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Befides, a fate attends on all I write,
That when I aim at praise, they say m I bite.
A vile Encomium doubly ridicules:
There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools.
If true, a woful likeness; and if lyes,

" Praise undeserv'd is scandal in difguise:"

410

415

Well may hep blush, who gives it, or receives;
And when I flatter, let my dirty leaves
(Like Journals, Odes, and fuch forgotten things
As Eusden, Philips, Settle, writ of Kings)

Cloath spice, line trunks, or flutt'ring in a row,

Befringe the rails of Bedlam and Soho.

THE

SECOND EPISTLE

OF THE

SECOND BOOK

OF

HORACE.

Ludentis fpeciem dabit, et torquebitur. Hor.

EPISTOLA II.

F

LORE, bono claroque fidelis amice Neroni, b Si quis forte velit puerum tibi vendere natum Tibure vel Gabiis, et tecum fic agat: "Hic et "Candidus, et talos a vertice pulcher ad imos, "Fict eritque tuus nummorum millibus octo; "Verna ministeriis ad nutus aptus heriles;

"Litterulis Graecis imbutus, idoneus arti

"Cuilibet: argilla quidvis imitaberis uda :

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Quin etiam canet indoctum, sed dulce bibenti.

"Multa fidem promissa levant, ubi plenius aequo

"Laudat venales, qui vult extrudere, merces.

"Res urget me nulla: meo fum pauper in aere.

NOTES.

VER. 4. This Lad, Sir, is of Blois :) A Town in Beauce,

where the French tongue is spoken in great purity. would I

VER. 15. But, Sir, to you, with what

not part?]

EPISTLE II.

DEAR Col'nel, COBHAM's and your country's

Friend!

You love a Verse, take such as I can fend. A Frenchman comes, presents you with his Boy, Bows and begins---" This Lad, Sir, is of Blois : "Observe his shape how clean! his locks how curl'd! "My only fon, I'd have him fee the world : 6 "His French is pure; his Voice too--you shall hear. "Sir, he's your flave, for twenty pound a year. "Mere wax as yet, you fashion him with ease, "Your Barber, Cook, Upholst'rer, what you please : "A perfect genius at an Opra-song --"To say too much, might do my honour wrong. "Take him with all his virtues, on my word; "His whole ambition was to serve a Lord; "But, Sir, to you, with what would I not part ? 15 "Tho' faith, I fear, 'twill break his Mother's heart. “Once (and but once) I caught him in a lye, "And then, unwhipp'd, he had the grace to cry:

NOTES.

II

The numbers well express the unwillingness of parting with what one can ill spare.

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