LONDON.

In Imitation of the Third Satire of JUVENAL.

This poem of Mr. Johnfon's is the beft imitation of the original that has appeared in our language, being poffeffed of all the force and fatyrical refentment of Juvenal. Imitation gives us a much truer idea of the ancients than even tranflation could do.

T

HO' grief and fondnefs in my breaft rebel,

When injur'd Thales bids the town farewel,
Yet ftill my calmer thoughts his choice commend,
I praife the hermit, but regret the friend;
Who now refolves, from vice and London far,
To breathe in diftant fields a purer air,
And, fix'd on Cambria's folitary fhore,
Give to St. David one true Briton more.

For who wou'd leave, unbrib'd, Hibernia's land,
Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand
There none are fwept by fudden fate away,
But all, whom hunger fpares, with age decay:
Here malice, rapine, accident, confpire;
And now a rabble rages, now a fire:
Their ambush here relentlefs ruffians lay,
And here the fell attorney prowls for prey:

Here falling houses thunder on your head,
And here a female atheist talks you dead.

While Thales waits the wherry that contains
Of diflipated wealth the fmall remains,
On Thames's bank in filent thought we stood,
Where Greenwich fmiles upon the filver flood.
Struck with the feat that gave Eliza birth,
We kneel, and kifs the confecrated earth;
In pleafing dreams the blissful age renew,
And call Britannia's glories back to view;
Behold her crofs triumphant on the main,
The guard of commerce and the dread of Spain.
Ere mafquerades debauch'd, excife opprefs'd,
Or English honour grew a ftanding jeft.

A tranfient calm the happy scenes bestow,
And, for a moment, lull the fense of woe.
At length awaking with contemptuous frown,
Indignant Thales eyes the neighb'ring town.

Since worth, he cries, in thefe degen'rate days,
Wants e'en the cheap reward of empty praife;
In thofe curft walls, devote to vice and gain,
Since unrewarded fcience toils in vain ;
Since hope but fooths to double my distress,
And ev'ry moment leaves my little lefs ;
While yet my fleady fteps no ftaff fuftains,
And life fill vig'rous revels in my veins ;
Grant me, kind heaven, to find fome happier place,
Where honefty and fenfe are no difgrace;
Some pleafing bank, where verdant ofiers play,
Some peaceful vale, with nature's painting gay;

Where

Where once the harrass'd Briton found repose,
And safe, in poverty, defy'd his foes:

Some fecret cell, ye pow'rs indulgent, give:
live here; for has learn'd to live.

Let

Here let those reign, whom penfions can incite
To vote a patriot black, a courtier white;
Explain their country's dear-bought rights away,
And plead for pirates in the face of day;
With flavish tenets taint our poinson'd youth,
And lend a lye the confidence of truth.
Let fuch raife palaces, and manors buy,
Collect a tax, or farm a lottery,

With warbling eunuchs fill a licens'd stage,
And lull to fervitude a thoughtless age.

Heroes proceed! what bounds your pride fhall hold?
What check restrain your thirst of pow'r and gold?
Behold rebellious virtue quite o'erthrown,
Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives your own.
To fuch, a groaning nation's fpoils are giv'n,
When public crimes inflame the wrath of heav'n:
But what, my friend, what hope remains for me,
Who start at theft, and blush at perjury?
Who scarce forbear, tho' Britain's court he fing,
To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing;
A ftatesman's logic unconvinc'd can hear,
And dare to flumber o'er the Gazetteer;
Despise a fool in half his penfion drefs'd,
And strive in vain to laugh at H―y's jeft.
Others with softer fmiles, and fubtler art,
Can fap the principles, or taint the heart;

With more addrefs a lover's note convey,

Or bribe a virgin's innocence away.

Well may they rife, while I, whofe rustic tongue
Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong,
Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy,
Live unregarded, unlamented die.

For what but focial guilt the friend endears?
Who fhares Orgilio's crimes, his fortune fhares:
But thou, fhould tempting villainy prefent,
All Marlb'rough hoarded, or all Villiers spent,
Turn from the glitt'ring bribe thy scornful eye,
Nor fell for gold, what gold could never buy,
The peaceful flumber, felf-approving day,
Unfullied fame, and confcience ever gay.

The cheated nation's happy fav'rites fee;
Mark whom the great carefs, who frown on me.
London! the needy villain's gen'ral home,
The common fewer of Paris and of Rome,
With eager thirft, by folly or by fate,
Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state;
Forgive my tranfports on a theme like this;
I cannot bear à French metropolis.

Illuftrious Edward! from the realms of day
The land of heroes and of faints furvey;
Nor hope the British lineaments to trace,
The ruftic grandeur, or the furly grace,
-But, loft in thoughtless eafe, and empty fhow,
Behold the warrior dwindled to a beau;
Senfe, freedom, piety, refin'd away,

Of France the mimic, and of Spain the prey.

All.

All that at home no more can beg or fteal, Or like a gibbet better than a wheel;

Hifs'd from the ftage, or hooted from the court, Their air, their drefs, their politics import; Obfequious, artful, voluble, and gay,

On Britain's fond credulity they prey.

No gainful trade their induftry can 'fcape,

They fing, they dance, clean fhoes, or cure a clap, All sciences a fafting Monfieur knows,

And bid him go to hell, to hell he goes.

Ah! what avails it, that, from flav'ry far, I drew the breath of life in English air; Was early taught a Briton's right to prize, And lifp the tales of Henry's victories; If the gull'd conqueror receives the chain, And flattery fubdues when arms are vain ? Studious to please, and ready to fubmit, The fapple Gaul was born a parafite: Still to his int'reft true, where-e'er he goes, Wit, bravery, worth, his lavish tongue beflows; In ev'ry face a thousand graces fhine, From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine. These arts in vain our rugged natives try, Strain out with fault'ring diffidence a lye, And gain a kick for aukward flattery.

Befides, with juftice this discerning age Admires their wondrous talents for the flage: Well may they venture on the mimic's art, Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; Practis'd their master's notions to embrace,

- Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face;