When, lo! upon the wall appear
His shepherd's weeds hung up with care;
Nor crook nor scrip was wanting there,
Nor pipe that tun'd his humble lays,
Sweet solace of his better days!
Then, bowing low, he touch'd his breast,
And thus the wond'ring king addrest:
"Great Prince! your Ali is your slave,
To you belong whate'er I have;
"Goods, house, are yours, nay yours this head,
"For speak the word and I am dead:
"These moveables, and these alone,
"I may with justice call my own.
"Your royal sire, Abbas the Great,
"Whom nations prostrate at his feet
"On earth ador'd, whose soul at rest,
"In Paradise a welcome guest,
"Enjoys its full in fragrant bow'rs,'
"Or wantons upon beds of flow'rs,
"While the pure stream, in living rills,
"From rocks of adamant distils,
"And black-ey'd nymphs attend his nod,
"Fair daughters of that bless'd abode;
"By his command I left the plain,
"An humble but contented swain;
"Nor sought I wealth, nor pow'r, nor place: "All these were owing to his grace;
Such is the Paradise the Turks expect.
'Twas his mere bounty made me great, "And fix'd me here in this high seat,
"The mark of envy: much he gave,
"But yet of nought depriv'd his slave:
"He touch'd not these. Alas! whose spite,
"Whose avarice would these excite?
"My old hereditary right!
"Grant me but these, great Prince! once more,
"Grant me the pleasure to be poor,
"This scrip, these homely weeds, I'll wear,
"The bleating flocks shall be my care!
"Th' employ that did my youth engage
"Shall be the comfort of my age.'
The king, amaz'd at such a scorn
Of riches in a shepherd born;
"How soars that soul," said he, "above "The courtier's hate or monarch's love!
"No pow'r such virtue can efface,
"No jealous malice shall disgrace.
"Wealth, grandeur, pomp, are a mere cheat,
"But this is to be truly great."
While tears ran trickling down his face,
He clasp'd him in a close embrace,
Then caus'd himself to be undrest,
And cloth'd him in his royal vest,
The greatest honour he could give,
Or Persian subjects can receive.
JACK CARELESS was a man of parts,
Well skill'd in the politer arts,
With judgment read, with humour writ,
Among his friends pass'd for a wit,
But lov'd his ease more than his meat,
And wonder'd knaves could toil and cheat,
T'expose themselves by being great.
At no levees the suppliant bow'd,
Nor courted for their votes the crowd;
Nor riches nor preferment sought,
Did what he pleas'd, spoke what he thought;
Content within due bounds to live,
And what he could not spend to give:
Would whiff his pipe o'er nappy ale,
And joke, and pun, and tell his tale;
Reform the state, lay down the law,
And talk of lords he never saw;
Fight Marlb'rough's battles o'er again,
And push the French on Blenheim's plain;
Discourse of Paris, Naples, Rome,
Tho' he had never stirr'd from home:
'Tis true he travell'd with great care
The tour of Europe---in his chair;
Was loth to part without his load,
Or move till morning peep'd abroad.
One day this honest idle rake,
Ncr quite asleep nor well awake,
Was lolling in his elbow chair,
And building castles in the air,
His nipperkin (the port was good)
Half empty at his elbow stood,
When a strange noise offends his ear,
The din increas'd as it came near,
And in his yard at last he view'd
Of farmers a great multitude,
Who that day, walking of their rounds.
Had disagreed about their bounds;
And sure the diff'rence must be wide,
Where each does for himself decide.
Volleys of oaths in vain they swear,
Which burst like guiltless bombs in air;
And, "Thou'rt a knave!" and "Thou'rt an oaf!”
Is banded round with truth enough.
At length they mutually agree
His Worshipshould be referee,
Which courteous Jack consents to be:
Tho' for himself he would not budge,
Yet for his friends an arrant drudge;
A conscience of this point he made,
With pleasure readily obey'd,
And shot like lightning to their aid.
The farmers, summon'd to his room,
Bowing with awkward rev'rence come.
In his great chair his Worship sat,
A grave and able magistrate:
Silence proclaim'd, each clack was laid,
And flippant tongues with pain obey'd.
In a short speech he first computes
The vast expence of law disputes,
And everlasting. Chanc'ry-suits.
With zeal and warmth he rally'd then
Pack'd juries, sheriffs, talesmen,
And recommended in the close
Good neighbourhood, peace, and repose.
Next weigh'd with care each man's pretence,
Perus'd records, heard evidence;
Observ'd, reply'd, hit ev'ry blot,
Unravell'd ev'ry Gordian knot;
With great activity and parts
Inform'd their judgments, won their hearts,
And without fees or time mispent
By strength of ale and argument,
Dispatch'd them home, friends and content.
Trusty, who at his elbow sate,
And with surprise heard the debate,
Astonish'd, could not but admire
His strange dexterity and fire,
His wise discernment and good sense,
His quickness, ease, and eloquence.
"Lord! Sir," said he, "I can't but chide;
"What useful talents do you hide!
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