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EPISTLE VII. .

IMITATED IN THE MANNER OF DR. SWIFT.

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' Tıs true, my Lord, I gave my word,
I would be with you, June the third ;
Chang'd it to August, and (in short)
Have kept itas you do at Court.
You humour me when I am sick,
Why not when I am splenetic ?
In town, what objects could I meet ?
The shops shut up in ev'ry street,
And Fun'rals black’ning all the Doors,
And yet more melancholy Whores :
And what a dust in ev'ry place!
And a thin Court that wants your Face,
And Fevers raging up and down,
And W* and H** both in town!

“The Dog-days are no more the case.
'Tis true, but Winter comes apace:
Then southward let your Bard retire,
Hold out some months 'twixt Sun and Fire,
And
you

shall see, the first warm Weather, Me and the Butterflies together.

My Lord, your Favours well I know; 'Tis with distinction you bestow;

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NOTES.

Ver. 21. My Lord,] Shaftesbury laughs at modern authors for being compelled to use such terms, as His Grace, His Excel

Jam satis est. At tu quantumvis tolle. Benigne.
Non invisa feres pueris munuscula parvis.
Tam teneor dono, quam si dimittar onustus.
Ut libet: hæc porcis hodie comedenda relinques.
Prodigus et stultus donat quæ spernit et odit :
Hæc seges ingratos tulit, et feret omnibus annis.
Vir bonus et sapiens, dignis ait esse paratus ;
Nec tamen ignorat, quid distent æra lupinis.
Dignum præstabo me etiam

pro

laude merentis. Quod si me noles usquam discedere ; reddes Forte latus, nigros angusta fronte capillos :

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ye

And not to ev'ry one that comes,
Just as a Scotsman does his Plums.

Pray take them, Sir,-Enough's a Feast :
Eat some, and pocket up the rest”-
What rob your Boys ? those pretty rogues

?
“No, Sir, you'll leave them to the Hogs.”
Thus Fools with Compliments besiege ye,
Contriving never to oblige ye.
Scatter

your

Favours on a Fop,
Ingratitude's the certain crop ;
And 'tis but just, I'll tell wherefore,
You give the things you never care for.
A wise man always is or should
Be mighty ready to do good :
But makes a difference in his thought
Betwixt a Guinea and a Groat.

Now this I'll say, you'll find in me
A safe Companion, and a free;
But if you'd have me always near-
A word, pray, in your Honour's ear.
I hope it is

your

Resolution
To give me back my Constitution ! !
The sprightly Wit, the lively Eye,
Th’ engaging Smile, the Gaiety,

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.

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NOTES.

>

lency, His Honour, and My Lord. Horace, in this passage, says to the greatest man in Rome only Tu, and at the beginning only Mæcenas, without any epithet whatsoever. So also speaks Virgil at the beginning of the Georgics, “ Terram vertere, Mæcenas."

Ver. 40. and a free ;] Johnson always carped at our adding the word one after an adjective, and thought it useless and inelegant-a free one. This is unexceptionable-- a free.

Reddes dulce loqui : reddes ridere decorum, et Inter vina fugam Cynaræ mærere protervæ. Forte

per angustam tenuis vulpecula rimam Repserat in cumeram frumenti; pastaque, rursus Ire foras pleno tendebat corpore frustra. Cui mustela procul, Si vis, ait, effugere istinc,

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That laugh'd down many a Summer Sun,
And kept you up so oft till one :
And all that voluntary Vein,
As when Belinda" rais'd my Strain. .

A Weasel once made shift to slink
In at a Corn-loft thro' a Chink;
But having amply stuff'd his skin,
Could not get out as he got in:
Which one belonging to the House
('Twas not a Man, it was a Mouse)
Observing, cry'd, “You 'scape not so,
“Lean as you came, Sir, you must go.

Sir, you may spare your Application,
I'm no such Beast, nor his Relation;
Nor one that Temperance advance,
Cramm'd to the Throat with Ortolans :
Extremely ready to resign
All that may make me none of mine.

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NOTES.

a

Ver. 50. As when Belinda] A compliment he pays himself and the Public on his Rape of the Lock. W.

Ver. 51. A Weasel once] Horace shines particularly in these short fables which he was so fond of introducing; as he does indeed in that difficult art of telling a story well, of which the story of Philippus, Strenuus et fortis, &c. is a masterpiece. We are in no one respect so very inferior to the French as in our fables; we have no La Fontaine. The fables of Gay, esteemed our best, are written in a pure and neat style, but have not much nature or humour. Horace's Mice are inimitable. The long introductions to the fables of Gay's second volume of fables read like political pamphlets.

Ver. 56. 'Twas not a Man,] This parenthesis comes in but awkwardly and lamely. “You 'scape not so," also is awkward, v. 57; so is “ None of mine," v. 64.

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