1740.

A FRAGMENT OF A POEM.

O Wretched B----,[90] jealous now of all, What god, what mortal shall prevent thy fall?

Turn, turn thy eyes from wicked men in place, And see what succour from the patriot race.

C----,[91] his own proud dupe, thinks monarchs things Made just for him, as other fools for kings; Controls, decides, insults thee every hour, And antedates the hatred due to power.

Through clouds of passion P----'s[92] views are clear; He foams a patriot to subside a peer; 10 Impatient sees his country bought and sold, And damns the market where he takes no gold.

Grave, righteous S----[93] jogs on till, past belief, He finds himself companion with a thief.

To purge and let thee blood with fire and sword, Is all the help stern S----[94] would afford.

That those who bind and rob thee would not kill, Good C----[95] hopes, and candidly sits still.

Of Ch---s W----[96] who speaks at all, No more than of Sir Har--y or Sir P----.[97] 20 Whose names once up, they thought it was not wrong To lie in bed, but sure they lay too long.

G---r, C---m, B---t,[98] pay thee due regards, Unless the ladies bid them mind their cards.

with wit that must And C---d[99] who speaks so well and writes, Whom (saving W.) every S. _harper bites_, must needs, Whose wit and ... equally provoke one, Finds thee, at best, the butt to crack his joke on.

As for the rest, each winter up they run, And all are clear, and something must be done. 30 Then urged by C---t,[100] or by C---t stopp'd, Inflamed by P----,[101] and by P---- dropp'd; They follow reverently each wondrous wight, Amazed that one can read, that one can write: So geese to gander prone obedience keep, Hiss, if he hiss, and if he slumber, sleep.

Till having done whate'er was fit or fine, Utter'd a speech, and ask'd their friends to dine; Each hurries back to his paternal ground, Content but for five shillings in the pound, 40 Yearly defeated, yearly hopes they give, And all agree Sir Robert cannot live.

Rise, rise, great W----,[102] fated to appear, Spite of thyself a glorious minister!

Speak the loud language princes ...

And treat with half the ...

At length to B---- kind as to thy ...

Espouse the nation, you ...

What can thy H---[103] ...

Dress in Dutch ... 50

Though still he travels on no bad pretence, To shew ...

Or those foul copies of thy face and tongue, Veracious W----[104] and frontless Young;[105]

Sagacious Bub,[106] so late a friend, and there So late a foe, yet more sagacious H----?[107]

Hervey and Hervey's school, F----, H---y,[108] H---n[109]

Yea, moral Ebor,[110] or religious Winton.

How! what can O---w,[111] what can D----, The wisdom of the one and other chair, 60 N----[112] laugh, or D---s[113] sager, Or thy dread truncheon M----'s[114] mighty peer?

What help from J----'s[115] opiates canst thou draw, Or H---k's[116] quibbles voted into law?

C----,[117] that Roman in his nose alone, Who hears all causes, B----,[118] but thy own, Or those proud fools whom nature, rank, and fate Made fit companions for the sword of state.

Can the light packhorse, or the heavy steer, The sowzing prelate, or the sweating peer, 70 Drag out, with all its dirt and all its weight, The lumbering carriage of thy broken state?

Alas! the people curse, the carman swears, The drivers quarrel, and the master stares.

The plague is on thee, Britain, and who tries To save thee, in the infectious office _dies_.

The first firm P---y soon resign'd his breath, Brave S---w[119] loved thee, and was lied to death.

Good M-m-t's[120] fate tore P---th[121] from thy side, And thy last sigh was heard when W---m[122] died. 80

Thy nobles sl---s,[123] thy se---s[124] bought with gold Thy clergy perjured, thy whole people sold.

An atheist [symbol] a [symbol]'s ad ... [125]

Blotch thee all o'er, and sink ...

Alas! on one alone our all relies, Let him be honest, and he must be wise, Let him no trifler from his school, Nor like his ... still a ...

Be but a man! unminister'd, alone, And free at once the senate and the throne; 90 Esteem the public love his best supply, A [symbol]'s[126] true glory his integrity: Rich _with_ his ... _in_ his ... strong, Affect no conquest, but endure no wrong.

Whatever his religion[127] or his blood, His public virtue makes his title good.

Europe's just balance and our own may stand, And one man's honesty redeem the land.

THE FOURTH EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.[128]

Say, St John, who alone peruse With candid eye the mimic Muse, What schemes of politics, or laws, In Gallic lands the patriot draws!

Is then a greater work in hand, Than all the tomes of Haines's band?

'Or shoots he folly as it flies?

Or catches manners as they rise?'

Or urged by unquench'd native heat, Does St John Greenwich sports repeat? 10 Where (emulous of Chartres' fame) E'en Chartres' self is scarce a name.

To you (the all-envied gift of heaven) The indulgent gods, unask'd, have given A form complete in every part, And, to enjoy that gift, the art.

What could a tender mother's care Wish better, to her favourite heir, Than wit, and fame, and lucky hours, A stock of health, and golden showers, 20 And graceful fluency of speech, Precepts before unknown to teach?

Amidst thy various ebbs of fear, And gleaming hope, and black despair, Yet let thy friend this truth impart, A truth I tell with bleeding heart, (In justice for your labours past) That every day shall be your last; That every hour you life renew Is to your injured country due. 30

In spite of fears, of mercy spite, My genius still must rail, and write.

Haste to thy Twickenham's safe retreat, And mingle with the grumbling great; There, half-devoured by spleen, you'll find The rhyming bubbler of mankind; There (objects of our mutual hate) We'll ridicule both church and state.

EPIGRAM

ON ONE WHO MADE LONG EPITAPHS.[129]

Friend, for your epitaphs I'm grieved, Where still so much is said; One half will never be believed, The other never read.

ON AN OLD GATE.

ERECTED IN CHISWICK GARDENS.

O gate, how cam'st thou here?

_Gate_. I was brought from Chelsea last year, Batter'd with wind and weather.

Inigo Jones put me together; Sir Hans Sloane Let me alone: Burlington brought me hither.