa in the lake of Erin.
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