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First Health: The ftomach (cramm'd from every dish, A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish, Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, And all the man is one intestine war) Remembers oft the School-boy's fimple fare, The temperate fleeps, and fpirits light as air. How pale, each Worshipful and Reverend gueft 75 Rife from a Clergy, or a City feaft! What life in all that ample body, say? What heavenly particle infpires the clay? The Soul fubfides, and wickedly inclines 'To feem but mortal, ev'n in found Divines.


f On morning wings how active springs the Mind That leaves the load of yesterday behind! How eafy every labour it pursues! How coming to the Poet every Muse!


Afferat. In primis valeas bene; nam variae res
Ut noceant homini, credas, memor illius efcae,
Quae fimplex olim tibi federit. at fimul affis
Mifcueris elixa, fimul conchylia turdis;
Dulcia fe in bilem vertent, ftomachoque tumultum
Lenta feret pituita. Vides, ut pallidus omnis
Coena defurgat dubia? quin corpus onuftum
Hefternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una,
Atque affigit humo divinae particulam aurae.
fAlter, ubi dicto citius curata fopori


Membra dedit, vegetus praefcripta ad munia furgit. Hic tamen ad melius poterit tranfcurrere quondam; Sive diem feftum rediens advexerit annus,

Not but we may exceed, some holy time,
Or tir'd in search of Truth, or fearch of Rhyme;
Ill health fome just indulgence may engage;
And more the fickness of long life, Old-age;


For fainting Age what cordial drop remains, If our intemperate Youth the veffel drains?

i Our fathers prais'd_rank Ven'fon. You fuppofe, Perhaps, young men ! our fathers had no nose. Not fo: a Buck was then a week's repast, And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last; 94 More pleas'd to keep it till their friends could come, Than eat the fweetest by themselves at home. k Why had not I in thofe good times my birth, Ere coxcomb pyes or coxcombs were on earth? Unworthy he, the voice of Fame to hear, That fweeteft mufic to an honeft ear;

Seu recreare volet tenuatum corpus: ubique
Accedent anni, et tractari mollius aetas
Imbecilla volet. Tibi quidnam accedet ad istam,
Quam puer et validus praefumis, mollitiem; feu
Dura valetudo inciderit, feu tarda fenectus?

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i Rancidum aprum antiqui laudabant: non quia nafus Illis nullus erat; fed, credo, hac mente, quod hofpes Tardius adveniens vitiatum commodius, quam Integram edax dominus confumeret. k hos utinam inter Heroas natum tellus me prima tulisset.

1 Das aliquid famae, quae carmine gratior aurem Occupet humanam? grandes rhombi, patinaeque Grande ferunt una cum damno dedecus. adde

(For 'faith, Lord Fanny! you are in the wrong,
The world's good word is better than a fong)
Who has not learn'd, fresh fturgeon and ham-pye
Are no rewards for want, and infamy!

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When Luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf,
Curs'd be thy neighbours, thy truftees, thyself,
To friends, to fortune, to mankind a shame,
Think how pofterity will treat thy name;
And buy a rope, that future times may tell
Thou haft at least bestow'd one penny well.
"Right, cries his Lordship, for a rogue
"To have a tafte, is infolence indeed:
"In me 'tis noble, fuits my birth and state,

in need


My wealth unwieldy, 9 and my heap too great."
Then, like the Sun, let Bounty spread her ray,
And shine that fuperfluity away.


Oh Impudence of wealth! with all thy ftore,
How dar'ft thou let one worthy man be poor?

Iratum patruum, vicinos, te tibi iniquum, Et fruftra mortis cupidum, cum deerit egenti • As, laquei pretium.



P Jure, inquit, Traufius iftis

Jugatur verbis: ego vectigalia magna,
Divitiafque habeo tribus amplas regibus. Ergo,
Quod fuperat, non eft melius quo infumere poffis?
Cur eget indignus quifquam, te divite? quare


Templa ruunt antiqui Deûm ? cur improbe, carae Non aliquid patriae tanto emetiris acervo?

Uni nimirum tibi recte femper erunt res?

Shall half the new-built churches round thee fall?
Make Keys, build Bridges, or repair Whitehall: 120
Or to thy Country let that heap be lent,
As M**o's was, but not at five per cent.

• Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her mind, Prepares a dreadful jeft for all mankind. And who ftands fafeft? tell me, is it he That spreads and fwells in puff'd Profperity, Or bleft with little, whofe preventing care In peace provides fit arms against a war?


Thus BETHEL fpoke, who always fpeaks his thought, 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 thousands, than if now w Excis'd; In foreft planted by a Father's hand, Than in five acres now of rented land.




Quam nunc accifis. Videas, metato in agello,
Cum pecore et gnatis, fortem mercede colonum,
Non ego, narrantem, temere edi luce profesta

O magnus pofthac inimicis rifus! uterne
Ad cafus dubios fidet fibi certius? hic, qui
Pluribus affuêrit mentem corpufque fuperbum;
An qui contentus parvo metuenfque futuri,
In pace, ut fapiens, aptarit idonea bello?


Quo magis his credas: puer hunc ego parvus Ofellum Integris opibus novi non latius ufum,

Content with little I can piddle here

On brocoli and mutton, round the year;
But y ancient friends (though poor, or out of play)
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away.
'Tis true, no z Turbots dignify my boards,
But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords:
To Hounslow-heath I point, and Banfted-down,
Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my own:
* From yon old walnut-tree a shower shall fall; 145
And grapes, long-lingering on my only wall,
And figs from ftandard and efpalier join;
The devil is in you if you cannot dine:



Then chearful healths (your Mistress shall have place); And, what's more rare, a Poet shall say Grace. Fortune not much of humbling me can boast: Though double tax'd, how little have I loft!




Quidquam, praeter olus fumofae cum pede pernae..
Ac mihi feu y longum poft tempus venerat hofpes,
Sive operum vacuo gratus conviva per imbrem
Vicinus; bene erat, non pifcibus urbe petitis,
Sed pullo atque hoedo: tum a penfilis uva fecundas
Et nux ornabat menfas, cum duplice ficu.
Poft hoc ludus erat b cuppa potare magistra:
Ac venerata Ceres, ita culmo furgeret alto,
Explicuit vino contractae feria frontis.

Saeviat atque novos moveat Fortuna tumultus! Quantum hinc imminuet? quanto aut ego parcius, aut


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