Toft in the waves of this tempeftuous world,
At length, his anchor fixt and canvas furl'd,
To Lazy-hill* retiring from his court,
At his Ring's-end † he founders in the port.
With water fill'd, he could no longer float,
The common death of many a ftronger boat.
A poft fo fill'd on nature's laws entrenches:
Benches on boats are plac'd, not boats on benches.
And yet our Boat (how fhall I reconcile it?)
Was both a Boat, and in one sense a pilot.
With every wind he fail'd, and well could tack:
Had many pendents, but abhorr'd a Jack §.
He's gone, although his friends began to hope,
That he might yet be lifted by a rope.
Behold the awful bench, on which he fat!
He was as hard and ponderous wood as that:
Yet, when his fand was out, we find at last,
That death has overset him with a blast.
Our Boat is now fail'd to the Stygian ferry,
There to fupply old Charon's leaky wherry :
Charon in him will ferry fouls to hell;
A trade our Boat || has practis'd here so well :
And Cerberus has ready in his paws
Both pitch and brimftone, to fill up
his flaws.
Yet, fpite of death and fate, I here maintain
We may place Boat in his old poft again.
The way is thus; and well deferves your thanks :
Take the three strongest of his broken planks,
* A ftreet in Dublin leading to the harbour.
+ A village near the sea.
It was faid he died of a dropsy.
A cant word for a Jacobite.
In condemning malefactors, as a judge.
Fix them on high, confpicuous to be seen,
Form'd like the triple-tree near Stephen's green *;
And, when we view it thus with thief at end on 't,
We'll cry; look, here's our Boat, and there's the pen-
dant.
HERE lies judge Boat within a coffin;
Pray, gentle-folks, forbear your scoffing.
A Boat a judge! yes; where's the blunder?
A wooden judge is no fuch wonder.
And in his robes, you muft agree,
No boat was better deckt than he.
'Tis needless to defcribe him fuller;
In fhort, he was an able fculler.
PETHOX THE GREAT. 1723.
FROM Venus born, thy beauty shows;
But who thy father, no man knows:
Nor can the fkilful herald trace
The founder of thy ancient race;
Whether thy temper, full of fire,
Difcovers Vulcan for thy fire,
The god who made Scamander boil,
And round his margin fing'd the foil;
• Where the Dublin gallows ftands.
This name is plainly an anagram.
(From whence, philofophers agree,
An equal power defcends to thee)
Whether from dreadful Mars you claim
The high defcent from whence you came,
And, as a proof, fhew numerous scars
By fierce encounters made in wars,
Those honourable wounds you bore
From head to foot, and all before,
And still the bloody field frequent,
Familiar in each leader's tent;
Or whether, as the learn'd contend,
You from the neighbouring Gaul defcend;
Or from Parthenope the proud,
Where numberlefs thy votaries crowd;
Whether thy great forefathers came
From realms that bear Vespufio's name,
For fo conjecturers would obtrude
And from thy painted skin conclude;
Whether, as Epicurus fhows,
The world from juftling feeds arose,
Which, mingling with prolific ftrife
In chaos, kindled into life:
So your production was the fame,
And from contending atoms came.
Thy fair indulgent mother crown'd
Thy head with sparkling rubies round :
Beneath thy decent fteps the road
Is all with precious jewels ftrow'd.
The bird of Pallas knows his post,
Thee to attend, where'er thou goest.
Byzantians boast, that on the clod
Where once their Sultan's horse hath trod,
Grows neither grafs, nor fhrub, nor tree:
The fame thy fubjects boaft of thee.
The greatest lord, when you appear,
Will deign your livery to wear,
In all the various colours feen
Of red and yellow, blue and green.
With half a word, when you require,
The man of business must retire.
The haughty minister of state,
With trembling must thy leisure wait;
And, while his fate is in thy hands,
The business of the nation ftands.
Thou dar'ft the greatest prince attack,
Canft hourly fet him on the rack;
And, as an inftance of thy power,
Inclose him in a wooden tower,
With pungent pains on every fide:
So Regulus in torments dy'd.
From thee our youth all virtues learn,
Dangers with prudence to difcern;
And well thy scholars are endued ·
With temperance, and with fortitude;
With patience, which all ills fupports ;
And fecrefy, the art of courts.
The glittering beau could hardly tell,
Without your aid, to read or spell;
But, having long convers'd with you,
Knows how to write a billet-doux.
With what delight, methinks, I trace
Your blood in every noble race!
In whom thy features, shape, and mien,
Are to the life distinctly seen!
The Britons, once a favage kind,
By you were brighten'd and refin'd,
Defcendants to the barbarous Huns,
With limbs robuft, and voice that stuns:
But you have moulded them afresh,
Remov'd the tough fuperfluous flesh,
Taught them to modulate their tongues,
And speak without the help of lungs.
Proteus on you beftow'd the boon
To change your visage like the moon ;
You fometimes half a face produce,
Keep t' other half for private use.
How fam'd thy conduct in the fight
With Hermes, fon of Pleias bright!
Out-number'd, half encompass'd round,
You ftrove for every inch of ground;
Then, by a foldierly retreat,
Retir'd to your imperial feat.
The victor, when your fteps he trac'd,
Found all the realms before him wafte:
You, o'er the high triumphal arch
Pontific, made your glorious march
The wondrous arch behind you fell,
And left a chafm profound as hell:
You, in your capitol fecur'd,
A fiege as long as Troy endur'd.
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