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F. You're ftrangely proud.—P. So proud, I am no Slave,-
P. Aik you what Provocation I have had?
So odd, my Country's Ruin makes me grave. J
Pope's Epilogue to his Satires. Dial. II.
Printed for the Author, and fold by W. Flexney, near
A. T' £ TELL, Theorift,—may'ft thou not fail to find,
TM TM The balmy Vifions of a dreaming Mind: Be fruitlefs antiquated Virtue thine, Let D /, and Royal Smiles be mine.
B. Haft thou the Honour to be Britain s Son,
The horrid Project ihall not quite be fped,
A. If all your patriotic Efforts fail,
B. The Individual I'll, at preient, wave, And for our Country your Attention crave
Bolder, and bolder tho' Corruption draws More ftill, and more their Majefty from Laws, Yet while a Particle of Hope remains, Let other ChurchilFs wake their gen'rous Strains j Let honeft Englißjme7i ward off Defpair, Nor of their Country drop the pious Care.
In better Times, when in the State's Machine The j uft Effects ot Government were feen •>