Bright Goddeffes, in Number five;
Duke William, fweetest Prince alive.

Now fing the Minister of State,
Who fhines alone, without a Mate.
Obferve with what Majestick Port
This Atlas ftands to prop the Court:
Intent the publick Debts to pay,
Like prudent* Fabius, by Delay.
Thou great Vicegerent of the King,
Thy Praises every Mufe fhall fing:
In all Affairs thou fole Director,

Of Wit and Learning chief Protector;
Tho' fmall the Time thou haft to spare,
The Church is thy peculiar Care.
Of pious Prelates what a Stock

You chufe to rule the fable Flock!
You raise the Honour of the Peerage,
Proud to attend you at the Steerage.
You dignify the Noble Race,
Content your felf with humbler Place.

Now Learning, Valour, Virtue, Senfe.
To Titles give the fole Pretence:

Unus bomo nobis Cunetando reftituit rem

St.

St. George beheld thee with Delight,
Vouchsafe to be an azure Knight,

When on thy Breaft and Sides Herculean,
He fixt the Star and String Cerulean.

SAY, Poet, in what other Nation,
Shone ever fuch a Constellation.

Attend ye Popes and Youngs, and Gays,
And tune your Harps, and ftrow your Bays,
Your Panegyricks here provide,

You cannot err on Flatt'ry's Side.
Above the Stars exalt your Stile,

You ftill are low ten thousand Mile.
On Lewis all his Bards beftow'd,
Of Incense many a thousand Load;
But Europe, mortify'd his Pride,
And fwore the fawning Rafcals ly'd:
Yet what the World refus'd to Lewis,
Apply'd to *** exactly true is:
Exactly true! Invidious Poet!

'Tis fifty thousand Times below it,

TRANSLATE me now fome Lines, if you can,

From Virgil, Martial, Ovid, Lucan ;

They

They could all Pow'r in Heav'n divide,

And do no Wrong to either Side ;

They teach you how to split a Hair,

* Give

and Jove an equal Share.

Yet, why should we be lac'd fo ftrait;

I'll give my

Butter-weight,

And Reafon good; for, many a Year

Jove never intermeddl'd here:

Nor, tho' his Priests be duly paid,

Did ever we defire his Aid:

We now can better do without him,

Since Woolfton gave us Arms to rout him,

*

Cætera defiderantur

Divifum Imperium cum Jovi Cæsar habet,

THE

THE

DOG and THIEF

Written in the Year 1726.

UоTH the Thief to the Dog; let me into your Door,

Q

And I'll give you these delicate Bits:

Quoth the Dog, I should then be more Villain than you're,

And befides must be out of my Wits:

Your delicate Bits will not ferve me a Meal,

But my

Mafter each Day gives me Bread;

You'll fly when you get what you come here to

fteal,

And I must be hang'd in your Stead.

The Stock-jobber thus, from Change-Alley goes down,

And tips you the Freeman a Wink;

Let me have but your Vote to ferve for the Town, And here is a Guinea to drink.

Said

Said the Freeman, your Guinea To-night would be

fpent,

Your Offers of Bribery cease;

I'll vote for my Landlord to whom I pay Rent,
Or elfe I may forfeit my Leafe.

From London they come, filly People to choufe, Their Lands and their Faces unknown; Who'd vote a Rogue into the Parliament-house, That would turn a Man out of his own?

THE

Revolution at Market-Hill.

Written in the Year 1730.

ROM diftant Regions, Fortune sends

FRO

An odd Triumvirate of Friends; Where Phabus pays a fcanty Stipend, Where never yet a Codling ripen'd: