Though her defign was not obtain'd
Yet had fre much experience gain'd,
And, by the project vainly try'd,
Could better now the caufe decide.
She gave due notice, that both parties,
Coram Regina, prox' die Mart!,
Should at their peril, without fail,
Come and appear, and fave their bail.
All met; and, filence thrice proclaim'd,
One lawyer to each fde was nain'd.
The judge difcover'd in her face
Refentments for her late difgrace;
And, full of anger, fhame, and grief,
"Nor spend their time to frew their reading;
She'd have a fummary proceeding,
She gather'd under every head
The fum of what each lawyer faid,
Gave her own reafons laft, and then
Decreed the cause against the men,
But, in a weighty cafe like this, To flew fhe did not judge amifs, Which evil tongues might elfe report, She made a fpeech in open court; Wherein the grievously complains, "How he was cheated by the swains ;" On whose petition (humbly fhewing, That women were not worth the wooing, And that, unless the fex would mend, The race of lovers foon muft end)«She was at Lord knows what expence "To form a nymph of wit and fente, "A model for her fex defign'd, "Who never could one lover find,
She faw her favour was misplac'd; "The fellows had a wretched tafie; "She needs must tell them to their face, "They were a fupid, fenfelefs race; And, were fhe to begin again, "She'd ftudy to reform the n en:
Or add fome grains of folly more "To women, than they had before, "To put them on an equal foot; "And this, or nothing elfe, would do 't, "This might their mutual fancy ftrike, "Since every being loves its like.
"But now, repenting what was done, "She left all bufinefs to her fon;
She puts the world in his poffeffion,
And let him ufe it at difcretion."
The cryer was order'd to difmifs The court, fo made his last O yes! The goddefs would no longer wait; But, rifing from her chair ot state, Left all below at fx and feven, Harnefs'd her doves, and fiew to heaven.
TO LOVE*.
[N all I wifh, how happy should I be, Thou
So weak thou art, that fools thy power defpife: 835 And yet fo ftrong, thou triumph'it o'er the wife.
Thy traps are laid with fuch peculiar art,
They catch the cautious, let the rash depart. Moft nets are fill'd by want of thought and care: 840 But too much thinking brings us to thy fnare; Where, held by thee, in favery we ftay, And throw the pleating part of life away. But, what does moft my indignation move, Difcretion! thou wert ne'er a friend to love; 845 Thy chief delight is to defeat thofe arts,
By which he kindles mutual flames in hearts;
While the blind loitering God is at his play,
Thou fteal'ft his golden-pointed darts away;
Thofe darts which never fail; and in their ftead
Convey' malignant arrow's tipt with lead:
The heedlefs God, fufpecting no deceits,
Shoots on, and thinks he has done wondrous
feats ;
But the poor nymph who feels her vitals burn,
And from her fhepherd can find no return,
Laments, and rages at the power divine,
When, curft Difcretion! all the fault was thine :
Cupid and Hymen thou haft fet at odds,
860 And bred fuch feuds between thofe kindred gods,
That Venus cannot reconcile her fons ;
When one appears, away the other runs.
The former fcales, wherein he us'd to poise
Love against love, and equal joys with joys,
Are now fill'd up with avarice and pride,
Where titles, power, and riches, ftill fubfide.
Then, gentle Venus, to thy father run,
And tell him how thy children are undone;
Prepare his bolts to give one fatal blow,
And ftrike Diferetion to the fhades below,
Found in Mifs Vanhomrigh's desk, after her death, in the hand-writing of Dr, Swift..
Yet why fhould I thy presence hail? To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with fweets; ne more the ro
With fuch tranfcendent beauty blows,
As when Cadenus bleft the scene,
And fhar'd with me thofe joys ferene;
When, unperceiv'd, the lambent fire
Cf friendship kindled new defre ;
Still liftening to his tuneful tongue,
The truths, which angels might have fung,
Divine, impreft their gentle fway,
And sweetly stole my foul away.
†This and the next ode have been afcribed μ Varela.
A REBUS. By VANESSA.
the name of the man who his mif-
trefs deny'd,
And let the firit of it be only apply'd
To join with the prophett who David did chide;,
Then fay what a horfe is that runs very fat;
And that which deferves to be firft, put the laft;
Spell all then, and put them together, to find
The Name and the Virtues of him I defign'd.
Like the Patriarch in Egypt, he's vers'd in the
ftate;
Like the Prophet in Jewry, he's free with the great;
Like a racer he flies, to fuccour with speed, When his friends want his aid, or defert is in need.
