To foreign prelates make a slavish court,
And by their sweat procure a mean support;
Or for the classics read the' Attorney's Guide,
Collect excise, or wait upon the tide.

Oh! had I been apostle to the Swiss
Or hardy Scot, or any land but this,
Combined in arms they had their foes defied,
And kept their liberty, or bravely died.
Thou still with tyrants in succession cursed,
The last invaders trampling on the first;
Nor fondly hope for some reverse of fate;
Virtue herself would now return too late.
Not half thy course of misery is run;
Thy greatest evils yet are scarce begun.
Soon shall thy sons, the time is just at hand,
Be all made captives in their native land;
When for the use of no Hibernian born
Shall rise one blade of grass, one ear of corn;
When shells and leather shall for money pass,
Nor thy oppressing lords afford thee brass 2;
But all turn leasers to that mongrel breed3
Who from thee sprung, yet on thy vitals feed;
Who to yon ravenous isle thy treasures bear,
And waste in luxury thy harvests there;
For pride and ignorance a proverb grown,
The jest of wits, and to the court unknown.
I scorn thy spurious and degenerate line,
And from this hour my patronage resign.

2 Wood's ruinous project against the people of Ireland was supported by Sir Robert in Walpole in 1724.

The absentees, who spend the income of their Irish estates, places, and pensions, in England.

A

PASTORAL DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

RICHMOND-LODGE AND MARBLE-HILL. WRITTEN JUNE, 1727,

JUST AFTER THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF GEORGE I.

Richmond-Lodge is a house with a small park belonging to the crown it was usually granted by the crown for a lease of years. The Duke of Ormond was the last who had it: after his exile, it was given to the Prince of Wales by the King. The Prince and Princess usually passed their summer there. It is within a mile of Richmond.

Marble-Hill is a house built by Mrs. Howard, then of the bed-chamber, now Countess of Suffolk, and Groom of the Stole to the Queen. It is on the Middlesex side, near Twickenham, where Mr. Pope lives, and about two miles from Richmond-Lodge. Mr. Pope was the contriver of the gardens, Lord Herbert the architect, and the Dean of St. Patrick's, chief butler, and keeper of the icehouse. Upon King George's death these two houses met, and had the following dialogue.

In spite of Pope, in spite of Gay,
And all that he or they can say,
Sing on I must, and sing I will,
Of Richmond-Lodge and Marble-Hill.
Last Friday night, as neighbours use,

This couple met to talk of news,

For by old proverbs it appears

That walls have tongues, and hedges ears.

MAR.-H. Quoth Marble-Hill, Right well I ween

Your mistress now is grown a queen;

You'll find it soon by woful proof;

She'll come no more beneath your roof.

RỊCH.-L. The kingly prophet well evinces
That we should put no trust in princes:
My royal master promised me
To raise me to a high degree;

But now he's grown a king, God wot,
I fear I shall be soon forgot.

You see when folks have got their ends,
How quickly they neglect their friends;
Yet I may say, 'twixt me and you,
Pray God, they now may find as true.

MAR.-H. My house was built but for a show, My lady's empty pockets know;

And now she will not have a shilling
To raise the stairs, or build the ceiling,
For all the courtly madams round
Now pay four shillings in the pound.
"Tis come to what I always thought;
My dame is hardly worth a groat.
Had you and I been courtiers born,
We should not thus have lain forlorn ;
For those we dexterous courtiers call,
Can rise their master's fall;

upon

But we, unlucky and unwise,

Must fall because our masters rise.

RICH.-L. My master, scarce a fortnight since, Was grown as wealthy as a prince,

But now it will be no such thing,
For he'll be poor as any king,

And by his crown will nothing get,

But, like a king, to run in debt.

MAR.-H. No more the Dean, that grave divine,

Shall keep the key of my no-wine,

My icehouse rob, as heretofore,

And steal my artichokes no more;

Poor Patty Blount no more be seen
Bedaggled in my walks so green;
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope,
And here no more will dangle Pope.

RICH.-L. Here wont the Dean, when he's to seek To spunge a breakfast once a week; To cry the bread was stale, and mutter Complaints against the royal butter: But now I fear it will be said No butter sticks upon his bread. We soon shall find him full of spleen For want of tattling to the queen, Stunning her royal ears with talking, His reverence and her highness walking; Whilst Lady Charlotte, like a stroller, Sits mounted on the garden-roller; A goodly sight to see her ride, With ancient Mirmont at her side; In velvet cap his head lies warm, His hat for show below his arm.

MAR.-H. Some South Sea broker from the city Will purchase me; the more's the pity;

Lay all my fine plantations waste

To fit them to his vulgar taste;

Changed for the worse in every part,

My master Pope will break his heart.

RICH.-L. In my own Thames may I be drowned,
If e'er I stoop beneath a crown'd head,
Except her majesty prevails

To place me with the Prince of Wales
And then I shall be free from fears,
For he'll be prince these fifty years.
I then will turn a courtier too,
And serve the times, as others do.

es;

Plain loyalty, not built on hope,

I leave to your contriver, Pope :
None loves his king and country better,
Yet none was ever less their debtor.

MAR.-H. Then let him come and take a nap

In summer on my verdant lap;

Prefer our villas, where the Thames is,
To Kensington or hot St. James's;

Nor shall I dull in silence sit,

For 'tis to me he owes his wit;
My groves, my echoes, and my birds,
Have taught him his poetic words.
We gardens, and yon wildernesses,
Assist all poets in distresses.
Him twice a-week I here expect,
To rattle Moody for neglect;

An idle rogue who spends his quartridge
In tippling at the Dog and Partridge,
And I can hardly get him down

Three times a-week to brush my gown.

RICH.-L. I pity you, dear Marble-Hill! But hope to see you flourish still.

All happiness- -and so adieu!

MAR.-H. Kind Richmond-Lodge, the same to

you.

END OF VOL. XXXII.

C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick.