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+ TN spite of Pope, in spite of Gay,
And all that he

Sing on I muft, and fing I will
Of Richmond-Lodge, and Marble-Hill.
Last Friday night, as neighbours use,

This couple met to talk of news :
For by old proverbs it appears,
That walls have tongues, and hedges ears.

Marble-H. Quoth Marble-Hill, Right well I ween,
Your mistress now is grown a queen:

You'll find it foon by woful proof;
She'll come no more beneath


Richmond-L. The kingly prophet well evinces,
That we should put no trust in princes:
My royal master promis'd me

To raise me to a high degree ;
But now he's grown a king God' wot,
I fear I fall be soon forgot.
You see, when folks have got their ends,
How quickly they neglect their friends ;

Yet I may say, 'twixt me and you,
Pray God they now may find as true.

Marble-H. My house was built but for a show,
My lady's empty pockets know;
And now she will' not have a shilling
To raise the stairs, or build the ceiling i
For all the courtly madams round
Now pay four shillings in the pound;
'Tis come to what I always thought :
My dame is hardly worth a groat.

and I been courtiers born,
We should not thus have lain forlorn :
For thole we dextrous courtiers call,
Can rise


their master's fall. + This poem was carried to court, and road to the King and Queen.



my no


But we unlucky and unwise

35 Muft fall, because our masters rise.

Richmond-L. My master fcarce a fortnight since
Was grown as wealthy as a prince ;
But now it will be no such thing,
For he'll be poor as any king :
And by his crown will nothing get,
But like a king to run in debt.
Marble-H. No more the Dean, that


divine, Shall keep the key of My icehouse rob, as heretofore,

45 And steal my artichoaks no more ; Poor Patty Blount no more be seen Bedraggled in my walks fo green: Plump Johnny Gay will now elope ; And here no more will dangle Pape.

Richmond-L. Here wont the Dean, when he's to seek, To spunge a breakfait once a week; To cry

the bread was Atale, and mutter Complaints against the royal butter. But now I fear it will be said,

55 No butter sticks upon his bread. We foon shall find him full of spleen, For want of tattling to the Queen ; Stunning her royal ears with talking ; His Pep'rence and her Highness walking

be! Whilft Lady Charlotte*, like a stroller, Sits mounted on the garden-roller. A goodly fight to see her ride With ancient Mirmont + at her side. 'In velvet


his head lies warm His hat for show beneath his arm.


Lady Charlotte de Rously, a French lady. † Marquis de Mirmont, a Frenchman of quality.

Marble-H. Some South-sea broker from the city
Will purchase me, the more's the pity;
Lay all my fine plantations waste
To fit them to his vulgar taste ;

70 Chang'd for the worse in ev'ry part, My master Pope will break his. heart.

Richmond-L. In my own Thames may I be drowndIf e'er I stoop beneath a crown'd head : [ed, Except her Majesty prevails

75 To place me with the Prince of Wales ; And then I shall be free from fears, For he'll be Prince these fifty years. I then will turn a courtier too, And serve the times, as others do.

82 Plain loyalty, not built on hope, I leave to your contriver, Pope: None loves his king and country better, Yet none was ever less their debtor.

Marble-H. Then let him come and take a nap 85 In summer on my verdant lap: Prefer our villa's, where the Thames is, To Kensington, or hot St James's ; Nor shall I dull in silence fit; For 'tis to me he owes his wit: My groves, my echoes, and


Have taught him his poetic words.
We gardens, and you wildernesses,
Aflift all poets in distresses.
Him twice a-week I here expect;

To rattle Moody + for neglect;
An idle rogue, who spends his quartridge
In tipling at the dog and partridge;
And I can hardly get him down
Three times a-week to brush my gown.



* The gardener.

Richmond-L. I pity you, dear Marble-Hill ;
But hope to see you fourish still.
All happiness -- and fo adieu.

Marble H. Kind Richmond-Lodge, the fame to you,


Written in the year 1727.

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'Tis strange, what diff'rent thoughts inspire

In men, poffeffion and defire !
Think what they wilh so great a blefling;
So disappointed when possefling!

A moralist profoundly fage,
I know not in what book or page,
Or whether o'er a pot of ale,
Related thus the following tale.

Pelefon, and defire his brother,
But still at variance with each other,
Were seen contending in a race ;
And kept at first an equal pace :
'Tis said, their course.continu'd long ;
For this was active, that was strong :
Till envy, flander, noth, and doubt,
Misled them many a league about.
Seduc'd by fome deceiving light,
They take the wrong way for the right:
Thro' slipp'ry by roads dark and deep
They often climb, and often creep.

Desire, the swifter of the two,
Along the plain like lightning flew :
Till entring on a broad highway,
Where power and rules scatter'd lay,
He strove to pick up all he found,
And by excursions loft his ground:






No sooner got, than with disdain
He threw them on the ground again ;
And hasted forward to pursue
Fresh objects fairer to his view ;

In hope to spring fome nobler game ;
But all he took was just the same:
Too fcornful now to stop his pace,
He spurn'd them in his rival's face.
Polefion kept the beaten road;

35 And gather'd all his brother strow'd; But overcharg'd, and out of wind, Tho' strong in limbs, he lagg'd behind.

Defire had now the goal in sight: It was a tow'r of monstrous height; Where on the summit Fortune stands, A crown and sceptre in her hands ; Beneath a chasm as deep as hell, Where many a bold advent'rer fell. Defire in rapture gaz'd a while,

45 And saw the treach'rous goddess smile; But as he climb’d to grasp the crown, She knock'd him with the sceptre down. He tumbled in the golf profound; There doom'd to whirl an endless round.

50 Poleffion's load was grown fo great, He sunk beneath the cumb'rous weight: And as he now expiring lay, Flocks ev'ry ominous bird of prey ; The raven, vulture, owl, and kite, At once upon his carcase light, And strip his hide, and pick his bones, Regardless of his dying groans.


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