Imitated in the Manner of Dr. SWIFT.
IS true, my Lord, I gave my word,
I would be with you, June the third;
Chang'd it to Auguft, and (in fhort)
Have kept it as you do at Court.
You humour me when I am fick,
Why not when I am fplenetick?
In town, what Objects could I meet?
The fhops fhut up in ev'ry ftreet,
And Fun'rals black'ning all the Doors,
And yet more melancholy Whores :
And what a duft in ev'ry place?
And a thin Court that wants your Face,
And Feyers raging up and down,
And W* and H** both in Town!
"The dog-days are no more the cafe,"
'Tis true, but Winter comes apace :
Then fouthward let your bard retire,
Hold out fome Months 'twixt Sun and Fire,
Uinque dies tibi pollicitus me rure futuruin,
Sextilem totum mendax defideror atqui,
Si me vivere vis fanum recteque valentem;
Quam mihi das aegro, dabis aegrotare timenti,
Maecenas, veniam: dum ficus prima calorque
Defignatorum decorat lictoribus atris: "
Dum pueris omnis pater, et matercula pallet;
Officiofaque fedulitas, et opella forenfis
Adducit febris, et teftamenta refignat.
Quod fi bruma nives Albanis illinet agris;
.Ad mare defcendet vates tuus, et fibi parcet,
And you fhall fee the firft warm Weather
Me and the Butterflies together.
My Lord, your Favours well I know;
'Tis with Distinction you beftow;
And not to ev'ry one that comes,
Juft as a Scotfman does his Plums.
"Pray take them, Sir-Enough's a Feast:
"Eat fome, and pocket up the reft"-
What rob your Boys? those pretty rogues !
"No, Sir, you'll leave them to the Hogs."
Thus Fools with Compliments befiege ye,
Contriving never to oblige ye.
Scatter your favours on a Fop,
Ingratitude's the certain crop ;
And 'tis but juft, I'll tell you wherefore,
You give the things you never care for.
A wife man always is or shou'd
Be mighty ready to do good;
But makes a diff'rence in his thought
Betwixt a Guinea and a Groat.
Now this I'll fay, you'll find in me
A fafe Companion, and a free;
Contractufque leget; te, dulcis amice, reviset
Cum Zephyris, fi concedes, et hirundine prima.
Non, quo more pyris, vefci Calaber jubet hofpes,
Tu me fecifti locupletem. Vefcere fodes.
Jam fatis eft. At tu quantumvis tolle. Benigne.
Non invifa feres pueris munufcula parvis.
Tam teneor dono, quam fi dimittar onuftus.
Ut libet: haec porcis hodie comedenda relinques.
Prodigus et ftultus donat quae fpernit et odit:
Haec feges ingratos tulit et feret omnibus annis.
Vir bonus et fapiens, dignis ait effe paratus!
Nec tamen ignorat, quid diftent aera lupinis?
Dignum praeftabo me, etiam pro laude merentis.
But if you'd have me always near
A word, pray, in your Honour's ear.
I hope it is your Refolution
To give me back my Constitution!
The fprightly Wit, the lively Eye,
Th' engaging Smile, the Gaiety,
That laugh'd down many a Summer Sun,
And kept you up fo oft till one :
And all that voluntary Vein,
As when Belinda rais'd my Strain.
A Weazel once made fhift to flink
In at a Corn-loft thro' a Chink;
But having amply stuff'd his skin,
Could not get out as he got in;
Which one belonging to the House
('Twas not a Man, it was a Mouse)
Obferving, cry'd, "You 'fcape not fo,
"Lean as you came, Sir, you must go."
Sir, you may spare your Application,
I'm no fuch Beaft, nor his Relation;
Nor one that Temperance advance,
Cramm'd to the Throat with Ortolans :
Extremely ready to refign
All that may make me none of mine.
Quod fi me noles ufquam difcedere; reddes
Forte latus, nigros augufta fronte capillos :
Reddes dulce loqui: reddes ridere decorum, et
Inter vina fugam Cynarae moerere protervae.
Forte per anguftam tenuis vulpecula rimam
Repferat in cumeram frumenti: pastaque, rurfus
Ire foras pleno tendebat corpore fruftra,
Cui muftela procul, Si vis, ait, effugere iftinc;
Macra cavum repetes arctum, quem macra subisti.
Hac ego fi compellor imagine, cuncta refigno;
Nec fomnum plebis laudo fatur altilium, nec
South-fea Subfcriptions take who please,
Leave me but Liberty and Ease.
'Twas what I faid to Craggs and Child,
Who prais'd my Modefty, and fmil'd.
Give me, I cry'd, (enough for me)
My Bread, and Independency!
So bought an Annual-rent or two,
And liv'd-juft as you fee I do;
Near fifty, and without a Wife,
I trust that finking Fund, my Life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my Paternal Cell,
A little House, with Trees a-row,
And, like its Master, very low.
There dy'd my father, no man's Debtor,
And there I'll die, nor worfe nor better.
To fet this matter full before ye,
Our old Friend Swift will tell his Story.
"Harley, the Nation's great Support,"
But you may read it, I ftop fhort.
Otia divitiis Arabum liberrima muto.
Saepe verecundum laudafti : Rexque, Paterque
Audifti coram, nec verbo parcius abfens :
Infpice, fi poffum donota reponere laetus.
Parvum parva decent, mihi jam non regia Roma,
Sed vacuum Tibur placet, aut imbelle Tarentum.
Strenuus et fortis, caufifque Philippus agendis
Clarus, etc.
The First Part imitated in the Year 1714, by Dr. SWIFT; the latter Part added afterwards.
I'VE often wish'd that I had clear
For life, fix hundred pounds a-year,
A handfome Houfe to lodge a Friend,
A River at my garden's end,
A Terras-walk, and half a Rood
Of Land, fet out to plant a Wood.
Well, now I have all this and more,
I afk not to increase my ftore;
But here a Grievance feems to lie,
All this is mine but till I die;
'I can't but think 'twould found more clever,
To me and to my Heirs for ever.
If I ne'er got or loft a groat,
By any Trick, or any Fault;
And if I pray by Reafon's rules,
And not like Forty other Fools:
Vouchfafe, oh Gracious Maker!
"To grant me this and t'other Acre:
"Or, if it be thy Will and Pleasure,
"Direct my Plow to find a Treafure:"
OC erat in votis: modus agri non ita magnus,
нос
Hortus ubi, et tecto vicinus jugis aquae fons,
Et paulum filvae fuper his foret, au&tius, atque
Di melius fecere, bene eft, nil amplius oro,
Maia nate, nifi ut propria haec mihi munera faxis.
Si neque majorem feci ratione mala rem,
Nec fum fa&turus vitio culpave minorem:
Si veneror ftultus nihil horum, O fi angulus ille
Proximus, accedat, qui nunc denormat agellum!
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