Hb fimilies in order fet,
And every crambo he could get,
Had gone through all the common-places
Worn out by wits, who rhyme on faces:
Before he could his poem clofe,
The lovely nymph had lost her nofe,
Your virtues fafely I commend ;
They on no accidents depend:
Let me look with all her eyes,
She darts not fay the poet lies.
Stella, when you thefe lines tranferibe,
Lat you fhould take them for a bribe,
Refair'd to mortify your pride,
T'here expofe your weaker ûde.
Your fpirits kindle to a flame, Mov'd with the lightest touch of blame; And, when a friend in kindness tries To show you where your error lies, Conviction does but more incense; Perverfenefs is your whole defence; Truth, judgment, wit, give place to fpight, Regardicfs both of wrong and right; Year virtues all fufpended wait Till time hath open'd reason's gate; And, what is worfe, your paffion bends In force against your nearest friends, Which manners, decency, and pride, Have taught you from the world to hide : hain; for, fee, your friend hath brought To public light your only fault; And yet a fault we often find Ma'd in a noble generous mind; And may compare to Ætna's fire,
Which, though with trembling, all admire ;
The heat, that makes the fummit glow,
Enriching all the vales below.
The who in warmer climes complain
From Pbabus' rays they fuffer pain,
town that pain is largely paid
generous wines beneath a fhade.
Yet, when I find your paflions rife,
And anger fparkling in your eyes,
Igneve thofe fpirits should be spent,
For nobler ends by nature meant.
One paffion with a different turn
Makes wit inflame, or anger burn:
*be the fun's heat with different powers
Ripens the grape, the liquor fours:
Thus Ajax, when with rage poffeft
By Pallas breath'd into his breast,
Ha valour would no more employ,
Which might alone have conquer'd Troy;
Bat, blinded by refentment, feeks
I vengeance on his friends the Greeks,
You think this turbulence of flood
From agnating preferves the blood,
Which thus fermenting by degrees
Ents the spirits, finks the lees.
Stella, for once you reason wrong;
For, fhould this ferment last too long,
By time fubfiding, you may find
Nothing but acid left behind;
Frum paffion you may then be freed,
When peevithnefs and fpleen fucceed.
Say, Stella, when you copy next,
l you keep ftrictly to the text?
Рат let thefe reproaches ftand,
And to your failing fet your hand s
Or, if thefe lines your anger fire,
Shall they in bafer flames expire?
Whene'er they burn, if burn they must,
They'll prove my accufation juít.
TO STELLA,
Vifiting me in my Sickness, 1720.
PALLAS, obferving Stella's wit
Was more than for her fex was fit,
And that her beauty, foon or late,
Might breed confufion in the state,
In high concern for human kind,
Fix'd bonour in her infant mind.
But (not in wranglings to engage
With fuch a ftupid vicious age)
If honour I would here define,
It anfwers faith in things divine.
As natural life the body warms,
And, fcholars teach, the foul informs;
So honour animates the whole,
And is the spirit of the foul.
Thofe numerous virtues which the tribe
Of tedious moralifts defcribe,
And by fuch various titles call,
True honour comprehends them all.
Let melancholy rule fupreme,
Choler prefide, or blood, or phlegm,
It makes no difference in the cafe,
Nor is complexion honour's place.
But, left we fhould for honour take
The drunken quarrels of a rake;
Or think it feated in a fear,
Or on a proud triumphal car,
Or in the payment of a debt
We lofe with fharpers at picquet;
Or when a whore in her vocation
Keeps punctual to her affignation;
Or that on which his Lordship swears,
When vulgar knaves would lose their ear
Let Stella's fair example preach
A leffon the alone can teach.
In points of honour to be try'd,
All paffions must be laid afide:
Afk no advice, but think alone;
Suppofe the queftion not your own.
How fhall I act? is not the cafe ;
But how would Brutus in my place?
In fuch a cafe would Cato bleed?
