I only wear it in a land of Hectors, Thieves, Supercargoes, Sharpers, and Directors, Slides into verfe, and hitches in a rhyme, 76 80 Slander or Poifon dread from Delia's rage, Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels; 85 Then, learned Sir! (to cut the matter short) Whate'er my fate, or well or ill at Court, Whether Old age, with faint but chearful ray, Attends to gild the Ev'ning of my day, Or Death's black wing already be display'd, 95 To wrap me in the universal shade; Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write; In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, III P. What? arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen, Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men; Dash the proud Gamester in his gilded car; Bare the mean Heart that lurks beneath a Star; Can there be wanting, to defend Her cause, Lights of the Church, or Guardians of the Laws ? Could penfion'd Boileau lash in honest strain Flatt'rers and Bigots ev'n in Louis' reign? Could Laureate Dryden Pimp and Fry'r engage, Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage? And I not strip the gilding off a Knave, Unplac'd, unpenfion'd, no man's heir, or flave? I will, or perish in the gen'rous caufe; Hear this, and tremble! you, who 'fcape the Laws. Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave 115 Shall walk the world, in credit, to his grave. 120 TO VIRTUE ONLY and HER FRIENDS A FRIEND, The World befide may murmur, or commend. Know, all the distant din that world can keep Rolls o'er my Grotto, and but fooths my fleep. There, my retreat the best Companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and Statesmen out of place. There ST. JOHN minglee with my friendly bowl The Feast of Reason, and the Flow of Soul: And HE, whofe lightning pierc'd th'Iberian Lines, Now forms my Quincunx, and now ranks my Vines, Or tames the Genius of the stubborn plain, 131 Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain. 140 Envy must own, I live among the Great, No Pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state, With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats, Fond to fpread friendships, but to cover heats; To help who want, to forward who excel; This, all who know me, know; who love me, tell; And who unknown defame me, let them be Scribblers or Peers, alike are Mob to me. This is my plea, on this I reft my causeWhat faith my Council, learned in the laws? F. Your plea is good; but ftill I fay, beware! Laws are explain'd by Men-fo have a care. It stands on record that in Richard's times A man was hang'd for very honeft rhymes. Confult the ftatute: quart. I think, it is, Edwardi fext."or prim. et quint. Eliz. See Libels, Satires-here you have it—read. P. Libels and Satires! lawless things indeed! But grave Epiftles, bringing Vice to light, Such as a King might read, a Bishop write, Such as Sir ROBERT would approve 145 151 F. Indeed? The Cafe is alter'd-you may then proceed; 155 Earl of Peterborough. ΤΟ A PLAY FOR MR. DENNIS'S BENEFIT, IN 1733, WHEN HE WAS OLD, BLIND, TLE BEFORE HIS DEATH. BY THE SAME. 5 As when that Hero, who in each Campaign, Stood up to dash each vain Pretender's hope, Maul the French Tyrant, or pull down the Pope! If there's a Briton then, true bred and born, Who holds Dragoons and wooden shoes in fcorn; If there's a Critic of diftinguish'd rage; 21 If there's a Senior, who contemns this age; EPITAPH S. BY THE SAME. ON JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ. IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY. STATESMAN, yet friend to truth! of foul fincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear! Prais'd, wept, and honour'd by the Mufe he lov'd. |