His talents to employ for nobler ends;
To better judgments willing to submit,
He turns to politics his dangerous wit.

And now, the public interest to support,
By Harley Swift invited comes to court;
In favour grows with ministers of state;
Admitted private, when superiors wait :
And Harley, not ashamed his choice to own,
Takes him to Windsor in his coach alone.
At Windsor Swift no sooner can appear,
But St. John comes, and whispers in his ear :
The waiters stand in ranks: the yeomen cry,
Make room, as if a duke were passing by.

Now Finch' alarms the lords: he hears for cer

tain

This dangerous priest is got behind the curtain.
Finch, famed for tedious elocution, proves
That Swift oils many a spring which Harley moves.
Walpole and Aislaby, to clear the doubt,
Inform the Commons, that the secret's out:
"A certain doctor is observed of late

To haunt a certain minister of state:

From whence with half an eye we may discover The peace is made, and Perkin must come over." York is from Lambeth sent, to show the queen A dangerous treatise3 writ against the spleen;

1 Daniel Finch, Earl of Nottingham.-Scott.

2 John Aislaby, then M.P. for Ripon. They both spoke against him in the House of Commons.-Ibid.

3 Tale of a Tub.---1bid.

Which, by the style, the matter, and the drift,
'Tis thought could be the work of none but Swift.
Poor York! the harmless tool of others' hate;
He sues for pardon,' and repents too late.
Now angry Somerset her vengeance vows
On Swift's reproaches for her *******

spouse From her red locks her mouth with venom fills, And thence into the royal ear instils.

The queen incensed, his services forgot,
Leaves him a victim to the vengeful Scot.3
Now through the realm a proclamation spread,
To fix a price on his devoted head.4

While innocent, he scorns ignoble flight;
His watchful friends preserve him by a sleight.
By Harley's favour once again he shines;
Is now caress'd by candidate divines,
Who change opinions with the changing scene:
Lord! how were they mistaken in the dean!
Now Delawar5 again familiar grows;

I He sent a message to ask Swift's pardon.---Scott.

2 Insert "murder'd." The duchess's first husband, Thomas Thynne, Esq., was assassinated in Pall Mall by banditti, the emissaries of Count Coningsmarc. As the motive of this crime was the count's love to the lady, with whom Thynne had never cohabited, Swift seems to throw upon her the imputation of being privy to the crime. See the Windsor Prophecy.-Ibid.

3 The Duke of Argyle.-Ibid.

For writing "The Public Spirit of the Whigs."-Ibid. "Then lord-treasurer of the household, who cautiously avoided Swift, while the proclamation was impending.-Ibid.

And in Swift's ear thrusts half his powder'd nose.
The Scottish nation, whom he durst offend,
Again apply that Swift would be their friend.1

By faction tired, with grief he waits awhile, His great contending friends to reconcile; Performs what friendship, justice, truth require: What could he more, but decently retire?

THE FAGOT.2

WRITTEN WHEN THE MINISTRY WERE AT VARIANCE,

1713.

OBSERVE the dying father speak,
Try, lads, can you this bundle break?
Then bids the youngest of the six
Take up a well-bound heap of sticks.

They thought it was an old man's maggot;
And strove, by turns, to break the fagot:
In vain; the complicated wands

He was visited by the Scots lords more than ever.--Scott.

2 This fable is one of the vain remonstrances by which Swift strove to close the breach between Oxford and Bolingbroke, in the last period of their administration, which, to use Swift's own words, was nothing else but a scene of murmuring and discontent, quarrel and misunderstanding, animosity and hatred;" so that these two great men had scarcely a common friend left, except the author himself, who laboured with unavailing zeal to reconcile their dissensions.---Ibid.

Were much too strong for all their hands.
See, said the sire, how soon 'tis done :
Then took and broke them one by one.

So strong you'll be, in friendship tied;
So quickly broke, if you divide.

Keep close then, boys, and never quarrel :
Here ends the fable, and the moral.

This tale may be applied in few words,
To treasurers, comptrollers, stewards;
And others, who, in solemn sort,
Appear with slender wands at court;
Not firmly join'd to keep their ground,
But lashing one another round:

While wise men think they ought to fight
With quarterstaffs instead of white;
Or constable, with staff of peace,

Should come and make the clattering cease;
Which now disturbs the queen and court,

And gives the Whigs and rabble sport.
In history we never found

The consul's fasces were unbound:

Those Romans were too wise to think on't,
Except to lash some grand delinquent.

How would they blush to hear it said,
The pretor broke the consul's head!
Or consul in his purple gown,
Came up and knock'd the pretor down!
Come, courtiers: every man his stick!

Lord treasurer, for once be quick :
And that they may the closer cling,

Take your blue ribbon for a string.

Come, trimming Harcourt,1 bring your mace;
And squeeze it in, or quit your place:
Dispatch, or else that rascal Northey'
Will undertake to do it for thee:
And be assured, the court will find him
Prepared to leap o'er sticks, or bind them.
To make the bundle strong and safe,
Great Ormond, lend thy general's staff:
And, if the crosier could be cramm'd in,
A fig for Lechmere, King, and Hambden!
You'll then defy the strongest Whig
With both his hands to bend a twig ;
Though with united strength they all pull,
From Somers, down to Craggs and Walpole.

IMITATION

OF PART OF THE SIXTH SATIRE OF THE SECOND

BOOK OF HORACE.

1714.

I'VE often wish'd that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a-year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end,
A terrace walk, and half a rood
Of land, set out to plant a wood.

1 Lord Chancellor.---Scott.

2 Sir Edward Northey, attorney-general.---Ibid.