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Where (emulous of Chartres' fame)
To you (the all-envied gift of heaven)
In spite of tears, of mercy spite, My genius still must rail, and write. Haste to thy Twickenham's safe retreat, And mingle with the grumbling great: There, half devour'd by spleen, you 'll find The rhyming bubbler of mankind; There (objects of our mutual hate) We'll ridicule both church and state.
Di tibi formam Di iibi divitias dederunt, artemque fruendi. | Quid voveat dulci nutricula majus alumno,
Qui sapere, et fari possit quæ sentiat, et cui
non deficiente crumena ? 1 Inter spem curamque, timores inter et iras. Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse premum. Me pinguem et nitidum bene curata cute visca, Cum ridere voles Epicuri de grege porcum. VOL. II.
EPIGRAM ON MRS. TOFTS, A handsome Woman wilh a fine Voice, but very
covetous and proud.* So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song, As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along; But such is thy avarice and such is thy pride, That the beasts must have starved, and the poet
Where still so much is said,
The other never read.
TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER,
Venus, and Hercules.
When Kneller painted these ? 'Twas Friendship-warm as Phæbus, kind as Love,
And strong as Hercules.
* This epigram, first printed anonymously in Steele's Collection, and copied in the Miscellanies of Swift and Pope, is ascribed to Pope by sir John Hawking, in his History of Music--Mrs. Tofts, who was the daughter of a person in the family of Bishop Burnet, is celebrated as a singer little inferior, either for her voice or manner, to the best Italian women. She lived at the introduc. tion of the opera into this kingdom, and sung in compa. ny with Nicolini; but, being ignorant of Italian, chant. ed her recitative in English, in answer to his Italian; yet the charms of their voices overcame the absurdity.
+ It is not generally known that the person here meant was Dr. Robert Friend, head master of West. minuter school,
A FAREWELL TO LONDON.
In the Year 1715. DEAR, damn'd distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I 'll tease:
Ye harlots, sleep at ease.
Earl Warwick make your moan,
May knock up whores alone.
Till the third watchman toll;
Save three-pence and his soul.
On every learned sot,
Although he knows it not.
Farewell, unhappy Tonson!
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.
My vixen mistress squalls ;
And Homer (damn him!) calls.
In Halifax's urn;
grace to mourn. My friends, by turns, my friends confound,
Betray, and are betray'd :
And B******ll is a jade.
Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour seek?
I need but once a week.
Deep whimsies to contrive;
Most thinking rake alive.
Though fond of dear repose;
For sober, studious days!
For salads, tarts, and pease!
Whose soul sincere and free,
And so may starve with me.
A DIALOGUE. Pope. . SINCE my old friend is grown so great
As to be minister of state,
That Craggs will be ashamed of Pope. Craggs. Alas! if I am such a creature,
To grow the worse for growing greater,
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
ON AN OLD GATE
Erected in Chiswick Gardens.
Batter'd with wind and weather ;
Sir Hans Sloane
Let me alone :