DEAN'S ANSWER,
THE nymph who wrote this in an amorous fit, I cannot but envy the pride of her wit, Which thus he will venture profufely to throw On fo mean a defign, and a fubject fo low, For mean's her design, and her fubject as mean, The first but a Rebus, the last but a Dean, A Dean's but a parfon; and what is a Rebus? A thing never known to the Mufes or Phoebus. The corruption of verfe; for, when all is done, It is but a paraphrafe made on a pun. But a genius like her's no fubjećt can ftifle, It fhews and difcovers itself through a trifle. *Jofeph. Nathan. + Swift.
By reading this trifle, I quic' ly began
To find her a great wit, but the dean a small man,
Rich ladies will furnish their garrets with stuff,
Which others for mantuas would think one enough;
So the wit that is lavi ly thrown away here,
Might furnish a fecond-rate set a year.
Thus much for the verfe; we proceed to the next,
Where the Nymph had entirely forsaken her text;
Her ne panegyricks are quite out of season,
And what he defcribes to be merit is treason:
The changes which faction has made in the state,
Have put the dea's politicks quite out of date:
Now no one regards what he utters with freedom,
And, fhould he write pamphlets, no great man
would read 'em ;
And should went or defert ftand in need of his aid,
This racer would prove but a dull-founder'd jade
HORACE, B. H. ODE I. PARAPHRASED, Addreffed to RICHARD STEELE, Esq. 1714. "En qui promittit cives, urbem fibi curæ, "Imperium fore, & Italiam, & delubra deorum. HOR. I Sat. vi. 34.
D'Some drange arcara to unfold,
ICK, thou 'rt refolv'd, as I am told,
And, with the help of Buckley's pen,
To vamp the good old cause again,
Which thou (fuch Burnet's fhrewd advice is)
Muft furbish up, and nickname Crisis.
Thou pompously wilt let us know
What all the world knew long ago,
(E'er nce Sir William Gore was mayor,
And Harley fill'd the Commons' chair)
That we a German Prince muft own
When Anne for heaven reigns her throne.
But, more than that, thou 'lt keep a rout
With who is in-and who is cut;
Thou 'It rail devoutly at the peace,
And all its fecret caufes trace,
The bucket-play 'twixt Whigs and Tories,
Their ups and downs, with fifty stories
Of tricks the Lord of Oxford knows,
And errors of our Plenipoes.
Thou 'It tell of leagues among the great,
Portending ruin to our state;
And of that dreadful coup d'eclat,
Which has afforded thee much chat.
The Queen, forfooth, (defotic gave
Twelve coronets without thy leave!
A breach of liberty, 'tis own'd,
For which no heads have yet aton'd!
Believe me, what thou 'it undertaken
May bring in jeopardy thy bacon;
For madmen, children, wits, and fools,
Should never meddle with edg'd tools.
But, fince thou 'rt got into the fire,
And canft not eafily retire,
Thou must no longer deal in farce,
Until thou shalt have eas'd thy conscience,
Nor pump to cobble wicked verfe;
Of fpleen, of politicks, and nonfense;
And, when thou 'ft bid adieu to cares,
And fettled Europe's grand affairs,
'Twill then, perhaps be, worth thy while For Drury-Lane to fhape thy ftile:
To make a pair of jolly fellows,
"The fon and father join, to tell us
How fons may fafely difobey,
"And fathers never fhould fay nay;
"By which wife conduct they grow friends.
"At laft and fo the ftory ends."
When first I knew thee, Dick, thou wert
Renown'd for ill in Fauitus' art,
Which made thy clofet much frequented
By buxom laffes-fome repented
Their lucklefs choice of bufbands-others,
Impatient to be like their mothers,
Receiv'd from thee profound directions
How beft to fettle their affections.
Thus thou, a friend to the diftrefs'd,
Didft in thy calling do thy beft.
But now the Senate (if things hit,
And thou at Stockbridge wert not bit),
Muft feel thy eloquence and fire,
Approve thy fchemes, thy wit admire,
Thee with immortal honours crown,
Whilft, Patriot-like, thou?lt ftrut and frown.
What though by enemies 'tis faid,
The laurel which adorns thy head,
Muft one day come in competition
By virtue of fome fly petition:
Yet mum for that; hope ftill the beft,
Nor let fuch cares difturb thy reft.
