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And as their heels elated rise,
Their heads attempt the neither ikies.
O, what indignity and thane,
To prostitute the mute's name?
By flatt'ring k-s, whom heav'n design'd
The plagues and scourges of mankind;
Bred up in ignorai:ce and floth,
And ev'ry vice that nurses both.
Fair Britain, in thy monarch bleit,
Whose virtues bear the stricteft teit;
Whom never faction could be patter,
Nor minister por poet flatter?
What justice in rewarding merit!
Whiat magnanimity of fpirit !
What lineaments divine we trace
Through all his figure, mien, and face !
Though peace with olive bind his hands,
Confess d the conqu’ring hero stands.
Hydafpes, Indus, and the Ganges *,
Dread from bis hand io pending changes.
From him the Tartar and Chinefe,
Short by the knees intreat for peace t.
The confort of his throne and bed,
A perfect goddess born and bred,
Appointed fou'reign judge to fit
On learning, eloquence, and wit.
Our eldest hope, divine lülus,
(Late, very late, O may he rule us !)
What early manhood has he shown,
Before his downy beard was grown!
Then think what wonders will be done
By going on as he begun,
An heir for Britain to fecure
As long as fun and moon endure.
The remnant of the royal blood Comes pouring on me like a flood. Bright goddefies in number five ; Duke William, sweetest prince alive.
Now fing the minister of state 1,
Who shines alone without a mate.
Observe with what majestic port
This. Atlas stands to prop the court :
Intent the public debts to pay,
Like prudent Fabius *, by delay,
Thou great vicegerent of the King,
Thy praises every mufe shall fing
In all affairs thou sole director,
Of wit and learning chief protector ;
Though small the time thou haste to spare,
The church is thy peculiar care.
Of pious prelates what a stock
You chuse to rule the sable flock !
You raise the honour of the peerage,
Proud to attend you at the steerage.
You dignify the noble race,
Content yourself with humbler place.
Now learning, valour, virtue, fenfe,
To citles give the fole pretence.
St. George beheld thee with delight
Vouchsafe to be an azure knight,
When on thy breast and fides Herculean
He fix'd the star and string cerulean.
Say, poet, in what other nation Shone ever such a constellation !
I Sir Robert Walpole, afterwards Earl of Orford, * " Unus homo nobis cunctando restituit rem,"
Attend ye Popes, and Youngs, and Gays,
And tune your harps, and strow your bays :
Your panegyrics here provide; .
You cannot err on flatt’ry's side.
Above the stars exalt your stile,
You still are low ten thousand mile.
On Lewis all his bards beltow'd
Of incense many a thousand load;
But Europe mortify'd his pride,
And swore the fawning rascals ly’d.
Yet what the world refus’d to Lewis,
Apply'd to George exactly true is.
Exactly true! invidious poet!
'Tis fifty thousand times below it.
Translate me now some lines, if you can,
From Virgil, Martial, Ovid, Lucan.
They could all pow'r in heav'n divide,
And do no wrong to either side;
They teach you how to split a hair,
Give G eand Jove an equal share *.
Yet why should we be lace'd so strait ?
I'll give my m -n-ch butter-weight.
And reason good ; for many a year
Jove never intemeddled here;
Nor though his priests be duly paid,
Did ever we defire his aid :
We now can better do ithout him,
Since Woolston gave us arins to rout him,
** Cætera desiderantur. *
* " Divisum imperium cum Jove Cæsar habit.
A Character, Panegyric, and Description of
the LEGION-CLUB †.
S I stroll the city, oft I
See a building large and lofty,
Not a bow-fhot from the college ;
Half the globe from fenfe and knowledge ;
By the prudent architect
Place'd against the church direct,
Making good my grandame's jest,
Near the church 1-you know the rest.
Tell us what the pile contains ?
Many a that holds no brains.
These demoniacs let me dub
With the name of Legion-club.
Such assemblies, you might swear,
Meet when butchers bait a bear;
Such a noise. and such haranguing,
When a brother thief is hanging :
Such a rout and such a rabble
Run to hear Jack pudding gabble ;
Such a croud their ordure throws
On a far less villain's nose.
Could I from the building's top Hear the rattling thunder drop,
+ I have written a very masterly poem on the legion club-it is 240 lines.
The Dean complains, in letter 132. that oiher characters were added, ani in letter 133. ;hat there were 50 different copies ; tu: his confists of just 240 lines, and has every o ner mark of a genuine copy
-N. B. Mr. Hawkerunr. hh si unbered the lines of this poem too little by two. It consists of 242 lines. 1 Tie nearer the chuic.i, the fariher from God.
While the devil upon the roof
(If the devil be thunder-proof)
Should with poker fiery red
Crack the stones, and melt the lead ;
Drive them down on ev'ry scull,
While the den of thieves is full,
Quite destroy that harpie's neft,
How might then our isle be blest!
For divines allow that God
Sometimes makes the devil his rod;
And the gospel will inform us,
He can punish fins enormous.
Yet should Swift endow the schools
For his lunatics and fools,
With a rood or two of land,
I allow the pile may stand.
You perhaps will ask me, Why so ?
But it is with this proviso':-
Since the house is like to last.
Let the royal grant be pass’d,
That the club have right to dwell
Each within his proper cell,
With a passage left to creep in,
And a hole above for peeping.
Let them, when they once get in,
Sell the nation for a pin :
While they fit a picking straws,
Let them rave at making laws ;
While they never hold their tongue,
Let them dabble in their dung ;
Let them form a grand committee,
How to plague and serve the city ;
Let them ftare, and storin, and frown,
When they see a clergy-gown ;
Let them, ere they crack a louse,
Call for the orders of the house ;