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I saw thee rais'd to high Renown,
Supporting half the British Crown;
And often have I seen thee grace
The chaste Diana's infant Face
And whenfoe'er you please to shine,
Less useful is her Light than thine ;
Thy num'rous Fingers know their Way,
And oft in Celia's Tresses play.
To place thee in another View,
I'd shew the World strange Things and true ;
What Lords and Dames of high Degree,
May justly claim their Birth from thee;
The Soul of Man with Spleen you vex;
Of Spleen you cure the Female Sex,
Thee, for a Gift, the Courtier sends
With Pleasure to his special Friends :
He gives ; and with a gen'rous Pride,
Contrives all Means the Gift to hide ;
Nor oft can the Receiver know
Whether he has the Gift or no.
On Airy Wings you take your Flight,
And fly unseen both Day and Night;
Conceal your Form with various Tricks;
And few know how and where you fix.
Yet some, who ne'er bestow'd thee, boast
That they to others give thee most :
Mean Time, the Wise a Question start,
If thou a real Being art ;
Or, but a Creature of the Brain,
That gives imaginary Pain :
But the sly Giver better knows thee;
Who feels true Joys, when he bestows thee.
HOUGH I, alas! a Pris'ner be,
My Trade is, Pris’ners to set free,
No Slave his Lord's Commands obeys,
With such infinuating Ways.
My Genius piercing, Sharp and bright,
Wherein the Men of Wit delight.
The Clergy keep me for their Ease,
And turn and wind me, as they please:
A new and wond'rous Art I show
Of raising Spirits from below;
In Scarlet fome, and some in White ;
They rise, walk round, yet never fright,
In at each Mouth the Spirits país,
Distinctly seen as through a Glass :
O’er Head and Body make a Rout,
And drive at last all Secrets out:
And still, the more I shew my Art,
The more they open every Heart,
A GREATER Chymist none, than I, Who from Materials hard and dry, Have taught Men to extract with Skill, More precious Juice than from a Still,
ALTHOUGH I'm often out of Case,
I'm not asham'd to show my Face.
Though at the Tables of the Great,
I near the Side-board take my Seat ;
Yet, the plain 'Squire, when Dinner's done,
Is never pleas’d, 'till I make one.
He kindly bids me near him stand ;
And often takes me by the Hand.
I TWICE a Day a hunting go ;
Nor ever fail to seize my Foe;
And, when I have him by the Pole,
I drag him upwards from his Hole.
Though some are of so stubborn Kind,
I'm forc'd to leave a Limb behind.
I HOURLY wait fome fatal End; For, I can break, but fcorn to bend.
The Gulph of all Human Possessions.
Written in the Year 1724.
OME hither and behold the Fruits,
Vain Man, of all thy vain Pursuits.
Take wise Advice, and look behind,
Bring all past Actions to thy Mind.
Here you may fee, as in a Glass,
How soon all human Pleasures pass,
How will it mortify thy Pride,
To turn the true impartial Side !
How will your Eyes contain their Tears,
When all the sad Reverse appears!
This Cave within its Womb confines
The last Result of all Designs :
Here lye deposited the Spoils
Of busy Mortals endless Toils:
Here, with an easy Search we find
The foul Corruptions of Mankind.
The wretched Purchase here behold
Of Traytors who their Country sold.
This Gulph insatiable imbibes
The Lawyer's Fees, the Statesman's Bribes.
Here, in their proper Shape and Mien,
Fraud, Perjury, and Guilt are seen.
Necessity, the Tyrant's Law,
All human Race must hither draw:
All prompted by the fame Desire,
The vigʻrous Youth, and aged Sire :
Behold, the Coward, and the Brave,
The haughty Prince, the humble Slave,
Physician, Lawyer, and Divine,
All make Oblations at this Shrine.
Some enter boldly, some by Stealth,
And leave bebind their fruitless Wealth.
For, while the bashful Sylvan Maid,
As half afham'd, and half afraid,
Approaching, finds it hard to part
With that, which dwelt so near her Heart;
The courtly Dame, unmov’d by Fear,
Profusely pours her Off rings here.
A TREASURE here of Learning lurks,
Huge Heaps of never-dying Works;
Labours of many an ancient Sage,
And Millions of the present Age.
In at this Gulph all Ofrings pass, And lye an undistinguish'd Mass.