"Illustrious Edward! from the realms of day, Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey. Hiss'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, On Britain's fond credulity they prey. No gainful trade their industry can 'scape, And, bid him go to hell, to hell he goes. Studious to please, and ready to submit, The supple Gaul was born a parasite : Still to his int'rest true, where'er he goes, Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows; • Rusticus ille tuus sumit trechedipna, Quirine, Et ceromatico fert niceteria collo. Ingenium velox, audacia perdita, sermo Promptus 4 Augur, schoenobates, medicus, magus: omnia novit. Græculus esuriens in cœlum, jusseris, ibit. Usque adeo nihil est, quod nostra infantia cœlum Hausit Aventinum ? • Quid? quod adulandi gens prudentissima laudat Sermonem indocti, faciem deformis amici ? And what their armies lost, their cringes gain. In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine, These arts in vain our rugged natives try, Besides, with justice, this discerning age And view each object with another's eye; For arts, like these, preferr'd, admir'd, caress'd, They first invade your table, then your breast; Explore your secrets with insidious art, Watch the weak hour, and ransack all the heart; Hæc eadem licet et nobis laudare: sed illis Creditur. "Natio comoda est. Rides? majore cachinno Concutitur, &e. * Non sumus ergo pares: melior, qui semper et omni Nocte dieque potest alienum sumere vultum, A facie jactare manus, laudare paratus, Si bene ructavit, si rectum minxit amicus. > Scire volunt secreta domus atque inde timeri. Then soon your ill-placed confidence repay, By numbers here from shame or censure free, This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke; Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, b Has heaven reserv'd, in pity to the poor, The Spaniards at this time were said to make claim to some of our American provinces. But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies: Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r, Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, Aghast you start, and scarce, with aching sight, Sustain th' approaching fire's tremendous light; Swift from pursuing horrours take your way, And leave your little ALL to flames a prey; dThen through the world a wretched vagrant roam; For where can starving merit find a home? In vain your mournful narrative disclose, While all neglect, and most insult your woes. Should heav'n's just bolts Orgilio's wealth confound, * And spread his flaming palace on the ground, Swift o'er the land the dismal rumour flies, And publick mournings pacify the skies; The laureate tribe in venal verse relate, How virtue wars with persecuting fate; 'With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land. See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come, And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome; The price of boroughs and of souls restore; And raise his treasures higher than before. Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great, The polish'd marble and the shining plate, g Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire, And hopes from angry heav'n another fire. Ærumnæ cumulus, quod nudum et frustra rogantem e Si magna Asturii cecidit domus, horrida mater : Pullati proceres, f -Jam accurrit, qui marmora donet, Conferat impensas: hic &c. g Hic modium argenti. Meliora, ac plura reponit Persicus orborum lautissimus * This was by Hitch, a bookseller, justly observed to be no picture of modern manners, though it might be true at Rome. MS. note in Dr. Johnson's hand-writing. Could'st thou resign the park and play, content, And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, prune thy walks, support thy drooping flowers, And bless thine evening walk and morning toil. Si potes avelli Circensibus, optima Soræ, Vive bidentis amans et culti villicus horti; Et subiti casus improvidus, ad cœnam si * Ebrius, ac petulans, qui nullum forte cecidit, -Sed, quamvis improbus annis, Atque mero fervens, cavet hunc, quem coccina læna Multum præterea flammarum, atque ænea lampas. And, while thy beds. |