And how would Socrates proceed?
Drive all objections from your mind,
Elfe
you relapfe to human kind :
Ambition, avarice, and luft,
And factious rage, and breach of trust,
And flattery tipt with nauseous fleer,
And guilty fhame, and fervile fear,
Envy, and cruelty, and pride,
Will in your tainted heart prefide.
Heroes and heroines of old
By honour only were inroll'd
Among their brethren in the skies,
To which (though late) fhall Stella rife
Ten thousand caths upon record
Are not fo facred as her word:
The world fhall in its atoms end,
Ere Stella can deceive a friend.
By honour feated in her breast
She ftill determines what is beft:
What indignation in her mind
Against enflavers of mankind!
Bafe kings, and minifters of state,
Eternal objects of her hate!
She thinks that nature ne'er defign'd
Courage to man alone confin'd.
Can cowardice her fex adorn,
Which most exposes ours to fcorn?
She wonders where the charm appears
In Florimel's affected fears;
For Stella never learn'd the art
At proper times to feream and start;
Nor calls up all the house at night,
And fwears the faw a thing in white.
Doll never flies to cut her lace,
Or throw cold water in her face,
Because fhe heard a fudden drum,
Or found an earwig in a plum.
Her hearers are amaz'd from whence
Proceeds that fund of wit and fenfe;
Which, though her modefty would shroud,
Breaks like the fun behind a cloud;
While gracefulness its art conceals,
And yet through every motion steals.
Say, Stella, was Prometheus blind,
And, forming you, miftook your kind?
No; 'twas for you alone he ftole
The fire that forms a manly foul;
Then, to complete it every way,
He moulded it with female clay:
To that you owe the nobler flame,
To this the beauty of your frame.
How would ingratitude delight,
And how would cenfure glut her fpight,
If I fhould Stella's kindness hide
In filence, or forget with pride!
When on my fickly couch I lay,
Impatient both of night and day,
Lamenting in unmanly strains,
Call'd every power to eafe my pains;
Then Stella ran to my relief
With cheerful face and inward grief:
And, though by Heaven's fevere decree
She fuffers hourly more than me,
No cruel mafter could require,
From flaves employed for daily hire,
What Stella, by her friendship warm'd,
With vigour and delight perform'd:
My linking fpirits now fupplies
With cordials in her hands and eyes;
Now with a foft and filent tread
Unheard fhe moves about my bed.
I fee her tafte each naufeous draught;
And fo obligingly am caught,
I blefs the hand from whence they came, Nor dare distort my face for fhame.
Best pattern of true friends! beware: You pay too dearly for your care, If, while your tenderness secures My life, it must endanger your's; For fuch a fool was never found, Who pull'd a palace to the ground, Only to have the ruins made Materials for a houfe decay'd.
ON THE DEATH OF DEMAR, THE USURE
Who died the 6th of July 1720.
KNOW all men by thefe prefents, Death the tan
By mortgage, hath fecur'd the corpfe of Dema
Nor can four bundred thousand fierling pound
Redeem him from his prifon under ground.
His heirs might well, of all his wealth poffe
Bestow to bury him one iron cheft.
Plutus the god of wealth will joy to know
His faithful fteward in the fhades below,
He walk'd the streets, and wore a threadbare o
He din'd and fupp'd at charge of other folk
And by his looks, had he held out his palms,
He might be thought an object fit for alms.
So, to the poor, if he refus'd his pelf,
He us'd them full as kindly as himself.
Where'er he went, he never faw his betters Lords, knights, and fquires, were all his hu And under band and feal the Irish nation [deb Were forc'd to own to him their obligation.
He that could once have half a kingdom bo In half a minute is not worth a groat. His coffers from the coffin could not fave, Nor all his intereft keep him from the grave. A golden monument would not be right, Because we wish the earth upon him light.
