This Village, unmolested yet Far Here let me rather live, my own, Doze o'er a Pipe, whofe Vapour bland In fweet Oblivion lulls the Land, * As ignorant as * Brafs is: Extoll the Days of good Queen BESS, Where TOBACCO loves to grow. THE THE PLEASURE of being OUT OF DEbt. HORACE, Ode XXII. Book 1. imitated. Integer vita fcelerifque purus, &c. T I. HE Man, who not a Farthing owes, Looks down with fcornful Eye on those, Who rife by Fraud and Cunning; Though in the Pig-market he ftand II. He paffes by each Shop in Town, He quaffs the Nectar of the Tuns, III. What Joy attends a new-paid Debt! Of Vifage wife and prudent; I on the Nail my Battels paid, Hear this, each Oxford Student! IV. With Juftice and with Truth to trace Exceeds all Man's recounting; Suffice, he look'd as grim and four Or half-ftarv'd Cat-a-Mountain. V. A Phiz fo grim you scarce can meet Dry Nurfe of Faces horrid! Not Not BUCKHORSE, fierce with many a Bruife, On his undaunted Forehead. VI. Place me on Scotland's bleakeft Hill, Hang ev'ry thought of Sorrow; There falling Sleet, or Froft, or Rain, VII. To Heddington then let me ftray, I'll ne'er complain of Phoebus; And toaft her in a Rebus. ODE |