Page images
PDF
EPUB

TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER,
ON HIS PAINTING FOR ME THE STATUES OF APOLLO,

VENUS, AND HERcules.
What god, what genius did the pencil move

When Kneller painted these? "Twas Friendship--warm as Phæbus, kind as And strong as Hercules.

[Love,

A FAREWELL TO LONDON.

1715.
Dear, damn'd distracting town, farewell!

Thy fools do more I'll tease:
This year in peace, yo critics, dwell,

Ye harlots, sleep at ease)
Soft B— and roagh Ct, adieu !

Earl Warwick, make your moan,
The lively H- k and you

May knock up whores alone:
To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd

Till the third watchman toll;
Let Jervas gratis paint, and Frowde

Save three-pence and his soul.
Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery

On every learned sot,
And Garth, the best good Christian he,

Although he knows it not.
Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;

Farewell, unhappy Tonson !
Heaven gives thee, for thy loss of Rowe, .

Lean Philips, and fat Johnson."

Why should I stay? Both parties rage;

My vixen mistress squalls;
The wits in envious feuds engage;

And Homer (damn him !) calls.
The love of arts lies cold and dead

In Halifax's urn;
And not one Muse of all he fed,

Has yet the grace to mourn.
My friends, by turns, my friends confound,

Betray, and are betray’d:
Poor Y-r's sold for fifty pound,

And B- ll is a jade.
Why make I friendships with the great,

When I no favour seek?
Or follow girls seven hours in eight ?

I need but once a week.
Still idle, with a busy air,

Deep whimseys to contrive; The gayest valetudinaire,

Most thinking rake alive. Solicitous for other ends,

Though fond of dear repose; Careless or drowsy with my friends,

And frolic with my foes.
Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,

For sober, studious days!
And Burlington's delicious meal,

For salads, tarts, and pease!
Adieu to all but Gay alone,

Whose soul, sincere and free, Loves all mankind, but flatters none,

And so may starve with me.

EPIGRAM.

ENGRAVED ON THE COLLAR OF A DOG, WHICH I GAVE

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS.

I AM bis Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?

EPIGRAM.
OCCASIONED BY AN INVITATION TO COURT.
In the lines that you sent are the Muses and

Graces;
You’ve the Nine in your wit, and the Three in

your faces.

[ocr errors]

ON AN OLD GATE

ERECTED IN CHISWICK GARDENS.

O GATE, how camest thou here?
GATE. I was brought from Chelsea last year,

Batter'd with wind and weather.
Inigo Jones put me together.

Sir Hans Sloane,

Let me alone:
Burlington brought me hither.

1742.

A FRAGMENT...VERSES TO MR. C. 247

A FRAGMENT. Ah, friend ! 'tis true--this truth you lovers knowIn vain my structures rise, my gardens grow, In vain fair Thames reflects the double scenes, Of hanging mountains, and of sloping greens : Joy lives not here,-to happier seats it flies, And only dwells where Wortley casts her eyes. What are the gay parterre, the chequer'd shade, The morning bower, the evening colonnade, But soft recesses for uneasy minds, To sigh unheard in, to the passing winds ! So the struck deer, in some sequester'd part, Lies down to die, the arrow at his heart, He, stretch'd unseen in coverts hid from day, Bleeds drop by drop, and pants his life away.

VERSES TO MR. C.
ST. JAMES'S PLACE.

LONDON, OCTOBER 22.
Few words are best; I wish you well;

Bethel, I'm told, will soon be here:
Some morning-walks along the Mall,

And evening friends, will end the year. If, in this interval, between

The falling leaf and coming frost, You please to see, on Twit'nam green,

Your friend, your poet, and your host; For three whole days you here may rest,

From office, business, news, and strife; And (what most folks would think a jest)

Want nothing else, except your wife.

EPITAPHS.

His saltem accumulem donis, et fungar inani
Munere!

VIRG,

ON CHARLES EARL OF DORSET,

IN THE CHURCH OF WITHYAM, Sussex. DORSET, the grace of courts, the Muses' pride, Patron of arts, and judge of Nature, died ! The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great, Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state: Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Bless'd satirist! who touch'd the mean so true, As show'd vice had his hate and pity too. [please, Bless'd courtier! who could king and country Yet sacred keep his friendships and his ease. Bless'd peer! his great forefathers' every grace Reflecting, and reflected in his race; Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets, shine, And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.

ON SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL, ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE TO

KING WILLIAM JII. Who, having resigned his Place, died in his Retirement at

Easthamsted, Berkshire, 1716. A PLEASING form, a firm, yet cautious, mind; Sincere, though prudent; constant, yet resign'd: Honour unchanged, a principle profess’d, . Fix'd to one side, but moderate to the rest :

« PreviousContinue »