Oh London tavern! thou haft loft a fric Though in thy walls he ne'er did farthing ip He touch'd the pence, when others touch'd the p The hand that fign'd the mortgage paid the f Old as he was, no vulgar known 'difcafe On him could ever boaft a power to feize; + But, as he weigh'd his gold, grim Deat fpight
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"Caft in his dart, which made three moidoresl
"And, as he faw his darling money fail,
"Blew his laft breath, to fink the lighter fca
He who fo long was current, 'twould be ftran
If he should now be cry'd down fince his chang
The fexton fhall green fods on thee beftow
Alas, the fexton is thy banker now!
A difmal banker muft that banker be,
Who gives no bills but of mortality.
EPITAPH ON A MISER.
BENEATH this verdant billock lies
Demar, the wealthy and the wife.
His beirs, that he might fafely reft,
Have put his carcafe in a cheft;
The very cheft in which, they say,
His other felf, his money, lay.
And, if his heirs continue kind
To that dear felf he left behind,
I dare believe, that four in five
Will think his better balf alive.
TO MRS. HOUGHTON OF BORMOU Upon praifing ber Husband to Dr. Swift. You always are making a god of your fpouf But this neither reafon nor confcience allows
* A tavern in Dublin, where Demar kept bit ↑ These four lines were written by Stella.
Pehaps you will fay, 'tis in gratitude due,
And you adore him, because he adores you.
Your argument's weak, and fo you will find;
For you, by this rule, muft adore all mankind.
VERSES WRITTEN ON A WINDOW,
At the Deanry Houfe, St. Patrick's.
Ar the guests of this houfe ftill doom'd to be
[be treated.
Sure the fates have decreed they by halves fhould
In the days of good John *, if you came here to
dine,
[wine.
You had choice of good meat, but no choice of good
in Jonathan's reign, if you come here to eat,
You have choice of good wine, but no choice of
good meat.
0 Jove then how fully might all fides be bleft,
Woaldit thou but agree to this humble request ;
Put both deans in one; or, if that's too much
trouble,
Inftead of the deans, make the deanry double.
ON ANOTHER WINDOW †.
A BARD on whom Phoebus his spirit bestow'd,
Riolving tacknowledge the bounty he ow'd,
Found out a new method at once of confeffing,
And making the most of so mighty a bleffing:
To the god he'd be grateful; but mortals he'd
choufe,
By making his patron prefide in his houfe;
And widely forefaw this advantage from thence,
That the god would in honour bear most of th'
expence :
So the bard he finds drink, and leaves Phœbus to
[treat
With the thoughts he infpires, regardless of meat.
Hence they that come hither expecting to dine,
Are always fobb'd off with fheer wit and fheer wine.
APOLLO TO THE DEAN, 1720.
This every pretender to rhyme will admit,
Without troubling his head about judgment or wit.
Thefe gentlemen ufe me with kindness and free-
['em:
And as for their works, when I please I may read
They lie open on purpose on counters and stalls;
And the titles I view, when I fhine on the walls.
But a comrade of yours, that traitor Delany,
Whom I for your fake love better than any,
And, of my mere motion and special good grace,
Intended in time to fucceed in your place,
On Tuesday the tenth feditioufly came
With a certain falfe traitress, one Stella by name,
To the deanry houfe, and on the north glafs,
Where, for fear of the cold, I never can pafs,
Then and there, vi et armis, with a certain utenfil,
Of value five fhillings, in English a pencil,
Did malicioutly, falfely, and traiteroufly write,
Whilft Stella aforefaid ftood by with a light.
My fifter had lately depos'd upon oath,
That the ftopt in her courfe to look at them both:
That Stella was helping, abetting, and aiding:
And still as he writ, ftood fmiling and reading:
That her eyes were as bright as myfelf at noon-
day,
[with gray;
But her graceful black locks were all mingled
And by the defcription I certainly know,
RIGHT trufty, and fo forth-we let you to know,
We are very ill us'd by you mortals below.
For firt, I have often by chemists been told,
Though I know nothing on 't, it is I that make
gold,
[it,
Which when you have got, you fo carefully hide
That, fince I was born, I hardly have spy'd it.
Then it must be allow'd, that, whenever I shine,
forward the grafs, and I ripen the vine;
To me the good fellows apply for relief, [beef:
Without whom they could neither get claret nor
Yet their wine and their victuals thefe curmud-
geon lubbards
Lock up from my fight in cellars and cupboards.
That I have an ill eye, they wickedly think,
And taint all their meat, and four all their drink.
But, thirdly and laftly, it must be allow'd.
I alone can inspire the poetical crowd:
This is gratefully own'd by each boy in the college,
Who if I infpire, it is not to my knowledge.
Dean Sterne was diflinguifked for his bospitality.
By Dr. Delany, in conjun&ion with Stella.
"Tis the nymph that I courted fome ten years ago;
Whom when I with the beft of my talents endued
On her promife of yielding, the acted the prude:
That fome verfes were writ with felonious intent,
Direct to the north, where I never yet went :
That the letters appeared revers'd through the
fagain;
But in Stella's bright eyes they were plac'd right
Wherein the diftinctly could read every line,
And prafently guefs that the fancy was mine.
She can fwear to the perfon whom oft she has seen
At night between Cavan Street and College Green.
Now you fee why his verses so seldom are shown;
The reafon is plain, they are none of his own:
And obferve while you live, that no man is fhy
To difcover the goods he came honeftly by.
If I light on a thought, he will certainly steal it,
Of all the fine things he keeps in the dark,
And, when he has got it, find ways to conceal it :
There's fearce one in ten but what has my mark;
And let them be feen by the world if he dare,
I'll make it appear that they're all stolen ware.
But as for the poem he writ on your fash,
I think I have now got him under my lash;
My fifter tranfcrib'd it last night to his forrow,
And the public fhall fee't, if I live till to-morrow.
Through the zodiac around, it fhall quickly be
fpread
In all parts of the globe where your language is read.
He knows very well, I ne'er gave a refufal,
When he afk'd for my aid in the forms that are
But the fecret is this, I did lately intend [ufual:
To write a few verses on you, as my friend.
I ftudied a fortnight, before I could find,
As I rode in my chariot, a thought to my mind,
And refolv'd the next winter (for that is my time,
When the days are at fhorteft) to get it in rhyme;
Till then it was lock'd in my box at Parnaffus;
When that fubtle compaion, in hopes to furpafs us,
Conveys out my paper of hints by a trick, Nick)
(For I think in my confcience he deals with Old
And, from my own stock provided with topics,
He gets to a window beyond both the tropics;
There out of my fight, juft against the north zone,
Writes down my conceits, and then calls them his
And you, like a booby, the bubble can swallow:
Now who but Delany can write like Apollo?
High treafon by ftatute! yet here you object,
He only ftole hints, but the verse is correct;
Though the thought be Apollo's, 'tis finely ex-
prefs'd;
So a thief fteals my horfe, and has him well drefs'd.
Now, whereas the fad criminal feems past repent-
"That, to make you a laureat, I gave the fi
voice,
"Infpiring the Britons t' appprove of my choi
Jove fent her to me, her power to try;
"The goddess of beauty what god can deny ?
"She forbids your preferment; I grant her defi
"Appease the fair goddefs; you then may r
"higher."
[ceedin
The next that appear'd had good hopes of fu For he merited much for his wit and his breedin 'Twas wife in the Britons no favour to show hi He elfe might expect they should pay what the owe him.
And therefore they prudently chose to discard
The patriot, whofe merits they would not rewar
The god, with a fmile, bade his favourite advanc
"You were fent by Aftrea her envoy to France
"You bent your ambition to rise in the state;
"I refuse you, because you could ftoop to
"great."
