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Think that thofe Guefts,who on thyDainties dine, Who praife thy Venifon and extoll thy Wine, Will, at thy Auction, laugh at thy Undoing, And blame the Cully whom they help'd to ruin. Think that, like Lloyd, defpairing in the Fleet, Or forc'd, like Wilkes and Kidgell, to retreat, Shunn'd by thy Friends, neglected by thy Wife, Depriv'd at length of Comfort, Hope, and Life, Thou scarce enough to buy a Shroud mayst save, And want, like Theodore, a Parish-Grave.

True, fays his Grace, 'tis proper to rebuke Such awkward Baronets as ape the Duke, 'Who treat with Burgundy, at Arthur's bet, "Who keep French Valets, and who drive a Set But what are thefe dull Morals to a Peer,

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Whose annual Income is twelve thoufand clear?'

Why then, my Lord, is this fuperfluous Store By daily Purchases augmented more? Why do our Sailors, Shipwrights, Weavers fly To France, or Spain, or India's distant Sky? Why do th' Ingenious ftarve, th' Industrious fail? Why theseComplaints, these Cries from every Jail? Hafte then, and chear thefe worthy honeft Hearts, Bid Trade revive, and raise the drooping Arts; Make Roads, build Bridges, or Long-Acre pave, And one Tax more on Beer or Cyder fave. Befides, will Heaven thy Hopes for ever crown, And no dire Change, no fad Reverfe, be known?

On

On Pimps, or Cheats, one lucklefs Deal or Throw
Thy Plate, thy Stud, thy Manors may bestow:
Our Sons, ourselves, may fee thy Stocks and Lands
Transferr'd and vefted in Plebeian Hands.
Whofe now is Anfon's, whofe is Chandos' Seat?
What Dukes begin their Tradefmen may complete.
Reflect on Strafford's, Hyde's, and Ormond's Fall!
Ev'n Burleigh-House may be like Wharton-Hall.

When bleft with Peace and Plenty, we with Care
Should fill our Garners, and our Fleets repair;
Not wait fupine, till Famine, or the Foe,
Our Vitals feize, and strike some fatal Blow.
*A Cavalier (the Men of ancient Date
When young, remember what I here relate)
Was bleft with Wealth, yet frugal'midft his Store,
Was never heard to figh, or covet more.
'Twas at the Time, when, taught by Cromwell's
Civil Confufion overfpread the Land:

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He too with others fuffer'd in the Caufe, And faw his Right expiring with the Laws. The brave old Man comply'd without a Groan, And earn'd his Bread, in fpite of Wind and Sun, A Labourer in Fields, but Yesterday his own. 'And is,' he smiling faid, 'the Change so great? 'I ever was before-hand with my Fate. 'When Heav'n around me all its Bleffings ftrow'd, 'My Heart ne'er wanton'd, nor my Bowl o'erflow'd.

*The Remainder is by another Hand.

• A Stranger

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A Stranger to Variety and Coft,

(Unless fome Holiday would have me roast) I liv'd on little: Happy was my Lot;

A Fritter in the Pan, or Bacon in the Pot.

But if an old Acquaintance, with Delight, After a tedious Abfence, blefs'd my Sight; Or a good Neighbour, in a rainy Hour, Kindly dropp'd in to chat away a Shower; 'Twas well: I fought not what the Shops afford To the fleek Citizen, or high-fed Lord. No wanton Sauce gave Riot to the Dish; No Stream was troubled for Supply of Fish: 'A Barn-door Fowl, or Mountain-Kid went down • As well as Dainties from a Market-Town. A Sallad might be added for the Guest, And Golden-Pippins made a fecond Feast. Perhaps, though idly, innocently gay,

At Riddles, Questions and Commands, we play: Talk of old Times; and o'er the laughing Ale Toaft the blithe Lafs, or tell the mirthfulTale; Wishing for Times more honeft and lefs dear, A plenteous Harveft, and a fruitful Year.

'Let Fortune vainly rave, by my Confent, Play all her Tricks, and all her Malice vent, Shifting her alterable Look each Day;

• And take the little that is left away :

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While I, regardless of her Female Mind,

Laugh at the foolish Idol of Mankind.

Tell

* Tell me, my Children, were you more at Ease, ◄ EreWinds difturb'd the Calmness of your Days? Amidst exorbitant and Rebel Grants,

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Has Providence been thrifty to your Wants?
Or, fince this rough, fanatical Dragoon,
This canting Lord his Tyranny begun,

Say, has our homely Food less sumptuous prov'd?
Say, have we liv'd lefs happy, or less lov’d?

Trace from the Conqueft, and you'll rarely find
The fame Eftate to the fame Blood confin'd.
"This lawless Soldier robb'd me of my
Due;
"Him too the Law may in its Turn undo:
'Or grant his Title be remov'd from Doubt,
• His Heir, infallibly, will fee him out.

The Farm,'tis true, went whilom by my Name, "Where Folks enquir'd for Goodman and his Dame: • The Tone is chang'd; and who on Vifits come Afk is the Colonel, or his Spouse at home.

Who knows butTime, in rolling on, may mend,
And angry Fortune be once more my Friend?
Who knows, but yet our Lands may be reftor'd,
And the pleas'd Hovel own its former Lord?

Come then, my Boys, for Heaven is on your
Side,

• With manly Sinews bear against the Tide,
• Patience our Strength and Honefty our Guide.'

SATIRE

1

SATIRE III.

DAMASIPPUS. HORACE.

By Mr. J. DUNCOMBE.

In this Dialogue Damafippus explains at large, and illuftrates by varicus Examples, the Doctrine of the Stoics, That every wicked Man is a Fool, or Lunatic, as he himself had learned it in a Lecture from the Stoic Philofopher Stertinius..

I DAMASIPPUS.

IF Writing feems fo difficult a Task,

you

afk,

That scarce four times a Year for Pens
Nicely retouching all your former Lays,
And nought produce that merits public Praife,
Tho' confcious you indulge in Sleep and Wine;
For this, if poffible, fome Plea affign.
Hither from 2 Saturn's Revel-rout you fly:
Then with your Promife now at last comply.
Begin. What! Nothing-Nay, your 3 Pens from
Guilt

Are free, the Wall with no ill Stars was built.
Yet glorious Feats you threaten'd to perform,
Soon as you reach'd your Villa, fnug and warm.
Why to 4 Merander is your 5 Plato join'd?
Or why not leave 6 Archilochus behind,
And 7 Eupolis? - Think you to blunt the Dart
Of Envy, when from Virtue you depart?

Wretch

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