Nine mufes always waiting round him,
He left them virgins as he found 'em.
His finging was another fault;
For he could reach to B in alt:
And, by the fentiments of Pliny,
Such fingers are like Nicolini .
At last the point was fully clear'd;
In short, Apollo had no beard.
Written in the year 1731.
LL folks, who pretend to religion and grace, Allow there's a HELL, but difpute of the place: But if HELL may by logical rules be defin'd
Where-ever the damn'd do chiefly abound,
Moft certainly there is HELL to be found:
Damn'd poets, damn'd critics, damn'd blockheads, damn'd knaves,
Damn'd fenators brib'd, damn'd prostitute flaves ;
Damn'd lawyers and judges, damn'd lords and damn'd fquires;
Damn'd pies and informers, damn'd friends, and
Damn'd villains, corrupted in every flation;
Damn'd time-jerving priests all over the nation.
And into the bargain I'll readily give you
Damn'd ignorant prelates and counsellors privy..
Then let us no longer by parfons be flamm'd,
For we know by these marks the place of the damn'd:
And HELL to be fure is at Paris or Rome.
How happy for us, that it is not at home!
Written in the year 1731.
Y the juft vengeance of incensed skies
Poor Bishop Judas late repenting dies.
The Jews engag'd him with a paltry bribe,
Amounting hardly to a crown a tribe ;
Which though his conscience forc'd him to restore, 5
(And parfons tell us, no man can do more),
Yet, through defpair, of God and man accurft,
He loft his bishoprick, and hang'd or burft.
Those former ages differ'd much from this;
Judas betray'd his mafter with a kifs:
But fome have kifs'd the gospel fifty times,
Whofe perjury's the least of all their crimes :
Some who can perjure through a two-inch board,
Yet keep their bishopricks, and 'fcape the cord.
Like hemp, which, by a skillful fpinfter drawn
To flender threads, may fometimes pafs for lawn.
As antient Judas by tranfgreffion fell,
And burft afunder ere he went to hell;
So could we see a fet of new Iscariots
Come headlong tumbling from their mitred chariots ;
Each modern Judas perish like the first;
Drop from the tree with all his bowels burst;
Who could forbear, that view'd each guilty face,
To cry, Lo Judas gone to his own place:
His habitation let all men forfake,
And let his bishoprick another take?
On Mr PULTENEY being put out of the council.
Written in the year 1731.
SIR Robert * weary'd by Will Pulteney's teafings,
Who interrupted him in all his leafings,
Refolv'd that Will and he fhould meet no more:
Full in his face Bob fhuts the council door;
Nor lets him fit as juftice on the bench
To punish thieves, or lafh a fuburb-wench.
Yet ftill St Stephen's chapel open lies
For Will to enter
E'en quit the HOUSE, for thou too long has fat in't,
Produce at last thy dormant ducal patent;
There, near thy master's throne in fhelter plac'd,
Let Will unheard by thee his thunder waste.
Yet ftill I fear your work is done but half :
For while he keeps his pen, you are not safe.
HEAR an old fable, and a dull one too;
Yet bears a moral, when apply'd to you.
A hare had long escap'd pursuing hounds,
By often shifting into diftant grounds;
Till finding all his artifices vain,
To fave his life he leap'd into the main.
But there, alas! he could no fafety find,
A pack of dog fish had him in the wind.
He fcours away; and to avoid the foe
Defcends for fhelter to the fhades below..
There Cerberus lay watching in his den;
(He had not feen a hare the Lord knows when);
Out bounc'd the mastiff of the triple head;
Away the hare with double fwiftnefs fled.
Hunted from earth, and fea, and hell he flies
(Fear lent him wings) for safety to the skies.
How was the fearful animal distrest!
Behold a foe more fierce than all the rest:
Syrius, the fwifteft of the heav'nly pack,
Fail'd but an inch to seize him by the back.
He fled to earth, but first it cost him dear;
He left his fcut behind, and half an ear.
THUS was the hare purfu'd, though free from guilt:
Thus, Bob, fhalt thou be maul'd, fly where thou wilt:"
Then, honest Robin, of thy corpse beware;
Thou art not half fo nimble as a hare :
Too pond'rous is thy bulk to mount the sky ;
Nor can you go to hell, before
So keen thy hunters, and thy fcent so strong,
Thy turns and doublings cannot fave thee long
The author having been told by an intimate friend, that the Duke of Queensberry had employed Mr Gay to infpect the accounts and management of his Grace's receivers and ftewards, (which however proved afterwards to be a mistake), writ to Mr Gay the following poem,
OW could you, Gay, disgrace the muses train, To serve a tatteleis court twelve years in vain +! : Fain would I think our female friend ‡ fincere, Till Bob, the poet's foe, poffefs'd her ear.
This hunting ended in the promotion both of Will and Bob. Bob was no longer firft minifter, but Earl of Orford; and Will was no longer his opponent, but Earl of Bath. Hawkef
See the libel on Doctor Delany and Lord Carteret, in vol 6. p. 335.
Mrs Howard, fince Countess of Suffolk.
Did female virtue e'er fo high afcend,
To lofe an inch of favour for a friend?
SAY, had the court no better place to chuse
For thee, than make a dry-nurse of thy mufe?
How cheaply had thy liberty been fold,
To fquire a royal girl of two years old *
In leading strings her infant steps to guide,
Or with her go cart amble fide by fide!
BUT princely Douglass + and his glorious dame
Advanc'd thy fortune, and preferv'd thy fame.
Nor will your nobler gifts be misapply'd,
When o'er your patron's treasure you prefide:
'The world fhall own his choice was wife and just,
For fons of Phoebus never brake their truft.
NOT love of beauty lefs the heart inflames
Of guardian eunuchs to the Sultan's dames;
Their paffions not more impotent and cold,
Than those of poets to the luft of gold.
With Paan's pureft fire his fav'rites glow,
The dregs will ferve to ripen ore below;
His meanest work: for had he thought it fit,
That wealth fhould be the appennage of wit,
The god of light conld ne'er have been fo blind
To deal it to the worft of human-kind.
But let me now, for I can do it well,
Your conduct in this new employ foretel.
AND firft: To make my observation right,
I place a flate/man full before my fight,
A bloated minifer in all his geer;
With fhameless visage, and perfidious leer;
Two rows of teeth arm each devouring jaw;
And, oftrich-like, his all-digefting maw.
See Mr. Gay's letter to Dr Swift on this fubject, in vol. 4.
let 27 P. 70.
The Duke of Queensberry.
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