'Tis now no fecret; fhe, and fifty more, Obferve the symptoms I had once before: A fecond babe at Wapping must be plac'd, When I fcarce bear the charges of the laft. COR. What I could raife I fent; a pound of plums,
Five fhillings, and a coral for his gums;
To-morrow I intend him fomething more.
PHIL. I fent a frock and pair of fhoes before. COR. However, you fhall home with me to-night, Forget your cares, and revel in delight. I have in store a pint or two of wine, Some cracknels, and the remnant of a chine. And now on either fide, and all around, The weighty fhop-boards fall, and bars refound; Each ready femftrefs flips her pattins on, And ties her hood, preparing to be gone.
IDAS, we are in story told,
Turn'd every thing he touch'd to gold;
He chip'd his bread; the pieces round
Glitter'd like fpangles on the ground:
A codling, ere it went his lip in,
Would ftrait become a golden pippin:
He call'd for drink; you saw him sup
Potable gold in golden cup:
His empty paunch that he might fill,
He fuck'd his victuals through a quill:
Untouch'd it pafs'd between his grinders,
Or't had been happy for gold-finders:
He cock'd his hat, you would have faid
Mambrino's helm adorn'd his head:
Whene'er he chanc'd his hands to lay
On magazines of corn or hay,
Gold ready coin'd appear'd, inftead
Of paltry provender and bread;
Hence by wife farmers we are told,
Old hay is equal to old gold;
And hence a critic deep maintains,
We learn'd to weigh our gold by grains.
This fool had got a lucky hit;
And people fancy'd he had wit.
Two gods their skill in mufick try'd,
And both chofe Midas to decide;
He against Phoebus' harp decreed,
And gave it for Pan's oaten reed:
The god of wit, to fhew his grudge,
Clapt affes' ears upon the judge;
A goodly pair, erect and wide,
Which he could neither gild nor hide.
And now the virtue of his hands
Was loft among Pactolus' fands,
Against whofe torrent while he swims,
The golden fcurf peels off his limbs :
Fame spreads the news, and people travel
From far to gather golden gravel;
Midas, expos'd to all their jeers,
Had loft his art, and kept his ears.
This tale inclines the gentle reader
To think upon a certain leader;
To whom from Midas down, defcends
That virtue in the finger's ends.
What else by perquifites are meant,
By penfions, bribes, and three per cent.
By places and commiffions fold,
And turning dung itself to gold?
By ftarving in the midst of store,
As t'other Midas did before?
None e'er did modern Midas chufe,
Subject or patron of his Mufe,
But found him thus their merit fcan,
That Phoebus muft give place to Pan:
He values not the poet's praise,
Nor will exchange his plums for bays.
To Pan alone rich mifers call;
And there's the jeft, for Pan is ALL.
Here English wits will be to feek,
Howe'er, 'tis all one in the Greek.
Befides, it plainly now appears
Our Midas too has affes' ears;
Where every fool his mouth applies,
And whispers in a thousand lies;
Such grofs delufions could not pass
Through any ears but of an ass.
But gold defiles with frequent touch;
There's nothing fouls the hand fo much:
And scholars give it for the cause
Of British Midas' dirty paws;
Which, while the fenate ftrove to fcour,
They wash'd away the chymic power.
While he his utmoft ftrength apply'd,
To fwim against the popular tide,
The golden fpoils flew off apace,
Here fell a penfion, there a place:
The torrent mercilefs imbibes
Commiffions, perquifites, and bribes ;
By their own weight funk to the bottom;
Much good may do them that have caught 'em!
And Midas now neglected ftands,
With affes' ears, and dirty hands.
BEING THE INTENDED SPEECH OF
A FAMOUS ORATOR AGAINST PEACE*.
N Orator difmal of Nottinghamshire,
Who has forty years let out his confcience to hire,
Out of zeal for his country, and want of a place,
Is come up, vi et armis, to break the queen's peace.
He has vamp'd an old speech, and the court to their
forrow,
Shall hear him harangue againft Prior to-morrow.
When once he begins, he never will flinch,
But repeats the fame note a whole day, like a Finch.
I have heard all the fpeech repeated by Hoppy,
And, "Miftakes to prevent, I have gotten a copy."
WHEREAS, notwithstanding, I am in great pain, To hear we are making a peace without Spain;
The lord treasurer having hinted a wifh one evening that a ballad might be made on the earl of Nothingham, this fong was written and printed the next morning.
But, moft noble Senators, 'tis a great shame,
There fhould be a peace, while I'm Not-in-game.
The duke fhew'd me all his fine houfe; and the
duchefs
From her clofet brought out a full purfe in her
I talk'd of a peace, and they both gave a start,
His grace fwore by G-d, and her grace let a f―t:
My long old-fashion'd pocket was presently cramm'd;
And fooner than vote for a peace I'll be damın'd.
But fome will cry Turn-coat, and rip up old ftories,
How I always pretended to be for the Tories:
I anfwer; the Tories were in my good graces,
Till all my relations were put into places.
But ftill I'm in principle ever the fame,
And will quit my best friends, while I'm Not-ingame.
When I and fome others fubfcribed our names To a plot for expelling my mafter king James; I withdrew my fubfcription by help of a blot, And fo might discover or gain by the plot : I had my advantage and stood at defiance, For Daniel was got from the den of the lions: I came in without danger, and was I to blame? For, rather than hang, I would be Not-in-game.
I fwore to the Queen, that the prince of Hanover During her facred life would never come over: I made ufe of a trope; that " an heir to invite, "Was like keeping her monument always in fight." But, when I thought proper, I altered my note; And in her own hearing I boldly did vote,
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