Methinks I hear thee loud as trumpet,
As bag-pipe fhrill, or oyfter-ftrumpet;
Methinks I fee thee, fpruce and fine,
With coat embroider'd richly shine,
And dazzle all the idol-faces
As through the hell thy worship paces;
(Though this I fpeak but at a venture,
Suppofing thou haft tick with Hunter)
Methinks I fec a black-gurd-rout
Attend thy coach, and hear them shout
In approbation of thy tongue,
Which (in their style) is purely hurg,
Now! now you carry all before you!
Nor dares one Jacobite or Tory
Pretend to anfwer one fyllable,
Except the matchlefs hero Abel.j
What though her highnefs and her fpoufe
In Antwerps keep a frugal houfe,
Yet, not forgetful of a friend,
They'll foon enable thee to spend,
If to Macartney thou wilt toaft,
And to his picus patron's ghost.
Now manfully thou 'lt run a tilt
On pepes, for all the blood they 've fpilt,
"For maffacres, and racks, and flames,
"For lands enrich'd by crimfon ftreams,
"For inquifitions taught by Spain,
"Of which the Chriftian world complain.".
Dick, we agree-all's true thou 'it faid,
As that my Mufe is yet a maid.
But, if I may with freedom talk,
All this is foreign to thy walk :
Thy genius has perhaps a knack
50 At trudging in a beaten track,
But is for gate-affairs as fit
As mine for politicks and wit.
Then let us both in time grow wife,
Nor higher than our talents rife ;
55 To fome faug cellar let 's repair
From duns and debts, and drown our care;
Now quafi of honeft ale a quart,
Now venture at a pint of port,
With which infpir'd, we 'll club each night 60 Some tender fonnet to indite,
And with Tom D'Urfey, Philips, Dennis, 115
Immortalize our Dolls and Jenneys.
HORACE, BOOK I, EP. V.
JOHN DENNIS the fheltering Poet's INVITA-
TION to RICHARD STEELE, the fecluded
Party-writer, and Member, to come and live
with him in THE MINT, 1714*.
Fit to be bound up with THE CRISIS. If thou can a foe afpendiorifly are, [F thou canst lay afide a spendthrift's air,
Such as we Minters, with ragouts unstor❜d,
Will, in defiance of the law, afford;
Quit thy patrols with Toby's Christmas-box, 5
And come to me at The Two Fighting Cocks :
Since printing by fubfcription now is grown
The ftaleft, idleft cheat about the town;
And ev❜n Charles Gildon, who, a papiít bred,
Has an alarm against that worship fpread,
Is practising those beaten paths of cruifing,
And for new levies on Propofals mufing.
'Tis true, that Bloomsbury Square's a noble
place;
But what are lofty buildings in thy cafe?
What's a fine houfe embellished to profusion, 15
Where fhoulder-dabbers are in execution?
Or whence its timorous tenant feldom fallies,
90 But apprehenfive of infulting bailiffs?
This once be mindful of a friend's advice,
And ceafe to be improvidently nice;
Exchange the profpects that delude thy fight,
From Highgate's steep afcent, and, Hapitead's
height,
This is faid to be a plot of a comedy with which Mr. Steele has long threatened the tean. SWIFT. In fome particulars it would apply to "The Corfcious Lovers"
†There were feme tolerable grounds for this fection. Mr. Steele had actually a laboratory at Poplar.
With verdant fcenes, that, from St. George's field,
More durable and fate enjoyments yield,
Here I, ev'n I, that ne'er till now could find 25
re-Eafe to my troubled and fufpicious mind,
But ever was with jealoufes poffefs'd,
Am in a ftate of indolence and reft;
Fearful no more of Frenchmen in disguise,
Nor looking upon strangers as on fpies,
Where the Duke of Marlborough then refided.
General Macartney, who killed Duke Hamilton.
This and the preceding poem are printed from cepies in the Lambeth Library, K. 1, 2, 29, 30, 401a,
But quite divefted of my former fpleen,
Am'unprovok'd without and calm within:
And here I'll wait thy coming, till the fun
Shall its diurnal courfe completely run.
Think not that thou of sturdy butt fhalt fail; 35
My landlord's cellar 's itock'd with beer and ale,
With every fort of malt that is in use,
And every county's generous produce.
The ready (for here Chriftian faith is fick,
Which makes us feldom trefpass upon tick) 40
Inftantly brings the choiceft liquors out,
Whether we ask for home-brew'd or for itout,
For mead or cyder, or with dainties fed,
Ring for a flask or two of white or red,
Such as the drawer will not fail to swear
Was drunk by Pilkington when third time mayor.
