And be affur'd the court will find him
Prepar'd to leap o'er fticks, or bind 'em.

To make the bundle ftrong and safe,
Great Ormond, lend thy gen'ral's staff;
And, if the crofier could be cramm'd in.
A fig for Lechmere, King, and Hambden.
You'll then defy the ftrongest Whig
With both his hands to bend a twig.
Though with united ftrength they all pull
From Somers down to Craggs and Walpole.

45

50

**2*********&*&**&*&*£*&*&*&*&

The

AUTHOR upon himself.
Written in the year 1713,

A few of the first lines were wanting in the copy fent. us by a friend of the author's.

an old

Y ar

purfu'd

A crazy prelate, and a royal prudé †;:
By dull divines, who look with envious eyes,
On ev'ry genius that attempts to rife;
And paufing o'er a pipe with doubtful nod,
Give hints, that poets ne'er believe in God;,
So clowns on fcholars as on wizards look,
And take a folio for a conj'ring book ‡.

* Dr. Sharp,, Archbishop of York.

Her late Majefty Queen Anne,

1 Archbishop Sharp, according to Dr. Swift's acconnt, had reprefen ed him to the Queer as a perfon that was not a Chriftian: a great lady had fupported the afperfion; and the Queen, upon fuch a lurances, had given away the bishopric contrary to her Majesty's ft atentions, which were in favour of Dr. Swift, Orrery.

Swift had the fin of wit, no venial crime;

Nay, 'tis affirm'd, he fometimes dealt in rhyme; 10
Humour and mirth had place in all he writ;
He reconcil'd divinity and wit:

[grace;

15

He mov'd, and bow'd, and talk'd, with too much
Nor fhew'd the parfon in his gait or face;
Defpis'd luxurious wines, and costly meat;
Yet ftill was at the tables of the great;
Frequented lords; faw thofe that faw the Queen;
At Child's or Truby's * never once had been ;
Where town and country vicars flock in tribes,
Secur'd by numbers from the laymens gibes,
And deal in vices of the graver fort,
Tobacco, cenfure, coffee, pride, and port.

But after fage monitions from his friends,
His talents to employ for nobler ends;
To better judgements willing to fubmit,
He turns to politics his dangerous wit.

And now the public interest to support,
By Harley Swift invited comes to court;
In favour grows with minifters of state;
Admitted private, when fuperiors wait:
And Harley, not asham'd his choice to own,
Takes him to Windfor in his coach alone.
At Windfor Swift no fooner can appear,
But St. John + comes and whispers in his ear:
The waiters ftand in ranks; the yeomen cry,
"Make room," as if a Duke were paffing by.

20

25

30

35

Now Finch alarms the Lords: he hears for cer

tain

This dang'rous prieft is got behind the curtain.

* A coffeehouse and tavern near St. Paul's, at that time much fre. quented by the clergy.

Then Secretary of State, afterwards Lord Bolingbroke.

The late Earl of Nottingham, who made a fpeech in the house of Lords against the author.

Finch, fam'd for tedious elocution, proves
That Swift oils many a fpring which Harley moves.
Walpole and Aiflabie, to clear the doubt,
Inform the Commons, that the fecret's out:
"A certain doctor is obferv'd of late
"To haunt a certain minifter of state:

4F

"From whence with half an eye we may discover 45 "The peace is made, and Perkin must come over."

York is from Lambeth fent to fhew the Queen A dangerous treatise writ against the spleen *; Which, by the style, the matter, and the drift, 'Tis thought could be the work of none but Swift. Poor York! the harmless tool of others hate;

He fues for pardon †, and repents too late.

Now,

her vengeance vows

On Swift's reproaches for her

51

From her red locks her mouth with venom fills; 55
And thence into the royal ear inftills.

The Queen incens'd, his fervices forgot,
Leaves him a victim to the vengeful Scot.

Now through the realm a proclamation spread ‡,
To fix a price on his devoted head.

While innocent, he fcorns ignoble flight;
His watchful friends preferve him by a fleight.

By Harley's favour once again he shines; Is now carefs'd by candidate divines,

60

Who change opinions with the changing fcene: 65 Lord! how were they mistaken in the Dean!

They both spoke against the author in the house of Commons, although Aillabie profeffed much friend hip for him.

* Tale of a Tub.

His Grace was forry for what he had faid, and fent a meffage to the author to defire his pardon.

The proclamation was against the author of a pamphlet, called, "The public fpirit of the Whigs," against which the Scotch Lords complained. See it in vol. 2.

Now

Now Delaware | again familiar grows;

||

And in Swift's ear thrufts half his powder'd nose.
The Scottish nation, whom he durft offend,
Again apply that Swift would be their friend **. 70

By faction tir'd, with grief he waits a while, His great contending friends to reconcile, Performs what friendship, juftice, truth, require: What could he more but decently retire *

*?

In SICKNES S.

Written foon after the author's coming to live in Ireland, upon the Queen's death, October 1714.

IS true, then why fhould I repine
To fee my life fo faft decline?

But why obfcurely here alone,

Where I am neither lov'd nor known?
My state of health none care to learn ;
My life is here no foul's concern:
And those with whom I now converse,
Without a tear will tend my herfe.
Remov'd from kind Arbuthnot's aid,
Who knows his art, but not his trade,

Delaware, then Lord Treasurer of the household, always careffed the author at court: but, during the trial of the printers before the houfe of Lords, and while the proclamation hung over the author, his Lordship would not feem to know him.

** The Stotch Lords treated and vifited the author more afte the proclamation than before, except the Duke of Argyll, who woul, never be reconciled.

* About ten weeks before the Queen's death, I left he tow upon occafion of that incurable breach among the great mo a. court, and went down to Berkshire.

Preferring

Preferring his regard for me
Before his credit, or his fee.

pay

Some formal vifits, looks, and words,
What mere humanity affords,
I meet perhaps from three or four,
From whom I once expected more;
Which thofe who tend the fick for
Can act as decently as they :
But no obliging tender friend
To help at my approaching end.
My life is now a burden grown
To others, ere it be my own.
Ye formal weepers for the fick,
In your laft offices be quick :

15

20

And spare my abfent friends the grief
To hear, yet give me no relief;

25

Expir'd to-day, intomb'd to-morrow,

When known, will fave a double forrow,

To the Earl of OXFORD, late Lord Treafurer.

Sent to him when he was in the

Tower, before his trial.

Out of HORACE.

Written in the year 1716.

HOW blefs'd is he who for his country dies,
Since death purfues the coward as he flies!
The youth in vain would fly from fate's attack,
With trembling knees, and terror at his back;
Tho' fear fhould lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet fwifter fate will feize him from behind.