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But I love elbow-room whene'er I drink;
And honest Harry * is too apt to stink.

Let no pretence of business make you stay;
Yet take one word of counsel by the way.
If Guernsey calls, send word you're gone abroad

; He'll teaze you with King Charles, and Bishop Laud, Or make you fast, and carry you to prayers : But, if he will break-in, and walk up stairs, Steal by the back-door out, and leave him there ; Then order Squash to call a hackney-chair.

PE ACE AND DUNKIRK.

Being an excellent new Song upon the Surrender of

DUNKIRK to General Hill. 1712.

To the Tune of, “ The King shall enjoy his own again.' ”

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blows;

SPITE
PITE of Dutch friends and English foes,

Poor Britain shall have peace at last:
Holland got towns, and we got
But Dunkirk's ours, we'll hold it fast.

We have got it in a string,
And the Whigs may

all

go swing,
For among good friends I love to be plain;

All their false deluded hopes

Will, or ought to end in ropes ; “ But the Queen shall enjoy her own again.”

Right Hon. Henry Boyle, inentioned twice befcre.

VOL. VII.

II. Sunder

II.
Sunderland's run out of his wits,

And Dismal double Difmal looks ;
Wharton can only swear by fits,
And strutting Hal is off the hooks,

Old Godolphin full of spleen,

Made false moves, and lost his queen; Harry look'd fierce, and shook his ragged mane :

But a prince of high renown

Swore he'd rather lose a crown, “ Than the Queen should enjoy her own again.”

III.
Our merchant-ships may cut the Line,

And not be snapt by privateers,
And commoners who love good wine
Will drink it now as well as peers :

Landed-men shall have their rent,

Yet our stocks rise cent. per cent.
The Dutch from hence shall no more millions drain:

We'll bring on us no more debts,

Nor with bankrupts fill Gazettes ;
And the Queen Mall enjoy her own again.”

IV.

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The towns we took ne'er did us good :

What fignified the French to beat ?
We spent our money and our blood,
To make the Dutchmen proud and great :

But the lord of Oxford swears,
Dunkirk never shall be theirs.

The

The Dutch-hearted Whigs may rail and complain; But true Englishmen may

fill A good health to General Hill ; “For the Queen now enjoys her own again.”

HORA GE, BOOK L E P. VII.

Addressed to the Earl of OXFORD, 1713.

IO

HARLEY, the nation's great support

, Returning home one day from court, (His mind with public cares pofseft, All Europe's business in his breast) Observ'd a parson near Whitehall

5 Cheapening old authors on a stall. The priest was pretty well in case, And shew'd some humour in his face; Look'd with an ealy, careless mien, A perfe&t stranger to the spleen ; Of size that might a pulpit fill, But more inclining to sit still. My Lord (who, if a man may fay’t, Loves mischief better than his meat) Was now dispos'd to crack a jelt,

15 And bid friend Lewis *

go in quest
(This Lewis is a cunning shaver,
And
very

much in Harley’s favour)
In quest who might this parson be,
What was his name, of what degree;
If possible, to learn his story,
And whether he were Whig or Tory.
Erasınus Lewis, efq; the treasurer's secretary.

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Lewis his patron's humour knows, Away upon his errand goes, And quickly did the matter fift ; Found out that it was Doctor Swift ; A clergyman of special note For shunning those of his own coat; Which made his brethren of the gown 30 Take care betimes to run him down : No libertine, nor over nice, Addicted to no sort of vice, Went where he pleas'd, said what he thought; Not rich, but ow'd no man a groat :

35 In state opinions à la mode, He hated Wharton like a toad, Had given the faction many a wound, And libel'd all the junto round: Kept company with men of wit,

40 Who often father'd what he writ: His works were hawk'd in every street, But seldom rose above a sheet: Of late indeed the paper-stamp Did very much his genius cramp;

45 And since he could not spend his fire, He now intended to retire.

Said Harley, “ I desire to know " From his own mouth if this be fo;

Step to the Doctor strait, and say, “ I'd have him dine with me to-day.” Swift seem'd to wonder what he meant, Nor would believe my Lord had fent; So never offer'd once to ftir ; But coldly said, “ Your servant, Sir !" 55

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" Does he refuse me?" Harley cried ;
" He does, with insolence and pride."

Some few days after, Harley spies
The Doctor fasten'd by the eyes
At Charing-cross among the rout, ,

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Where painted monsters are hung out :
He pulld the string, and stopt his coach,
Beckoning the Doctor to approach.

Swift, who could neither fly nor hide,
Came sneaking to the chariot-side,
And offer'd many a lame excuse ;
He never meant the least abuse

My Lord - the honour you design’d

Extremely proud — but I had din'd “ I'm sure I never should neglect “ No man alive has more respect « Well, I shall think of that no more, “ If you'll be sure to come at four.”

The Doctor now obeys the summons, Likes both his company and commons ; 75 Displays his talents, sits till ten; Next day invited comes again; Soon grows domestic, seldom fails Either at morning or at meals : Came early, and departed late ;

so In short, the gudgeon took the bait. My Lord would carry on the jest, And down to Windsor takes his guest. Swift much admires the place and air, And longs to be a canon there ; In summer round the park to ride, In winter, never to reside.

A canon!

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