Imatges de pÓgina
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So never offer'd once to ftir;

But coldly faid, Your Servant, Sir.
Does he refuse me? HARLEY cry'd;

He does, with Infolence and Pride.

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SOME few Days after, HARLEY spies
The Doctor fasten'd by the Eyes

At Charing Cross, among the Rout,
Where painted Monsters dangle out.
He pull❜d the String, and stopt his Coach,
Beck❜ning the Doctor to approach.

S-T, who could neither fly nor hide,
Came fneaking to the Chariot-Side,
And offer'd many a lame Excufe:
He never meant the least Abuse-
My Lord-The Honour you defign'd-
Extremely proud-but I bad din'd
I'm fure I never shou'd negleƐt-
No Man alive bas more Refpect

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Well, I fhall think of that no more,
"If you'll be fure to come at Four.

The Doctor now obeys the Summons;
Likes both his Company, and Commons;
Displays his Talent; fits till Ten;
Next Day invited, comes again :
Soon grows domeftick; feldom fails
Either at Morning, or at Meals:
Came carly, and departed late:
In fhort, the Gudgeon took the Bait,
My Lord would carry on the Jest,
And down to Windfor takes his Guest.

St much admires the Place and Air,
And longs to be a Canon there;
In Summer, round the Park to ride,
In Winter-never to refide.
A Canon! That's a Place too mean;
No, Doctor, you shall be a Dean ;
Two dozen Canons round your Stall,
And

you the Tyrant o'er them all:
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You

71.Sic ignoviffe putato

Me tibi, fi cœnas hodie mecum. Ut libet. Ergo

Poft nonam venies:

74. Ut ventum ad cœnam eft, dicenda, tacenda locutus Tandem dormitum demititur. Hic ubi fæpe

Occultum vifus decurrere pifcis ad hamum,

Mane cliens, & jam certus conviva;

81.

-Jubetur

Rura fuburbana indictis comes ire Latinis.
Impofitus mannis arvum cœlumque Sabinum
Non ceffat laudare.

27, Videt: ridetque Philippus.

You need but cross the Irish Seas,

To live in Plenty, Power, and Eafe.

Poor St departs; and, what is worse,
With borrow'd Money in his Purfe;
Travels, at least a Hundred Leagues,
And fuffers numberless Fatigues.

SUPPOSE him, now, a Dean compleat,
Demurely lolling in his Seat;

The Silver Verge, with decent Pride,
Stuck underneath his Cushion-Side.
Suppose him gone thro' all Vexations,
Patents, Inftalments, Abjurations,

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First-Fruits and Tenths, and Chapter-Treats,
Dues, Payments, Fees, Demands, and-Cheats,

(The wicked Layety's contriving,

To hinder Clergymen from thriving)
Now all the Doctor's Money's fpent,
His Tenants wrong him in his Rent;
The Farmers, fpightfully combin❜d,
Force him to take his Tythes in Kind;
And Parvifol discounts Arrears,
By Bills, for Taxes and Repairs.

POOR S-t, with all his Loffes vext,
Not knowing where to turn him next,

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107.Oves furto, morbo periere capella; Spem mentita feges, bos eft enectus arando; *The Dean's Agent, a Frenchman.

113.

Offenfus damnis, media de nocte caballum Arripit, iratufque Philippi tendit ad ædes.

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Above a Thousand Pounds in Debt,

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Takes Horse, and in a mighty Fret,
Rides Day and Night at such a Rate,
He foon arrives at HARLEY's Gate:
But was fo dirty, pale, and thin,
Old Read would hardly let him in.

SAID HARLEY, welcome Rev'rend Dean;
What makes your Worship look fo lean?
Why, fure you won't appear in Town,
In that old Wig, and rufty Gown?
I doubt your Heart is fet on Pelf
So much, that you neglect yourself.
What? I fuppofe now Stocks are high,
You've fome good Purchase in your Eye;
Or is your Money out at Ufe?

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Truce, good my Lord, I beg a Truce;

130

(The Doctor in a Passion cry'd,)

Your Raillery is misapply'd:

Experience I have dearly bought,

You know I am not worth a Groat,

But it's a Folly to conteft,

When you refolve to have your Jeft:

And fince you now have done your worst, ·

Pray leave me, where you found me first.

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HORACE,

*The Lord Treasurer's Porter.

121. Quem fimul afpexit fcabrum intonfúmque Philippus : Durus, ait, Voltei, nimis, attentufque videris

Effe mihi.

136. Quod te fer Genium dextramque Deofque Penates Obfecro, & obteftor; vitæ me redde priori.

HORACE,

Lib. 2. Sat. 6.

I

Part of it imitated.

Written in the Year 1713.

OFTEN wish'd that I had clear,

For Life, fix Hundred Pounds a Year;

A handsome Houfe to lodge a Friend,

A River at my Garden's End;

A Terras Walk, and half a Rood

Of Land, set out to plant a Wood.

WELL: Now I have all this and more:

I ask not to encrease my Store;
And should be perfectly content,
Could I but live on this Side Trent;

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Nor cross the Channel twice a Year,

To spend fix Months with Statefmen here:

I MUST by all means come to Town, 'Tis for the Service of the Crown.

"Lewis;

1. Hoc erat in yotis: modus agri non ita magnus, Hortus ubi, & tecto vicinus jugis aquæ fons,

Et paulum filvæ fuper his foret.

-Auctius atque

7-Di melius fecet.

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