Imatges de pÓgina

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.


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.' ”



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


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.


II. Sunder

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.”

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.”


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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 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.”


Addressed to the Earl of OXFORD, 1713.


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,

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, ,

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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