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From furious Sappho scarce a milder fate,
P-x'd by her love, or libell'd by her hate.
Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels ;

85 Bulls aim their horns, and asses lift their heels ; 'Tis a bear's talent not to kick, but hug ; And no man wonders he's not stung by pug. So drink with Walters, or with Chartres eat, They'll never poison you, they'll only cheat.

Then, learned Sir! (to cut the matter short)

fate, or well or

ill at court, Whether old age, with faint but cheerful

ray, Attends to gild the ev’ning of my day, Or death's black wing already be display'd, 95 To wrap me in the universal shade ; Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write ; In durance, exile, bedlam, or the mint, Like Lee or Budgel, I will rhyme and print.

F. Alas, young man! your days can ne'er be long ; In flow'r of age you perish for a song ! Plums and directors, Shylock and his wife, Will club their testers, now, to take your

life! P. What ? arm’d for virtue when I point the pen, Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men ;

106 Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car ; Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a star ;



VER. 100. Like Lee or Budgel,] Lee, the dramatic writer, a true genius, is here coupled with Budgel.

I 20

Can there be wanting, to defend her cause,
Lights of the church, or guardians of the laws ?
Could pension’d Boileau lash in honest strain III
Flatt'rers and bigots e'en in Louis' reign?
Could Laureate Dryden pimp and fry'r engage,
Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage?
And I not strip the gilding off a kňave,

Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir, or slave?
I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause :
Hear this, and tremble ! you, who 'scape the laws.
Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave
Shall walk the world, in credit, to his grave. .
The world beside may murmur, or commend...7
Know, all the distant din that world can keep,
Rolls o'er my grotto, and but sooths my sleep.
There, my retreat the best companions grace, 125
Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place.
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl
The feast of reason and the flow of soul :
And HE, whose lightning pierc'd th' Iberian lines,
Now forms my quincunx, and now ranks my vines,
Or tames the genius of the stubborn plain, 131
Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.


VER. 129. And He, whose lightning, &c.] Charles Mordaunt Earl of Peterborow, who in the year 1705 took Barcelona, and in the winter following, with only 280 horse and 900 foot, enterprised and accomplished the conquest of Valentia.

Envy must own, I live



great, No pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state, With


pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats,
Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats; 136
To help who want, to forward who excel;
This all who know me, know; who love me, tell ;
And who unknown defame me, let them be
Scriblers or peers, alike are mob to me.

140 This is my plea, on this I rest my causeWhat saith my council, learned in the laws ?

F. Your plea is good ; but still I say, beware!
Laws are explain’d by men—so have a care.
It stands on record, that in Richard's times

145 A man was hang'd for very honest rhymes.

Consult the statute : quart. I think, it is,
Edwardi sext. or prim. et quint. Eliz.
See Libels, Satires-here


have it-read. P. Libels and Satires! lawless things indeed! 150 But grave epistles, bringing vice to light, Such as a king might read, a bishop write. Such as Sir ROBERT would


F. Indeed ? The case is alter'd-you may then proceed ; In such a cause the plaintiff will be hiss'd, 155 My lords the judges laugh, and you're dismiss'd.





WHAT, and how great, the virtue and the art

To live on little with a cheerful heart;
(A doctrine sage, but truly none of mine;)
Let's talk, my friends, but talk before we dine.
Not when a gi?t buffet's reflected pride

Turns you from sound philosophy aside ;
Not when from plate to plate your eye-balls roll,
And the brain dances to the mantling bowl.

Hear BETHEL's sermon, one not vers'd in schools, But strong in sense, and wise without the rules.

Go work, hunt, exercise! (he thus began,)
Then scorn a homely dinner, if
Your wine lock'd up, your butler stroll'd abroad,
Or fish deny'd, (the river yet unthaw'd,)
If then plain bread and milk will do the feat,
The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat.

Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men
Will choose a pheasant still before a hen;


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VER. 9. BETHEL] The same to whom several of Mr. Pope's Letters are addressed.

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