III., and taken down by George IV. in 1825, to make way for the present royal palace.]

WH

First sought a poet's fortune in the town,
'Twas all the ambition his high soul could feel,
To wear red stockings, and to dine with Steele.
Some ends of verse his betters might afford,
And gave the harmless fellow a good word.
Set up with these, he ventured on the town,
And with a borrow'd play, outdid poor Crowne,
There he stopp'd short, nor since has writ a tittle,
But has the wit to make the most of little :
Like stunted hide-bound trees, that just have got
Sufficient sap at once to bear and rot.
Now he begs verse, and what he gets commends,
Not of the wits his foes, but fools his friends.

5

10

So some coarse country wench, almost decay'd,
Trudges to town, and first turns chambermaid;
Awkward and supple, each devoir to pay;
She flatters her good lady twice a day;

Thought wondrous honest, though of mean degree,
And strangely liked for her simplicity:

In a translated suit, then tries the town,
With borrow'd pins, and patches not her own:
But just endured the winter she began,

And in four months a batter'd harridan.

Now nothing left, but wither'd, pale, and shrunk, 25
To bawd for others, and go shares with Punk.

[When first published in the Miscellanies the piece had the following note attached:-"He requested, by public advertisements, the aid of the ingenious to make up a Miscellany in 1713." Ambrose Philips seems to be the person satirized. On the accession of George I., when the Whigs obtained power, Philips was put into the commission of the peace, and appointed a Commissioner of the Lottery. He afterwards went to Ireland with Dr. Boulter, Primate of Ireland, and was made Registrar of the Prerogative Court at Dublin. The "borrowed play" was the "Distrest Mother," from Racine, which was highly successful. The allusion to "simplicity" is no doubt intended to refer to Philips's Pastorals, and that to the "translated suit" to his Persian Tales, translated for Tonson. The next piece, "Umbra," refers also to Philips, or to James Moore Smythe, the "phantom Moore" of the Dunciad. As Philips was a regular frequenter of Button's Coffee-house, and intimate with Steele, Addison, Tickell, &c., he was most likely the party.]

CLOSE

UMBRA.

to the best-known author Umbra sits,
The constant index to old Button's wits.
"Who's here ?" cries Umbra: 66
only Johnson,"--" O !
Your slave," and exit; but returns with Rowe:
"Dear Rowe, let's sit and talk of tragedies:"
Ere long Pope enters, and to Pope he flies.
Then up comes Steele: he turns upon his heel,
And in a moment fastens upon Steele;
But cries as soon, "Dear Dick, I must be gone,
For, if I know his tread, here's Addison."

5

10

Says Addison to Steele, ""Tis time to go;"
Pope to the closet steps aside with Rowe.
Poor Umbra, left in this abandon'd pickle,

E'en sits him down and writes to honest Tickell.
Fool! 'tis in vain from wit to wit to roam;
Know, sense, like charity, begins at home.

15

SANDYS' GHOST;

OR A PROPER NEW BALLAD ON THE NEW OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS: AS IT WAS INTENDED TO BE TRANSLATED BY PERSONS OF QUALITY.

[The last literary labour of Sir Samuel Garth, before his death in 1718, was engaging several " ingenious gentlemen," as he calls them, to undertake a translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses. Among these were Mainwaring, Croxall, Ozell, Vernon, Harvey, Leonard Welsted, &c. Garth himself translated the fourteenth book and part of the fifteenth, besides contributing a preface.]

YE Lords and Commons, men of wit,

And pleasure about town;

Read this ere you translate one bit

Of books of high renown.

Beware of Latin authors all!

Nor think your verses sterling,
Though with a golden pen you scrawl,
And scribble in a berlin :

For not the desk with silver nails,
Nor bureau of expense,

Nor standish well japann'd, avails

To writing of good sense.

Hear how a ghost in dead of night,

With saucer eyes of fire.

In woful wise did sore affright
A wit and courtly 'squire.

Rare imp of Phoebus, hopeful youth!

Like puppy tame that uses

To fetch and carry, in his mouth,

The works of all the Muses.

Ah! why did he write poetry,
That hereto was so civil;
And sell his soul for vanity,

To rhyming and the devil?

A desk he had of curious work,
With glittering studs about;
Within the same did Sandys lurk,1
Though Ovid lay without.

Now as he scratch'd to fetch up thought,
Forth popp'd the sprite so thin;
And from the key-hole bolted out,
All upright as a pin.

With whiskers, band, and pantaloon,
And ruff composed most duly;
This 'squire he dropp'd his pen full soon,
While as the light burnt bluely.

Ho, Master Sam, quoth Sandys' sprite,
Write on, nor let me scare ye;
Forsooth, if rhymes fall in not right,
To Budgell seek, or Carey.

I hear the beat of Jacob's drums,2

Poor Ovid finds no quarter!

See first the merry P

comes 3

In haste without his garter.

Then lords and lordlings, 'squires and knights,

Wits, witlings, prigs, and peers;

Garth at St. James's, and at White's,

Beats up for volunteers.

What Fenton will not do, nor Gay,

Nor Congreve, Rowe, nor Stanyan,
Tom B-t or Tom D'Urfey may,
John Dunton, Steele, or any one.

1 [Sandys (whom Dryden terms "the best versifier of the last age") pub

lished his translation of Ovid in 1627.]

2 [Jacob Tonson, the publisher.]

8 [The Earl of Pembroke.]

4

[Tom Burnet.]

If Justice Philips' costive head
Some frigid rhymes disburses;

They shall like Persian tales be read,
And glad both babes and nurses.

Let W-rw-k's muse with Ash-t join,5
And Ozell's with Lord Hervey's :
Tickell and Addison combine,

And P- pe translate with Jervas.

L- - himself, that lively lord,7
Who bows to every lady,

Shall join with F- 8 in one accord,
And be like Tate and Brady.

A metamorphosis more strange

Than all his books can vapour;

"To what (quoth 'squire) shall Ovid change?"
Quoth Sandys: "To waste paper."

5 [Lord Warwick and Dr. Ashurst.]

6 Pope.

7 Lord Lansdowne.

[Philip Frowde, a dramatic writer and fine scholar, a friend of Addison's.]

9 [Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Some of Lady Mary's Town Eclogues were published in 1716.]