We Phoebus think fit to proceed to his fentence.
Since Delany has dar'd, like Prometheus his fire;
To climb to our region, and thence to steal fire;
We order a vulture, in fhape of the spleen,
To prey on his liver, but not to be feen.
And we order our subjects of every degree
To believe all his verfes were written by me;
And, under the pain of our highest displeasure,
To call nothing his but the rhyme and the measure.
And lastly, for Stella, juft out of her prime,
I'm too much revenged already by time.
In return to her fcorn, I fend her difeafes,
But will now be her friend whenever the pleafes:
And the gifts I bestow'd her will find her a lover,"
Though the lives to be gray as a badger all over.
PARNASSUS, February the twenty-seventh,
The poets affembled here on the eleventh,
Conven'd by Apollo, who gave them to know,
He'd have a vicegerent in his empire below;
Then a bard who had been a fuccefsful tran "The convention allows me a versificator." Says Apollo, "You mention the least of your meri "By your works it appears you have much "my fpirit.
"I efteem you fo well, that to tell you the trut
"The greateft objection against you's your youth
Then be not concern'd you are now laid afide
"If you live, you shall certainly one day prefide
Another, low bending, Apollo thus greets,
" 'Twas I taught your subjects to walk throug
"the streets."
[before
"You taught them to walk! why, they knew
"But give me the bard that can teach them
"Whenever he claims, 'tis his right, I'll confefs "Who lately attempted my ftyle with fuccefs; "Who writes like Apollo has moft of his fpirit,
But declar'd that no bard should this honour inherit," And therefore 'tis just I distinguish his merit; Till the reft had agreed he surpass'd them in merit." Who makes it appear, by all he has writ,
"His judgment alone can set bounds to his wit
"Like Virgil, correct with his own native eafe
"But excels even Virgil in elegant praise;
"Who admires the ancients, and knows 'tis the
Yet writes in a manner entirely new ; [dy
"Though none with more ease their depths c
"explore,
Now this, you'll allow, was a difficult case,
For each bard believ'd he'd a right to the place;
So, finding th' affembly grow warm in debate,
He put them in mind of his Phaeton's fate :
'Twas urg'd to no purpofe; difputes higher rofe,"
Scarce Phœbus himself could their quarrels com-
pofe;
Till at length he determin'd that every bard
Should (each in his turn) be patiently heard.
Yet whatever he wants he takes from my fton "Though I'm fond of his virtues, his pride I ca First, one who believ'd he excell'd in tranflation," In fcorning to borrow from any but me; [fe Founds his claim on the doctrine of man's tranf-" migration:
Since the foul of great Milton was given to me, "I hope the convention will quickly agree." "Agree!" quoth Appollo, " from whence is this "fool? [school? "Is he just come from reading Pythagoras at "Be gone, Sir! you've got your fubfcriptions in
« And given in return neither reason nor rhyme." To the next, fays the god, "Though now I won't
"I'll tell you the reafon for which I refuse you: "Love's goddef's has oft to her parents complain'd Of my favouring a bard who her empire difdain'd; That, at my inftigation, a poem you writ, Which to beauty and youth preferr'd judgment and wit;
It is owing to this, that, like Cynthia, his layı "Enlighten the world by reflecting my rays.' This faid, the whole audience foon found
The convention was summon'd in favour of Swi
THE RUN UPON THE BANKERS, 1720
THE bold encroachers on the deep
Gain by degrees huge tracts of land,
Till Neptune, with one general sweep,
Turns all again to barren strand.
The multitude's capricious pranks
Are faid to reprefent the feas;
Which, breaking bankers and the banks,
Refume their own whene'er they please.
Money, the life-blood of the nation,
Corrupts and ftagnates in the veins,
Unless a proper circulation
Its motion and its heat maintains.
Becaufe 'tis lordly not to pay,
Quakers and aldermen in ftate
Like part have levees every day
Of dits attending at their gate.
