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[EGBERT SANGER served his apprenticeship with Jacob Tonson, and succeeded Bernard Lintot in his shop at Middle Temple Gate, Fleet-street. Lintot printed Ozell's Translation of Perrault's Characters, and Sanger his translation of Boileau's Lutrin, recommended by Mr. Rowe, anno 1709.] Warton.
OZELL, at Sanger's call invoked his muse,
THE LOOKING GLASS.
ON MRS. PULTENEY.
[Anna Maria Gumley, daughter of John Gumley, of Isleworth, was married to Pulteney, who received with her a very large fortune.
Her father gained his fortune by a glass manufactory; upon which circumstance, though hitherto unexplained, the force and elegance of this severe but pleasing composition turns.
These lines were suppressed, as Pope afterwards received great civilities from Pulteney.] Bowles.
WITH Scornful mien, and various toss of air,
She looks ambition, and she moves disdain.
A FAREWELL TO LONDON.
DEAR, damn'd, distracting town, farewell! Thy fools no more I'll teaze;
To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd
Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery
Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;
Why should I stay? Both parties rage;
The love of arts lies cold and dead
My friends, by turns, my friends confound,
Betray, and are betray'd;
Poor Yrs sold for fifty pounds,
Why make I friendships with the great,
Still idle, with a busy air,
Deep whimsies to contrive;
The gayest valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake alive.
Solicitous for other ends,
Though fond of dear repose;
Careless or drowsy with my friends,
Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,
And Burlington's delicious meal,
Adieu to all but Gay alone,
Whose soul, sincere and free,
Loves all mankind, but flatters none,
DESIGNED FOR MR. D'URFEY'S LAST PLAY.
(From Pope and Swift's Miscellanies.)
[POOR Tom D'Urfey, who stood the force of so much wit, was a play-wright and song-writer. He appears to have been an inoffensive, good-humoured, thoughtless character, and was endured and laughed at by Dryden, and by Steele, who recommended his benefit nights to the attention of the public, through the medium of the Tatler and Guardian, and at length by Pope, who in a spirit betwixt contempt and charity, wrote a prologue for his last play.] Sir Walter Scott.
GROWN old in rhyme, 'twere barbarous to discard
But your damn'd poet lives and writes again.
You modern wits, should each man bring his claim,
If all your debts to Greece and Rome were paid.