« ПредишнаНапред »
With those that at the Noon-tide came, At Night receiv'd the very fame. South-Sea is meant a Publick Good, (Or so we'd have it understood) Then where's the Good, if none must share, But such as are grown Wealthy there! Must only then the Rich engross, The Publick Wealth to Publick Loss? They cannot fare be fo uncivil, Monopolizing is the Devil, For as the wise Lord Bacon said, Wealth's but a Dunghil till 'tis spread, But when the gen'rous Donor's Hand Scatters it
and down the Land, He, like the Sun, does Life restore To such as were half dead before. True, I no Liberty can boast, Or claim Subscription by my Poft; Yet serve the King as well as They, Who lave the South Sea ev'ry Day. 'Tis fit they first my Betters serve, But most unfit that I should starve ; Forbid it, Heay'n to Foy apply, Come, Write, I say, thy Fortune try; At worst he only can deny. From Gen'rous FELL Ows all Obtain, And KNIGHT was never ask'd in Vain:
Think you his Soul, In fuch Affairs,
To whom you sué, less great than theirs
Come, Girl, to animate thy Pen,
I vow to be the best of MEN;
If you prevail, I'll henceforth prove
As faithful as a Turtle-Dove;
Neyer hereafter will offend,
With either Male or Female Friend:
Write you to whom, or what you will,
Faith, I shall conftrue nothing Ill;
Dress as you please, in Silk or Sattin,
Wear Tissue-Clog, or Velvet-Pattin;
In this, if you advance my State,
I'll be your conftant Loving Mate.
He said ! and saying, kiss'd me twice,
Then I resoly'd on't in a trice.
For, ah! what She, when promis'd lo,
Would not do all that the could do?
At this, or t'other, neyer Stumble,
To make her Husband Kind
Strait to my Desk I hied me then,
Folded my Paper,
my The first I ever made, I vow; Grant it may prove but Lucky now;
And that my Muse so well may plead, ,
My Cause may please you, when you'read,
For if you're pleas'd, I muft fucceed.
Then round the World I'll fing thy Fame,
And tell the Age to come thy Name.
For shall resound from ev'ry Tongue,
And South-sea be, like Tagus; sung.
200XHAT GOD s sometimes, incognito
Convers'd with Mortals long ago,
(As by my. Grandame I am told,
The KING and COBLER did of old)
Is what I rather will suppose
Than prove; since Logick is but Prose.
Believe ye, therefore, That, one Night, E'er Moon was made to give us Light.
Before the Moon was made! ------ That's pleasant;
Some forward Critick crys. At present,
I beg your Leave, Sir, to go on:
You shall be satisfy'd anon.
Well! ----- Jove, it seems, had now Patrol'd
All Day; and Hungry, Wet and Cold,
In such an Ancient Night was trudging,
To find some House, and ask for Lodging.
At length a Mastiff-Dog he heard,
Rending his Throat in Farmer's Yard.
His God-Mhip, long 'twixt Hope and Fear,
At last took Courage, and drew near :
When ftrait the Dog (whether by Smell,
These Animals a God can tell,
Who knows) however fawn'd upon him;
And wag'd his Tail, as if he'd known him.
Thus Pious Elephants we see,
Adore the Hoft, with bended Knec;
And Carriers Horses view, with Dread
The Devil driving without Head.
By which Examples we may ken,
Some Beasts are as devout as Men.
The Farmer now came to the Door,
(An honeft civil Man, tho' Poor)
And kindly ask'd him his Request,
Fave told his Case, and spoke his beft: