Uoth the thief to the dog, Let me into Quot your door, And I'll give you these delicate bits. Quoth the dog, I fhould 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 came here to steal, And I must be hang'd in your ftead. The ftockjobber thus from Change-alley goes down, Let me have but your vote to serve for the town, 10 Said the freeman Your guinea to-night would be spent: Your offers of bribery cease; I'll vote for my landlord to whom I Or elfe 1 may forfeit my leafe. pay rent, 15 From London they come filly people to chufe, Who d vote a rogue into the parliament-house, 20 ADVICE to the GRUBSTREET VERSE-WRITERS. Ε Written in the year 1726. YE poets ragged and forlorn, Down from your garrets hafte ; Ye rhymers, dead as foon as born, Not yet confign'd to paste. thrive; I know a trick to make you Could give him more delight. When Pope has fill'd the margins round, Why then recal your loan; Sell them to Curll for fifty pound, And fwear they are your own. On feeing VERSES written upon WINDOWS in INNS. Written in the year 1726. I. HE fage who faid he fhould be proud THE Of windows in his breast, Because he ne'er one thought allow'd ↑ A blank cover. His window fcrawl'd by ev'ry rake, And fairly bid the devil take The diamond and the lover. ANOTHER. II. BY Satan taught, all conj'rers know Your mistress in a glass to show, And you can do as much : In this the devil and you agree; None e'er made verfes worse than he, 5 ANOTHER. HI. Hat love is the devil, I'll prove when requir'd; Thofe rhymers abundantly fhow it: They fwear that they all by love are infpir'd, And the devil's a damnable poet. ANO THE R. IV. HE church and the clergy here, no doubt, THE Are very near a-kin; Both weather-beaten are without, And empty both within. 5 A PASTORAL DIALOGUE between RICHMOND-LODGE and MARBLE-HILL.* Written June 1727, juft after the news of the late King's death, to which time this note must also be referred. RICHMOND-LODGE is a house with a small park belonging to the crown. It was ufually granted by the crown for a leafe 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 ufually paffed their fummer 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 Middlefex fide near Twickenham, where Mr Pope lives, and about two miles from Richmond-Lodge. Mr Pope was the contriver of the gardens, Lord Her bert the architect, and the Dean of St Patrick's chief butler, and keeper of the icehoufe. Upon King George's death, these two houses met, and had the following dialogue. that * This piece contains fome of the best and finest portraits of Dr Swift, in three or four different attitudes, that ever were drawn In it we are alfo told, in his own ludicrous way, he generally fpunged a breakfast once a-week rom the Princess of Wales, [the late Queen Caroline]; and, I believe, we may take his own word for it, that he frequently used To cry the bread was ftale, and mutter Swift. James Butler, Duke of Ormond, fucceeded John Duke of Marleborough as Captain General in Q. Anne's reign. He fied from England, foon after the Queen's death in 1714; and retired to Avignon in France, where he died without iffue in 1745. His corpfe was brought to England, and interred in Westminsterabbey, May 22. 1746. +TN fpite of Pope, in fpite of Gay, Sing on I muft, and fing I will LAST Friday night, as neighbours ufe, This couple met to talk of news : For by old proverbs it appears, That walls have tongues, and hedges ears. 5 Marble-H. Quoth Marble-Hill, Right well I ween, Your mistress now is grown a queen : ΤΟ You'll find it foon by woful' proof; She'll come no more beneath your roof. J Richmond-L. The kingly prophet well evinces, That we should put no truft in princes: My royal master promis'd me To raise me to a high degree; But now he's grown a king God wot, I fear I fall be foon forgot. You fee, when folks have got their ends, Yet I may fay, 'twixt me and you, 15 20 Pray God they now may find as true. Marble-H. My house was built but for a show, My lady's empty pockets know; And now she will not have a fhilling 25 To raise the stairs, or build the ceiling; For all the courtly madams round For those we dextrous courtiers call, 30. Can rife upon their mafter's fall. This poem was carried to court, and read to the King and Queen. |