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t Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind, Prepares a dreadful jeft for all mankind. And " who stands fafeft? tell me, is it he That spreads and fwells in puff'd Prosperity, Or bleft with little, whofe preventing care In peace provides fit arms against a war?
▾ Thus BETHEL fpoke, who always fpeaks his
And always thinks the very thing he ought:
His equal mind I copy what I can,
And as I love, would imitate the Man.
In South-fea days not happier, when furmis'd
The Lord of Thoufands, than if now Excis'd; 140 In foreft planted by a Father's hand,
Than in five acres now of rented land.
Content with little, I can piddle here
On brocoli and mutton, round the year;
But y ancient friends (tho' poor, or out of play)
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away.
'Tis true, no Turbots dignify my boards,
But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords:
apology for this liberty, in the preceding line, where he pays a fine compliment to Auguftus:
Templa ruunt antiqua Deûm ?
which oblique Panegyric the Imitator has very properly turned into a just stroke of fatire.
O pueri, nituiftis, ut huc novus incola venit?
VER. 156. And, what's more rare, a Poet Shall fay Grace.] The pleasantry of this line confifts in the supposed rarity of a Poet's having a table of his own; or a sense of gratitude for the bleffings he receives. But it contains,
To Hounslow-heath I point and Bansted-down,
Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my
* From yon old walnut-tree a show'r fhall fall; And grapes, long ling'ring on my only wall, And figs from standard and espalier join ;
The dev'l is in you if you cannot dine :
Then chearful healths (your Miftrefs fhall have place) And, what's more rare, a Poet shall fay Grace. 156 Fortune not much of humbling me can boaft;
Tho' double tax'd, how little have I loft?
My Life's amufements have been just the same,
And yours, my friends? thro' whofe free-opening gate None comes too early, none departs too late;
(For I, who hold fage Homer's rule the best, 165 Welcome the coming, fpeed the going guest.)
Pray heav'n it laft!
(cries SWIFT!) as you go on; "I wish to God this houfe had been your own: "Pity! to build, without a fon or wife: "Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life.” Well, if the use be mine, can it concern one, Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon?
too, a sober reproof of People of Condition, for their unmanly and brutal disuse of 10 natural a duty.
Nam & propriae telluris herum natura neque illum,
Nec me, nec quemquam ftatuit. nos expulit ille;
Illum aut nequities aut f vafri infcitia juris,
Poftremum expellet certe & vivacior heres.
* Nunc ager Umbreni fub nomine, nuper Ofelli
Dictus erat: nulli proprius; fed cedit in ufum
Nunc mihi, nunc alii, quocirca vivite fortes,
Fortiaque adverfis opponite pectora rebus.
VER. 183. proud Buckingham's etc.] Villers Duke of Buckingham. P.
VER. 185. Let lands and houses etc.] The turn of his
What's Property? dear Swift! you fee it alter
Or in pure f equity (the cafe not clear)
The Chanc'ry takes your rents for twenty year :
Who cries, "My father's damn'd, and all's my own.
h Shades, that to BACON could retreat afford,
And Hemsley, once proud Buckingham's delight,
i Let lands and houses have what Lords they will,
imitation, in the concluding part, obliged him to diverfify the fentiment. They are equally noble: but Horace's is expreffed with the greater force.