Imatges de pÓgina


Lewis; the Dean will be of Use,
“ Send for him up, take no Excuse,
The Toil, the Danger of the Seas ;
Great Ministers ne'er think of these ;
Or let it cost five hundred Pound,
No Matter where the Money's found;
It is but so much more in Debt,
And that they ne'er consider'd yet.

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66 Let my

" Good Mr. Dean, go change your Gown;

Lord know, you're come to Town:
I hurry me in hafte away,

Not thinking it is Levee-Day ;
And find his Honour in a Pound,
Hemm’d by a triple Circle round.
Chequer'd with Ribbons blue and green ;
How should I thrust my felf between?
Some Wag observes me thus perplex'd,
and smiling whispers to the next,
“ I thought the Dean had been too proud,
“ To jostle here among a Crowd.
Another, in a furly Fit,

35 Tells me, I have more Zeal than Wit.



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17. Sive aquilo radit terras, seu bruma nivalem Interiore diem gyro trahit, ire necesse est.

35. Quid vis, insane, & quas res agis ? improbus urget, Iratis precibus, tu pulses omne quod obftat, Ad Mecænatem memori si mente recurras. Hoc juvat, & melli eft, non mentiar.

So eager to express your Love,
• You ne'er consider, whom you shove

“ But rudely press before a Duke.
I own, I'm pleas'd with this Rebuke ;
And take it kindly meant to how,
What I desire the World should know.



I Get a Whisper, and withdraw; When twenty Fools, I never saw, Come with Petitions fairly penn'd, Desiring I would stand their friend.


This, humbly offers me his Case :
That begs ny Int'rest for a Place.
A hundred other Men's Affairs,
Like Bees are humming in my Ears :

50 • To morrow my Appeal comes on, « Without your Help the Cause is gone The Duke expects my Lord and you, About some great Affair, at Two 6. Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind

55 “ To get my Warrant quickly sign’d. “ Consider, 'tis my first Request,Be satisfy'd, I'll do


beit: Then presently he falls to teaze : * You may for certain, if

you please;

60 66 I doubt

-Aliena negotia centum Per caput & circa faliunt latus.

60.--Si vis, potes, addit & inftai.

“ I doubt not, if your Lordfhip knew
« And, Mr. Dean, one Word from you


'Tis (let me fee) three Years and more, (October next, it will be four) Since HARLEY bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble Friend : Would take me in his Coach to chat, And question me of this and that; As“ What's a Clock ?" And, “How's the Wind? 66 Who's Chariot's that we left behind ?

70 Or gravely try to read the Lines Writ underneath the Country Signs : Or, “ Have you nothing new To-day, “ From Pope, from Parnel, or from Gay? Such Tattle often entertains

75 My Lord and me as far as Stains : As once a Week we travel down To Windsor, and again to Town; Where all that paffes, inter nos, Might be proclaim'd at Cbaring-Cross.


Yet, fome I know with Envy swell, Because they see me us'd so well:

66 How

63. Septimus octayo proprior jam fugerit annus, Ex

quo Mecænas me cæpit habere fuorum In numero ; duntaxat ad hoc, quem tollere rhedâ

Vellet iter faciens, & crui concedere nugas. 81.- Subjector in diem & horam,


“ How think you of our Friend the Dean? " I wonder, what some people mean;

My Lord and He are grown fo great, “ Always together, teté, a feté: "! What? They admire him for his Jokes " See but the Fortune of some Folks!

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THERE flies about a strange Report Of some Express, arriv'd at Court; I'm stopt by all the Fools I meet, And catechiz'd in ev'ry Street, “ You, Mr. Dean, frequent the Great : “ Inform us, will the Emp'ror treat? “ Or, do the Prints and Papers lye ? Faith, Sir, you know as much as I. « Ah Doctor, how you love to jest? “ 'Tis now no Secret-I protest 'Tis one to me. Then, tell us, pray " When are the Troops to have their Pay? And, tho' I folemnly declare, I know no more than my Lord Mayor, They stand amaz'd, and think me grown The closest Mortal ever known.



Thus in Sea of Folly toft,
My choicest Hours of Life are lost;


89. Frigidus à Roftris manat per compita rumor; Quicunque obvius eft, me consulit.

101. Jurantem me fcire nihil, mirantur, ut unum Scilicet egregii, mortalem, altique filenti.

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Yet alway wishing to retreat:
Oh, could I see my Country Seat!
There leaning near a gentle Brook,
Sleep, or peruse some antient Book ;
And there, in sweet Oblivion, drown
Those Cares, that haunt a Court and Town.


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108. O Rus, quando ego te afpiciam, quandoque licebit, Nunc veterum libris, nunc fomno, & inertibus horis, Ducere sollicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ ?

An EL EGY on

on the supposed Death of PARTRIGE the Almanackmaker.

Written in the Year 1708.


ELL; 'tis as Bickerstaff has guest,

Tho we all took it for a Jest:
Partrige is dead; nay more, he dy'd,
'Ere he could prove the good 'Squire ly’d.
Strange, an Astrologer should die,
Without one Wonder in the Sky!
Not one of all his Crony Stars
To pay their Duty at his Herse?


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