Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

That ev'ry hour your life renew
Is to your injur'd country due.

In spite of fears, of mercy spite,

My genius still must rail, and write.
Haste to thy Twick'nham's safe retreat,
And mingle with the grumbling great;

30

There, half devour'd by spleen, you'll find 35
The rhyming bubbler of mankind

There (objects of our mutual hate)
We'll ridicule both church and state.

A Fragment, attributed by some to MR. POPE, and by others to MR. CONGREVE. It has, however, been seen in the hand-writing of the former.

WHAT are the falling rills, the pendant shades,
The morning bow'rs, the evening colonnades,
But soft recesses for th' uneasy mind

To sigh unheard in, to the passing wind!
So the struck deer, in some sequester'd part,
Lies down to die (the arrow in his heart)
There hid in shades, and wasting day by day,
Inly he bleeds, and pants his soul away.

Verses left by MR. POPE, on his lying in the same Bed which WILMOT, the celebrated EARL of ROCHESTER, slept in, at Adderbury, then belonging to the DUKE of ARGYLE, July 9th, 1739.

WITH no poetic ardour fir'd

I

press the bed where Wilmot lay;

That here he lov'd, or here expir'd,
Begets no numbers grave, or gay.

But in thy roof, Argyle, are bred

Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Stretch'd out in honour's nobler bed,
Beneath a nobler roof-the sky.

Such flames as high in patriots burn,
Yet stoop to bless a child or wife;
And such as wicked kings may mourn,
When freedom is more dear than life.

THE CHALLENGE.

A COURT BALLAD.

To the Tune of "To all you Ladies now at Land," &c.

I.

To one fair lady out of court,

And two fair ladies in,

Who think the Turk* and Pope† a sport,

And wit and love no sin

;

Come, these soft lines, with nothing stiff in, To Bellenden, Lepell, and Griffin.

With a fa, la, la.

II.

What passes in the dark third row,
And what behind the scene,
Couches and crippled chairs I know,
And garrets hung with green;
I know the swing of sinful hack,
Where many damsels cry alack.
With a fa, la, la.

III.

Then why to courts should I repair,
Where's such ado with Townshend?
To hear each mortal stamp and swear,
And ev'ry speech with Zounds end;

NOTES.

Ulrick, the little Turk.

The Author.

To hear 'em rail at honest Sunderland,

And rashly blame the realm of Blunderland.*

With a fa, la, la.

IV.

Alas! like Schutz I cannot pun,

Like Grafton court the Germans;
Tell Pickenbourg how slim she's grown,
Like Meadows run to sermons;

To court ambitious men may roam,
But I and Marlbro' stay at home.
With a fa, la, la.

V.

In truth, by what I can discern,
Of courtiers 'twixt you three,
Some wit you have, and more may learn
From court, than Gay or Me:

Perhaps, in time, you'll leave high diet,
To sup with us on milk and quiet.
With a fa, la, la.

VI.

At Leicester-Fields, a house full high,
With door all painted green,
Where ribands wave upon the tie,

(A Milliner I mean;)

There may you meet us three to three,

For Gay can well make two of Me.

With a fa, la, la.

Ireland.

« НазадПродовжити »