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Quis inepta
Tam patiens arbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?


Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel,
When injured Thales * bids the town farewell;
Yet still my calmer thoughts his choice commend,
I praise the hermit, but regret the friend,
Who now resolves, from vice and London far,
To breathe in distant fields a purer air;
And, fix'd on Cambria's solitary shore,
Give to Saint David one true Briton more.

For who would leave, unbribed, Hibernia's land,
Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand ?
There none are swept by sudden fate away,
But all, whom hunger spares, with age decay :
Here malice, rapine, accident conspire,
And now a rabble rages, now a fire;
Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay,
And here the fell attorney prowls for prey ;
Here falling houses thunder on your head,
And here a female atheist talks you dead.

While Thales waits the wherry that contains Of dissipated wealth the small remains,

• By Thales some have onderstood Savage the poet, who took a journey into Wales after this poem was published.

On Thames's banks, in silent thought we stood,
Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood :
Struck with the seat that gave Eliza * birth,
We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth;
In pleasing dreams the blissful age renew,
And call Britannia's glories back to view;
Behold her cross triumphant on the main,
The guard of commerce, and the dread of Spain,
Ere masquerades debauch’d, excise oppress’d,
Or English honour grew a standing jest.

A transient calm the happy scenes bestow,
And for a moment lull the sense of woe.
At length awaking, with contemptuous frown,
Indignant Thales eyes the neighbouring town:
"Since worth (he cries), in these degenerate days,
Wants e'en the cheap reward of empty praise ;
In those cursed walls, devote to vice and gain,
Since unrewarded science toils in vain;
Since hope but soothes to doubie my distress,
And every moment leaves my little less;
While yet my steady steps no staff sustains,
And life still vigorous revels in my veins ;
Grant me, kind Heaven, to find some happier
Explain their country's dear-bought rights away,
And plead for pirates in the face of day*;
With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth,
And lend a lie the confidence of truth.
Let such raise palaces, and manors buy,
Collect a tax, or farm a lottery;
With warbling eunuchs fill a licensed stage t,
And lull to servitude a thoughtless age.
Heroes, proceed! what bounds your pride

place, Where honesty and sense are no disgrace; Some pleasing bank where verdant osiers play, Some peaceful vale with Nature's painting gay; Where once the harass'd Briton found repose, And safe in poverty defied his foes ; Some secret cell, ye powers indulgent, give, Let live here, for has learn'd to live. Here let those reign whom pensions can incite To vote a patriot black, a courtier white;

* Queen Elizabeth, born at Greenwich.

shall hold ?
What check restrain your thirst of power and gold ?
Behold rebellious virtue quite o’erthrown,
Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives your own,
To such a groaning nation's spoils are given,
When public crimes inflame the wrath of Heaven:
But what, my friend, what hope remains for me,
Who start at theft, and blush at perjury?
Who scarce forbear, though Britain's court he
To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing ; [sing,
A statesman's logic unconvinced can hear,
And dare to slumber o'er the Gazetteer #:
Despise a fool in half his pension dress’d,
And strive in vain to laugh at Hy's jest.

Others, with softer smiles and subtler art, Can sap the principles, or taint the heart; With more address a lover's note convey, Or bribe a virgin's innocence away. Well may they rise, while I, whose rustic tongue Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong,


* The encroachments of the Spaniards had been palliated in both houses of parliament.

† The licensing act had then lately passed.

* A paper which at that time contained apologies for the court.


Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy,
Live unregarded, unlamented die.

For what but social guilt the friend endears ?
Who shares Orgilio's crimes his fortune shares.
But thou, should tempting villany present
All Marlborough hoarded, or all Villiers spent,
Turn from the glittering bribe thy scornful eye,
Nor sell for gold what gold could never buy,
The peaceful slumber, self-approving day,
Unsullied fame, and conscience ever gay.

· The cheated nation's happy favourites, see ! Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me! London! the needy villain's general home, The common sewer of Paris and of Rome, With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state. Forgive my transports on a theme like this, I cannot bear a French metropolis.

• Illustrious Edward! from the realms of day, The land of heroes and of saints survey ; Nor hope the British lineaments to trace, The rustic grandeur, or the surly grace ; But, lost in thoughtless ease and empty show, Behold the warrior dwindled to a beau; Sense, freedom, piety refined away, Of France the mimic, and of Spain the prey.

• All that at home no more can beg or steal, Or like a gibbet better than a wheel; Hiss'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, Their air, their dress, their politics import; Obsequious, artful, voluble, and gay, On Britain's fond credulity they prey. No gainful trade their industry can scape, They sing, they dance, clean shoes, or cure a clap:

All sciences a fasting Monsieur knows,
And bid him go to hell, to hell he goes.

"Ah! what avails it that, from slavery far,
I drew the breath of life in English air;
Was early taught a Briton's right to prize,
And lisp the tale of Henry's victories;
If the gull’d conqueror receives the chain,
And flattery subdues when arms are vain ?

Studious to please, and ready to submit, The supple Gaul was born a parasite: Still to his interest true, where'er he goes, Wit, bravery, worth his lavish tongue bestows; In every face a thousand graces shine, From every tongue flows harmony divine. These arts in vain our rugged natives try, Strain out with faltering diffidence a lie, And gain a kick for awkward flattery.

Besides, with justice this discerning age Admires their wondrous talents for the stage: Well may they venture on the mimic's art Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; Practised their master's notions to embrace, Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face; With every wild absurdity comply, And view each object with another's eye ; To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear, To pour at will the counterfeited tear; And, as their patron hints the cold or heat, To shake in dogdays, in December sweat. How, when competitors like these contend, Can surly Virtue hope to fix a friend? Slaves that with serious impudence beguile, And lie without a blush, without a smile ;

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