We want our money on the nail;
The banker's ruin'd if he pays:
They feem to act an ancient tale;
The ads are met to ftrip the jays.
Riches, the wifeft monarch fings,
Make pinions for themselves to fly:"
They dy like bats on parchment wings,
And geefe their filver plumes fupply.
No money left for fquandering heirs!
Bitern the lenders into debtors:
The with of Nero now is theirs,
"That they had never known their letters."
Conceive the works of midnight hags,
Tormenting fools behind their backs:
Thus bankers o'er their bills and bags
Sets Squeezing images of wax.
Conceive the whole enchantment broke;
The witches left in open air,
hpower no more than other folk,
Expos'd with all their magic ware.
powerful are a banker's bills,
Where creditors demand their due;
They break up counters, doors, and tills,
And leave the empty chefts in view.
Thus when an earthquake lets in light
Upon the god of gold and bell,
ce to endure the fight,
He hides within his darkest cell.
when a conjuror takes a lease
From Satan for a term of years
e tenant's in a difmal cafe,
Whene'er the bloody bond oppears.
ted banker thus defponds,
From his own hand forefees his fall;
They have his foud, who have his bonds;
Ts like the writing on the wall.
How will the catiff wretch be scar'd,
Whee first he finds himself awake
At the laft trumpet unprepar'd,
And all his grand account to make!
Ter in that univerfal call
Few bankers will to heaven be mounters;
They cry, "Ye fhops, upon us fall!
Conceal and cover us, ye counters!"
When her hands the feales fhall hold,
And they in men and angels' fight Produc' with all their bills and gold, Wagh'd in the balance, and found light!"
DESCRIPTION OF AN IRISH FEAST, Tranflated almofi literally out of the original Irish,
Ore's noble fare will ne'er be forgot,
His revels to keep, we fup and we dine
On seven score theep, fat bullocks, and swine.
Uufquebaugh to our feaft in pails was brought up,
An hundred at least, and a madder * our cup.
O there is the fport! we rife with the light
In diforderly fort from fnoring all night.
O how was I trick'd! my pipe it was broke,
My pocket was pick'd, I loft my new cloak.
I'm rifled, quoth Nell, of mantle and kercher :
Why then fare them well, the de'el take the
searcher.
Come, harper, ftrike up; but, first, by your favour,
Boy, give us a cup: ah! this has fome favour.
Orourk's jolly boys ne'er dreamt of the matter,
Till, rons'd by the noife and musical clatter,
They bounce from their neft, no longer will tarry,
They rife ready dreft, without one ave-mary. [ings
They dance in a ronnd, cutting capers, and ramp-
A mercy the ground did not burit with their
ftamping.
The floor is all wet with leaps and with jumps, While the water and sweat splish-fplash in theis pumps.
Blefs you late and early, Laughlin O' Enagin!
By my band, you dance rarely, Margery Grinagin.
Bring ftraw for our bed, shake it down to the feet,
Then over us fpread the winnowing sheet:
To fhow I don't flinch, fill the bowl up again;
Then give us a pinch of your fneezing, a yean §.
Good Lord! what a fight, after all their good
cheer,
For people to fight in the midft of their beer!
They rife from their feast, and hot are their brains,
A cubit at least the length of their fkeans.
What stabs and what cuts, what clattering of flicks
What ftrokes on the guts, what baftings and kickst
With cudgels of oak well harden'd in flame,
An hundred heads broke, an hundred ftruck lame.
You churl, I'll maintain my father built Lufk,
The Castle of Slain, and Carrick Drumrusk:
The Earl of Kildare, and Moynalta his brother,
As great as they are, I was nurft by their mother.
Afk that of old madam; fhe'll tell you who's who
As far up as Adam, fhe knows it is true.
Come down with that beam, if cudgels are scarce,
A biow on the weam, or a kick on the a-fe.
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thof who were there, or thofe who were not.fecuted.
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