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Barber's name on Butle

den, Sheffield justly
bonor'd Cowley's sha
urber that a name

Butler's, on a tomb d better far proclaim mbler Settle's name en had been well p and the city bard. of the prints from She Westminster - Abbes of Alderman Barber cribed in the place of


Engraved on the Collar of a Dog, which I gave to his Royal

Tam his Highness' dog at Kew,
Pray, tell me Sir, whose dog are you?


Occasioned by an Invitation to Court. In the lines that you serit are the Muses and

Graces; You've the Nine in your'wit, and the Three in

your faces.

EPIGRAM ON MRS. TOFTS*, A handsome woman with a fine voice, but very covetous and


So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song, As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus

along ; * This Epigram, first printed anonymously in Steele's collection, and copied in the Miscellanies of Swift and Pope, is ascribed to Pope by Sir John Hawkins, in bis history of music. Mrs. Toft, who was the daughter of a person in the family of Bishop Búrnet, is celebrated as a singer little inferior, either for her voice or manner, to the best Italian women. She lived at the introduction of the Opera into this kingdom, and sung in company with Nicolini; but being ignorant of Italian, chanted her recitative in English, in answer to his Italian : yet tbe che rus of their voices overcame the absurdity.

in English, in being ignorant of in; and sung in

But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride,
That the beasts must have stary'd, and the poet

have died.


On the introduction of Barber's name on Butler's Monu.


Respect to Dryden, Sheffield justly paid,
And noble Villars honor'd Cowley's shade,
But whence this Barber ?-_that a name so mean
Should, join’d with Butler's, on a tomb be seen ;
This pyramid would better far proclaim,
To future ages humbler Settle's name :
Poet and patron then had been well pair’d,
The city printer, and the city bard.

* Mr. Pope, in one of the prints from Sheemaker's monument of Shakspear in Westminster - Abbey, has sufficiently shewn his contempt of Alderman Barber, by the following couplets, which is subscribed in the place of 'The cloud capp'd towers.

« Thus Britain loy'd me; and preservd my fame,

Clear from a Barber's or a Benson's name.' A. Pope. The above Epigram is attributed to Mr. Pope, and he might probably have suppressed his satire on the Alderman, because he was one of Swift's acquaintances and correspondents; though in the fourth book of the Dunciad, he has an anonymous stroke at one line :

So by such bard an Alderman shall sit, ' A heavy load shall hang at every wit.


His saltem accumulem donis, et run ar inani
Munere !




Dorset, the grace of courts, the Muse's pride,
Patron of arts, and judge of Nature, dy'd ;
The scourge of pride, though sanctify'd or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state;
Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay,
His anger moral, and his wisdom gay.
Bless'd Satirist! who touch'd the mean so true,
As show'd vice had his hate, and pity too.
Bless'd Courtier ! who could king and country please,
Yet sacred keep his friendships and his ease.
Bless'd Peer ! his great forefathers' ev'ry grace,
Reflecting, and reflected in his race;
Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets, shinc,
And patriots still, or poets, deck the lipe.

11. ON SIR WILLIAM TRUMBALL, One of the principal Secretaries of State to King William III. who, having resigned his place, died in his retirement at Easthamstead, in Berkshire, 1716. A PLEASING form ; a firm, yet cautious mind; Sincere, though prudent; constant, yet resign'd: Honor unchang'd, a principle profest, Fix'd to one side, but mod'rate to the rest ; An honest courtier, yet a patriot too ; Just to his prince, and to his country true : Fill'd with the sense of age, the fire of youth, A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth; A gen'rous faith, from superstition free ; A love to peace, and hate of tyranny; Such this man was ; who now from earth remov'd, At length enjoys that liberty he lov'd.

111. ON THE HON. SIMON HARCOURT, Only son of the Lord Chancellor Harcourt, at the Church of

Stanton-Harcourt, in Oxfordshire, 1720. To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art ! draw near; Here lies the friend most lov'd, the son most dear; Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief, but when he dy'd.

How vain is reason, eloquence how weak ! If Pope must tell what Harcourt cannot speak. Oh ! let thy once lov'd friend inscribe thy stone, And, with a father's sorrows, mix his own!

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