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And certain Laws, by fuff'rers thought unjust, 60
Hopes after hopes of pious Papists fail'd,
While mighty WILLIAM's thund'ring arm prevail'd.
He stuck to poverty with peace of mind;
But (thanks to Homer) fince 1 live and thrive,
Sure I fhould want the care of ten Monroes,
Years foll'wing years, fteal fomething ev'ry day.
VER. 70, Monroes,] Dr. Monroe, Phyfician to Bedlam-Hofpital. P.
VER. 73. At laft they feal us from ourselves away;] i. e. Time changes all our paffions, appetites, and inclinations.
Carmine tu gaudes: hic delectatur iambis ;
Ille Bioneis fermonibus, et fale nigro.
Tres mihi convivae prope diffentire videntur,
Pofcentes vario multum diverfa palato.
Quid dem? quid non dem? renuis quod tu, jubet alter:
Quod petis, id fane est invisum acidumque duobus.
"Purae funt plateae, nihil ut meditantibus obftet.” Feftinat calidus mulis gerulifque redemtor:
Torquet nunc lapidem, nunc ingens machina tignum :
VER. 87. Oldfield - Dartineuf] Two celebrated Gluttons. This inftance adds a beauty to the whole paffage,
When this Heroics only deigns to praise,
i But grant I may relapfe, for want of grace, Again to rhime; can London be the place? Who there his Mufe, or felf, or foul attends, In crouds, and courts, law, business, feafts, and friends?
My counsel sends to execute a deed:
A Poet begs me, I will hear him read:
In Palace-yard at nine you'll find me there
At ten for certain, Sir, in Bloomfb'ry fquare-
God knows, may hurt the very ableft head.
as intimating that the demand for verfe is only a fpecies of luxury.
Triftia robuftis luctantur funera plauftris :
Hac rabiofa fugit canis, hac lutulenta ruit fus.
Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, et fugit urbes,
Ingenium, fibi quod vacuas defumfit Athenas,
Et ftudiis annos feptem dedit, infenuitque
Plerumque, et rifu populum quatit: hic ego rerum
VER. 104. Have you not seen, etc.] The fatirical pleafantry of this image, and the humourous manner of reprefenting it, raises the imitation, in this place, far above the original.
VER. 113. Would drink and doze, etc.] This has not the delicacy, or elegant ambiguity of,
Rite cliens Bacchi, fomno gaudentis et umbra.
Have you not feen, at Guild-hall's narrow pass,
* Go, lofty Poet! and in such a croud,
How match the bards whom none e'er match'd before?
And here, while town, and court, and city roars,
where the intemperance of Poets is not the obvious, but the Secret meaning. For Bacchus was the patron of the Drama as well as of the Bottle; and fleep was courted for inspiration, as well as to relieve a debauch.
Ibid. Tooting-Earl's Court.] Two villages within a few miles of London.
VER. 124. With mobs, and duns, and foldiers at their