And now the duke has wifely ta'en him
To be his architect at Blenheim.
But, raillery for once a-part,

If this rule holds in ev'ry art;

Or if his grace were no more skill'd in
The art of batt'ring walls than building,
We might expect to fee next year
A mouse-trap man chief engineer.

THE

VIRTUES OF SID HAMET

ΤΗ

THE

MAGICIAN's ROD.

Written in 1712.

HE rod was but a harmless wand, While Mofes held it in his hand ; But, foon as e'er he laid it down, 'Twas a devouring ferpent grown. Our great magician, Hamet Sid, Reverses what the prophet did: His rod was honeft English wood, That fenfeless in a corner ftood,

rough.

The duke of Marlbo

Godolphin, which, on the 29th of May 1711, was given to Robert Harley, earl of Oxford. G 3

The ftaff of lord treasurer

Till,

Till, metamorphos'd by his grafp,
It grew an all-devouring afp;
Wou'd hifs, and fting, and roll, and twist,
By the mere virtue of his fift;
But, when he laid it down, as quick
Refum'd the figure of a stick.

So to her midnight feast the hag
Rides on a broomstick for a nag,
That, rais'd by magick of her breech,
O'er fea and land conveys the witch;
But with the morning dawn refumes
The peaceful state of common brooms,
They tell us fomething ftrange and odd
About a certain magick rod,

That bending down its top, divines
Whene'er the foil has golden mines
Where there are none, it stands erect,
Scorning to fhew the least respect:
As ready was the wand of Sid
To bend where golden mines were hid;
In Scottish hills found precious ore
re*,
Where none e'er look'd for it before;

The virgula divina, or divining rod, is defcribed to be a forked branch of a hazel or willow, two feet and an half long it is to be held in the palms of the hands with the Angle end elevated about eighty degrees; and in this

pofition is faid to be attracted by minerals and fprings, fo as by a forcible inclination to direct where they are to be found.

d Suppofed to allude to the union of the two kingdoms.

And by a gentle bow divin'd
How well a cully's purfe was lin'd;
To a forlorn and broken rake,
Stood without motion, like a stake.

The rod of Hermes was renown'd For charms above and under ground; To fleep could mortal eye-lids fix, And drive departed fouls to Styx. That rod was just a type of Sid's, Which o'er a British fenate's lids Could scatter opium full as well, And drive as many fouls to hell. Sid's rod was flender, white, and tall, Which oft he us'd to fish withal; A plaife was faften'd to the hook, And many score of gudgeons took : Yet still so happy was his fate, He caught his fish, and fav'd his bait. Sid's brethren of the conj'ring tribe A circle with their rod defcribe, Which proves a magical redoubt To keep mifchievous spirits out. Sid's rod was of a larger ftride, And made a circle thrice as wide, Where Spirits throng'd with hideous din,

And he ftood there to take them in : But, when th' enchanted rod was broke, They vanish'd in a stinking smoke.

G4

Achilles'

Achilles' fceptre was of wood,
Like Sid's, but nothing near fo good;
That down from ancestors divine
Tranfmitted to the hero's line,

Thence, thro' a long descent of kings,
Came an heir-loom, as Homer fings.
Though this description look fo big,
That fceptre was a faplefs twig,
Which from the fatal day, when first
It left the foreft where 'twas nurs'd,
As Homer tells us o'er and o'er,
Nor leaf, nor fruit, nor bloffom bore.
Sid's fceptre, full of juice, did shoot
In golden boughs, and golden fruit;
And he, the dragon, never fleeping,
Guarded each fair Hefperian pippin,
No hobby-horfe, with gorgeous top,
The deareft in Charles Mather's fhop,
Or glitt❜ring tinfel of May-fair,
Could with this rod of Sid compare.

Dear Sid, then why wer't thou so mad
To break thy rod like naughty lad? ·
You shou'd have kifs'd it in your distress,
And then return'd it to your mistress;
Or made it a Newmarket fwitch,
And not a rod for thy own breech.
But, fince old Sid has broken this,
His next may be a rod in pifs.

An eminent toyman in Fleet-ftreet.

ATLAS;

OR, THE

MINISTER OF STATE.

TO THE

LORD TREASURER OXFORD.

TLAS, we read in ancient fong,
Was fo exceeding tall and ftrong,

He bore the skies upon his back,
Just as a pedlar does his pack:
But, as a pedlar overprefs'd
Unloads upon a ftall to reft,
Or, when he can no longer ftand,
Defires a friend to lend a hand;
So Atlas, left the pond'rous fpheres
Shou'd fink, and fall about his ears,
Got Hercules to bear the pile,
That he might fit and reft a while,
Yet Hercules was not fo ftrong,
Nor could have borne it half fo long.
Great statesmen are in this condition;
And Atlas is a politician,

A premier minifter of state;

Alcides one of fecond rate.

Suppose then Atlas ne'er fo wife,
Yet when the weight of kingdoms lies
Too long upon his fingle fhoulders,
Sink down he muft, or find upholders.

THE