"A frosty morn past four o'clock,"
The chairman are not to be found,
"Come, let us play the other round."
Now all in haste they huddle on
their hoods, their cloaks, and get them gone;
but, first, the winner must invite
the company to morrow-night.
Unlucky madam, left in tears
(who now again quadrille forswears),
with empty purse, and aching head,
steals to her sleeping spouse to bed.
THE PLACE OF THE DAMNED.
All folks who pretend to religion and grace,
allow there's a hell, but dispute of the place:
but, if hell may by logical rules be defin'd
the place of the damn'd-I'll tell you my mind. ]
Wherever the damn'd do chiefly abound,
most certainly there is hell to be found.
Damn'd poets, damn'd critics, damn'd blockheads, damn'd knaves,
damn'd senators brib'd, camn'd prostitute slaves ; damn'd lawyers and judges, damn'd lords and damn'd squires; [damn'd liars; damn'd spies and informers, damn'd friends and damn'd villians, corrupted in every station; damn'd time-serving priests all over the nation; and into the bargain I'll readily give you damn'd ignorant prelates and counsellors privy. Then let us no longer by parsons be flamm'd, for we know by these marks the place of the damn'd: and hell to be sure is at Paris or Rome.
How happy for us that it is not at home!
THE PARSON'S CASE.
That you, friend Marcus, like a Stoic,
can wish to die in strains heroic,
no real fortitude implies:
yet, all must own, thy wish is wise.
Thy curate's place, thy fruitful wife,
thy busy, drudging scene of life,
thy insolent, illiterate vicar,
thy want of all-consoling liquor,
thy thread-bare gown, thy cassock rent,
thy credit sunk, thy money spent,
thy week made up of fasting days,
thy grate unconscious of a blaze,
and, to complete thy other curses,
the quarterly demands of nurses,
are ills you wisely wish to leave,
and fly for refuge to the grave:
and, oh, what virtues you express,
in wishing such affliction less!
But now, should fortune shift the scene, and make thy curateship a dean; or some rich benefice provide
to pamper luxury and pride;
with labour small, and income great;
with chariot less for use than state;
with swelling scarf and glossy gown,
and licence to reside in town;
to shine, where all the gay resort,
at concerts, coffee-house, or court,
and weekly persecute his grace
with visits, or to beg a place;
with underlings they flock to teach,
with no desire to pray or preach;
with haughty spouse in vesture fine,
with plenteous meals and generous wine;
wouldst thou not wish, in so much ease,
thy years as numerous as thy days?
THE DEAN'S MANNER OF LIVING.
On rainy days alone I dine,
upon a chick and pint of wine.
On rainy days I dine alone,
and pick my chicken to the bone:
but this my servants much enrages,
no scraps remain to save board-wages.
In weather fine I nothing spend,
but often spunge upon a friend:
yet, where he's not so rich as I,
pay my club, and so good b'ye.
DR. SWIFT'S ANSWER TO A FRIEND'S QUESTION.
The Furniture that best doth please
St. Patrick's dean, good sir, are these:
the knife and fork with which I eat;
and, next, the pot that boils the meat;
the next to be preferr'd, I think,
is the glass in which I drink;
the shelves on which my books I keep;
and the bed on which I sleep;
and antique elbow-chair between,
big enough to hold the Dean;
and the store that gives delight
in the cold bleak wintery night;
to these we add a thing below,
more for use reserv'd than show:
these are what the Dean do please;
all superfluous are but these.
ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT,
OCCASIONED BY READING THE FOLLOWING MAXIM IN
ROCHEFOUCAULT.
"Dans l'adversité de nos meilleurs amis, nous trouvons troujours quelque chose qui ne nous déplait pas."
"In the adversity of our hest friends, we always find something that doth not displease us.'
As Rochefoucault his maxims drew
from nature, I believe them true:
they argue no corrupted mind
in him; the fault is in mankind.
This maxim more than all the rest
is thought too base for human breast:
"In all distresses of our friends,
we first consult our private ends;
while nature, kindly bent to ease us,
points out some circumstance to please us."
If this perhaps your patience move,
let reason and experience prove.
We all behold with envious eyes
our equals rais'd above our size.
Who would not at a crowded show
stand high himself, keep others low?
I love my friend as well as you:
but why should he obstruct my view?
then let me have the higher post;
suppose it but an inch at most.
If in a battle you should find
one, whom you love of all mankind,
had some heroic action done,
a champion kill'd or trophy won;
rather than thus be over-topt,
would you not wish his laurels cropt?
dear honest Ned is in the gout,
lies rack'd with pain, and you without: how patiently you hear him groan! how glad the case is not your own! What poet would not grieve to see his brother write as well as he! but, rather than they should excel, would wish his rivals all in hell?
Her end when emulation misses, she turns to envy, stings, and hisses: the strongest friendship yields to pride, unless the odds be on our side. Vain human-kind! fantastic race! thy various follies who can trace? self-love, ambition, envy, pride, their empire in our hearts divide. Give others riches, power, and station, 't is all to me an usurpation.
I have no title to aspire;
yet, when you sink, I seem the higher. In Pope I cannot read a line but with a sigh I wish it mine: when he can in one couplet fix more sense than I can do in six; it gives me such a jealous fit,
cry, "Pox take him and his wit!" I grieve to be outdone by Gay in my own humorous biting way. Arbuthnot is no more my friend, who dares to irony pretend, which I was born to introduce, refin'd at first, and show'd it's use. St. John, as well at Pulteney, knows that I had some repute for prose; and, till they drove me out of date, could maul a minister of state.
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