His life, though long, to sickness pass'd unknown;
His death was instant, and without a groan.
O, grant me thus to live, and thus to die!
Who sprung from kings shall know less joy than I.
O friend, may each domestic bliss be thine;
Be no unpleasing melancholy mine.
Me, let the tender office long engage,
To rock the cradle of reposing age,

With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, 410
Make languor smile, and smoothe the bed of death,
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep awhile one parent from the sky!
On cares like these if length of days attend,
May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my
friend;

Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,
And just as rich as when he served a queen.*

A. Whether that blessing be denied or given, Thus far was right; the rest belongs to Heaven.

* Arbuthnot had been Queen Anne's favourite physician.

SATIRES AND EPISTLES

OF

HORACE IMITATED.

Ludentis speciem dabit, et torquebitur.-HORACE.

THE FIRST SATIRE

OF THE

SECOND BOOK OF HORACE IMITATED.

TO MR. FORTESCUE.*

P. THERE are, (I scarce can think it, but am told,)
There are, to whom my satire seems too bold:
Scarce to wise Peter + complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.
The lines are weak, another's pleased to say;
Lord Fanny § spins a thousand such a day.
Timorous by nature, of the rich in awe,
I come to counsel learned in the law:
You'll give me, like a friend both sage and free,
Advice; and, as you use, without a fee.

F. I'd write no more.

10

P. Not write? but then I think, And for my soul I cannot sleep a wink :

* A barrister, afterwards a judge, and Master of the Rolls.

Peter Walters. See Moral Essays, Ep. III., 1. 20, note.
Francis Chartres. Ibid., Ep. III., 1. 20, note.

§ Lord Hervey. See Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, p. 201, 1. 305, &c.

I nod in company, I wake at night;
Fools rush into my head, and so I write.

F. You could not do a worse thing for your life.
Why, if the nights seem tedious-take a wife :
Or rather truly, if your point be rest,
Lettuce and cowslip wine; probatum est.
But talk with Celsus; Celsus will advise
Hartshorn, or something that shall close your eyes.
Or, if you needs must write, write Cæsar's praise ;
You'll gain at least a knighthood, or the bays.

19

P. What? like Sir Richard,* rumbling, rough, and fierce,

With arms, and George, and Brunswick crowd the verse,

Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder, With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder?

Or nobly wild, with Budgell's fire and force,
Paint angels trembling round his falling horse?
F. Then all your Muse's softer art display;
Let Carolina smoothe the tuneful lay,
Lull with Amelia's § liquid name the Nine,
And sweetly flow through all the royal line.

30

P. Alas! few verses touch their nicer ear; They scarce can bear their Laureate twice a year; And justly Cæsar scorns the poet's lays :

It is to history he trusts for praise.

F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it still, Than ridicule all taste, blaspheme quadrille, Abuse the city's best good men in metre, And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter. E'en those you touch not, hate you.

39

P. What should ail them? F. A hundred smart in Timon || and in Balaam :T

* Sir Richard Blackmore, Kt. See Dunciad, Book I., 1. 104. note.

+ See Dunciad, Book II., 1. 397, note.

Caroline, Queen of George II.

$ Princess Amelia, daughter of George II. See Moral Essays, Ep. IV., 1. 99, note.

¶ Ibid, Ep. III., line 342, &c.

The fewer still you name, you wound the more ; Bond is but one, but Harpax is a score.

*

:

P. Each mortal has his pleasure none deny Scarsdale his bottle, Darty + his ham-pie: Ridotta sips and dances, till she see

The doubling lustres dance as fast as she; Floves the senate, Hockley-hole his brother,

Like in all else as one egg to another.

I love to pour out all myself, as plain

As downright Shippen,§ or as old Montaigne :
In them, as certain to be loved as seen,

50

60

The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought within;
In me what spots (for spots I have) appear
Will
prove at least the medium must be clear.
In this impartial glass, my Muse intends
Fair to expose myself, my foes, my friends;
Publish the present age; but where my text
Is vice too high, reserve it for the next :
My foes shall wish my life a longer date,
And every friend the less lament my fate.
My head and heart thus flowing through my quill,
Verse-man or prose-man, term me which you will,
Papist or Protestant, or both between,
Like good Erasmus in an honest mean;
In moderation placing all my glory,

While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run a muck, and tilt at all I meet :
I only wear it in a land of hectors,

Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.
Save but our army! and let Jove encrust
Swords, pikes, and guns with everlasting rust!

*Lord Scarsdale.

70

Darteneuf, paymaster of the Board of Works, a great

epicure.

Probably Henry Fox, first Lord Holland.

§ A Tory and Jacobite leader in the reigns of George I. and George II.; distinguished for his freedom of speech and love of liberty.