That name, methinks, fo popularly known
For oppofition to the church and crown,
Might make the Lufitanian grape to pass,
And almost give a fanction to the glass ;
Efpecially with thee, whose hafty zeal
Againft the late rejected commerce bill
Made thee rife up, like an audacious elf,
To do the speaker honour, not thyself.
But, if thou foar it above the common prices,
By virtue of fubfcription to thy Crifis,
And nothing can go down with thee, but wines
Prefs'd from Burgundian and Campanian vines,
Bid them be brought; for, though I hate the
French,
I love their liquors, as thou lov'ft a wench;
Elfe thou must humble thy expensive taste,
And, with us, hold contentment for a feast,
The fire's already lighted; and the maid Has a clean cloth upon the table laid, Who never on a Saturday had ftruck, But for thy entertainment, up a buck. Think of this act of grace, which by your leave Sufan would not have done on Easter Eve, Had the not been inform'd over and over, 'Twas for th' ingenious Author of The Lover. 70 Ceafe therefore to beguile thyfelf with hopes, Which is no more than making fandy ropes, And quit the vain purfuit of loud applau e, That must bewilder thee in faction's caufe.
And with much malice, mix'd with little fatire,
Explode the wits on t'other fide o'tir' water.
Why has my Lord Godolphin's fpecial grace
Invested me with a queen's-waiter's place,
If I, debarr'd of festival delights,
Am not allow'd to spend the perquifites?
He's but a short reinove from being mad,
Who at a time of Jubilee is fad;
And, like a griping ufurer, does fpare
His money to be fquander'd by his heir;
Flutter'd away in liveries and in coaches,
And washy forts of feminine debauches.
As for my part, whate'er the world may think,
I'll bid adieu to gravity, and drink;
And, though I can't put off a woeful mein,
Will be all mirth and cheerfulness within:
As, in defpight of a cenforious race,
I moft incontinently fuck my face.
What mighty projects docs not he defign,
Whofe ftomach flows, and brain turns round
Wine, powerful wine, can thaw the frozen cit, And fashion him to humour and to wit;
Makes even S**** to disclose his art,
By racking every fecret from his heart,
As he flings off the ftatefman's fly disguise,
To name the cuckold's wife with whom he lies,
Ev'n Sarum, when he quaff's it ftead of tea, 120
Fancies himfelf in Canterbury's fee;
And S******, when he caroufing reels,
Imagines that he has regain'd the feals:
W******, by virtue of its juice, can fight, 125
And Stanhope of commiflioners make light.
Wine gives Lord William aptitude of parts,
And fwells him with his family's deferts:
Whom can it not make eloquent of speech?
Whom in extreme!t poverty not rich?
Since, by the means of the prevailing grape,
Th**** can Lechmere's warmth not only ape,'
But half-feas-oer, by its infpiring bounties,
Can qualify himfelf in feveral counties.
What I have promis'd, thou may'ft reit aflur'd,
Shall faithfully and gladly be procur'd.
Nay, I'm already better than my word,.
New plates and knives adorn the jovial board;
Pry'thee what is't to thee,who guides the fate? 75 And, left thou at their fight shouldît make wry Why Dunkirk's demolition is fo late?
Or why her Majefty thinks fit to ceafe
The din of war, and hufh the world to peace'?
The clergy too, without thy aid, can tell
What texts to choose, and on what topicks dwell;
And, uninftructed by thy babbling, teach
Their flocks, celeftial happiness to reach.
Rather let fuch poor fouls as you and I
Say that the holy days are drawing nigh,
And that to-morrow's fun begins the week,
Which will abound with ftore of ale and cake,
With hams of bacon, and with powder'd beef,
Stuff'd to give field-itinerants relief.
Then I, who have within thefe precincts kept, And ne'er beyond the chimney-fweeper's ftept, Will take a loofe, and venture to be feen, Since 'twill be Sunday, upon Shanks's green; There, with erected looks and phrafe fublime, To talk of unity of place and time,
The girl has fcower'd the pots, and wash'd the glaffes,
Ta'en care fo excellently well to clean 'em,
| That thou may it see thine own dear picture in 'em.
Moreover, due provifion has been made,
That converfation may not be betray'd;
I have no company but what is proper
To fit with the moft flagrant Whig at fupper.
There's not a man amoag them but must please,
Since they re as like each other as are peas.
Toland and Hare have jointly fent me word,
They'll come; and Kennet thinks to make a third,
Provided he 'as no other invitation,
From men of greater quality and station.
