I saw thee rais'd to high Renown,
Supporting half the British Crown;
And often have I feen thee grace
The chafte 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 Treffes play.
To place thee in another View,
I'd fhew 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 fends
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 unfeen both Day and Night;
Conceal your Form with various Tricks ;
And few know how and where you fix.
Yet fome, who ne'er bestow'd thee, boast
That they to others give thee most:
Mean Time, the Wife a Question start,
If thou a real Being art;
Or, but a Creature of the Brain,
That gives imaginary Pain:
But the fly 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 fet free,
No Slave his Lord's Commands obeys,
With fuch 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 raifing Spirits from below;
In Scarlet fome, and fome in White;
They rife, walk round, yet never fright,
In at each Mouth the Spirits pass,
Diftinctly feen as through a Glafs:
O'er Head and Body make a Rout,
And drive at laft all Secrets out:
And ftill, the more I fhew my Art,
The more they open every Heart.
A GREATER Chymift 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 Cafe,
I'm not afham'd to fhow 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 ftand;
And often takes me by the Hand.
I TWICE A Day a hunting go;
Nor ever fail to feize my Foe;
And, when I have him by the Pole,
I drag him upwards from his Hole.
Though fome are of fo ftubborn 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 Poffeffions.
Written in the Year 1724.
NOME hither and behold the Fruits,
Vain Man, of all thy vain Pursuits.
Take wife Advice, and look behind,
Bring all past Actions to thy Mind.
Here you may fee, as in a Glass,
How foon 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 fad Reverse appears!
THIS Cave within its Womb confines
The last Result of all Designs:
Here lye depofited the Spoils
Of bufy Mortals endless Toils:
Here, with an eafy Search we find
The foul Corruptions of Mankind.
The wretched Purchase here behold
Of Traytors who their Country fold.
THIS Gulph infatiable imbibes
The Lawyer's Fees, the Statefman'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 Defire,
The vig'rous 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 behind 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,
Profufely pours her Offrings here.
A TREASURE here of Learning lurks,
Huge Heaps of never-dying Works;
Labours of many an ancient Sage,
And Millions of the prefent Age.
In at this Gulph all Offrings pafs, And lye an undistinguish'd Mass.
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