Room will for Oldmixon and J-s be left;
But their difcourfes fmell too much of theft:
There would be no abiding in the room,
Should two fuch ignorant pretenders come,
However, by this trufty bearer write,
If I fhould any other feabs invite;
Though if I may my ferious judgment give,
I'm wholly for King Charles's number tve: 160
That was the ftint in which that monarch fix'd,
Who would not be with noifinef's perplex'd:
And that, if you 'It agree to think it beft,
Shall be our tale of heads, without one other!
gueft.
I've nothing more, now this is faid, to fay,
But to request thou 'lt inftantly away,
And leave the duties of thy prefent poft,
To fome well-kill'd retainer to a host:
Doubtlefs he'll carefully thy place supply,
And o'er his grace's horfes have an eye,
While thou, who 'it flunk through postern more
than once,
Doft by that means avoid a croud of duns,
And, croffing o'er the Thames at Temple-ftairs,
Leav'ft Philips with good words to cheat their
TO LORD HARLEY,
ON HIS MARRIAGE, 1713.
AMONG the numbers who employ
Their tongues and pens to give you joy,
Dear Harley! generous youth, admit
What friendship dictates more than wit.
Forgive me, when I fondly thought
(By frequent obfervations taught)
A fpirit fo inform'd as yours
Could never profper in amours.
The God of Wit, and Light, and Arts,
With all acquir'd and natural parts,
Whole harp could favage beats enchant,
Was an unfortunate gallant.
Had Bacchus after Daphine reel'd,
The Nymph had foon been brought to yield :
Or, had embroider'd Mars pursued,
The Nymph would ne'er have been a prude.
Ten thousand footfieps, full in view,
Mark out the way where Daphne flew :
For fuch is all the fex's flight,
They fly from learning, wit, and light:
They fly, and none can overtake
But fome gay coxcomb, or a rake.
How then, dear Harley, could I guess
That you should meet, in love, fuccefs?
For, if those antient tales be true,
Phoebus was beautiful as you :
Yet Daphne never Lack'd her pace,
For wit and learning spoir'd his face.
And, fince the fame refemblance held
In gifts wherein you both excell❜d,
I fancy'd every nymph would run
From you, as from Latona's fon.
Then where, faid I, fhall Harley find
A virgin of fuperior mind,
With wit and virtue to discover,
And pay the merit of her lover?
This character fhall Ca'endifh claim,
Born to retrieve her fex's fame,
The chief among the glittering crowd, Of titles, birth, and fortune proud, (As fools are infolent and vain) | Madly afpir'd to wear her chain : But Pallas, guardian of the Maid, Defcending to her charge's aid, Held ut Medufa's fraky locks, Which itupify'd them all to stocks. The Nymph with indignation view'd The dull, the noify, and the lewd: For Pallas, with celeftial light, Had purify'd her mortal fight; Shew'd her the virtues all combin'd, Fresh blooming, in young Harley's mind. Terreftrial nymphs, by former arts, Difplay their various nets for hearts: Their looks are all by method fet, When to be prude, and when coquette; Yet, wanting kill and power to choofe, Their only pride is to refufe. But when a goddess would bestow Her love on fome bright youth below, Round all the earth fhe cafts her eyes; And then, defcending from the skies, Makes choice of him the fancies beft, And bids the ravish'd youth be blefs'd.
Thus the bright Empress of the Morn Chofe, for her spouse, a mortal born: The Goddefs made advances firft; Elfe what afpiring hero durft? Though, like a virgin of fifteen, She blushes when by mortals feen; Still blufhes, and with fpeed retires, When Sol pursues her with his fres.
Diana thus, Heaven's chafteft queen,
Struck with Endymion's graceful mien,
Down from her hlver chariot came,
And to the Shepherd owned her flame.
Thus Ca'endifh, as Aurora bright,
And chafter than the Queen of Night,
Defcended from her fphere, to find
A mortal of fuperior kind.
IN SICKNESS.
Writted in IRELAND, October, 1714
Trofee my life to faft decline?
IS true then why should I repine
But why obfcurely here alone,
Where I am neither lov'd nor known?
My ftate of health none care to learn;
My life is here no foul's concern:
And thofe with whom I now converfe,
Without a tear will tend my hearfe.
Remov'd from kind Arbuthnot's aid,
Who knows his art, but not his trade,
Preferring his regard for me
Before his credit or his fee.
Some formal vifits, looks, and word,
What mere humanity affords,
I meet perhaps from three or four,
From whom I once expected more;
|