The poetical works of Alexander Pope, ed. with notes and intr. memoir by A.W. Ward

Scatter your Favours on a Fop,
Ingratitude's the certain crop;
And 'tis but just, I'll tell ye 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 diff'rence in his thought
Betwixt a Guinea and a Groat.

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.
South-sea Subscriptions take who please.
Leave me but Liberty and Ease.
'Twas what I said to Craggs and Child',
Who prais'd my Modesty, and smil'd.
Give me, I cry'd, (enough for me)
My Bread, and Independency!
So bought an Annual Rent or two,
And liv'd--just as you see I do;
Near fifty, and without a Wife,
I trust that sinking Fund, my Life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my Paternal Cell*,
A little House, with Trees a-row,
50 And, like its Master, very low.

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 Eye1,
Th' engaging Smile, the Gaiety,
That laugh'd down many a Summer Sun,
And kept you up so oft till one:
And all that voluntary Vein,
As when Belinda2 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.'

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

The first Part imitated in the Year 1714, by Dr SWIFT; the latter Part adde

And not like forty other Fools: As thus, "Vouchsafe, oh gracious Maker!

"To grant me this and t'other Acre:
"Or, if it be thy Will and Pleasure,
"Direct my Plough to find a Treasure:"
But only what my Station fits,
And to be kept in my right wits1.
Preserve, Almighty Providence,
Just what you gave me, Competence:
And let me in these shades compose
Something in Verse as true as Prose;
Remov'd from all th' Ambitious Scene,
Nor puff'd by Pride, nor sunk by Spleen.
In short, I'm perfectly content,
Let me but live on this side Trent;
Nor cross the Channel twice a year,
To spend six months with Statesmen
here 2.

I must by all means come to town, 'Tis for the service of the Crown. "Lewis, the Dean will be of use, "Send for him up, take no excuse." The toil, the danger of the Seas; Great Ministers ne'er think of these; Or let it cost five hundred pound, No matter where the money's found, It is but so much more in debt, And that they ne'er consider'd yet. "Good Mr Dean, go change your gown,

"Let my Lord know you're come to town."

Consider, 'tis my first request.

'Be satisfied, I'll do my best:' Then presently he falls to tease, "You may for certain, if you please; So "I doubt not, if his Lordship knew— And, Mr Dean, one word from you' 'Tis (let me see) three years and more, (October next it will be four) Since HARLEY bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble friend; Would take me in his Coach to chat, And question me of this and that; "What's o'clock?" And, the Wind?"

As,

66 How's

"Whose Chariot's that we left behind?" Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the Country Signs; Or, "Have you nothing new to-day "From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay?"

Such tattle often entertains

3 [The orders of the Garter and Shamrock. The Bath was not revived till 1725 (by Sir R. Walpole). At Lilliput, Gulliver observed the nobles leaping over a stick, in order to be decorated with blue, red and green threads.]

4 [Swift commenced his literary labours for the Tories in 1710.]

5 [Thomas Parnell (born in 1679), author of the Hermit, and a lyrical poet of real merit, went

My Lord and me as far as Staines,
As once a week we travel down
To Windsor, and again to Town,
Where all that passes, inter nos,
Might be proclaim'd at Charing-Cross.
Yet some I know with envy swell,
Because they see me us'd so well:
"How think you of our Friend
Dean?

the

106

"I wonder what some people mean; My Lord and he are grown so great, Always together, tête à tête; "What, they admire him for his jokes"See but the fortune of some Folks!" There flies about a strange report Of some Express arriv'd at Court; I'm stopp'd by all the Fools I meet, And catechis'd in ev'ry street. "You, Mr Dean, frequent the Great; "Inform us, will the Emp'ror treat? "Or do the Prints and Papers lie?" 115 'Faith, Sir, you know as much as I.' "Ah Doctor, how you love to jest? ""Tis now no secret"-"I protest "'Tis one to me '--"Then tell us, pray, "When are the Troops to have their pay?"

And, tho' I solemnly declare

120

I know no more than my Lord Mayor, They stand amaz'd, and think me grown The closest mortal ever known.

over, like Swift, from the Whigs to the Tories, and was one of the members of the Scriblerus Club. He died in 1717; and Pope published his poems in 1722, with a dedication to the Earl of Oxford (v. infra, p. 441). Parnell wrote the Life of Homer for Pope's Iliad, and translated the Batrachomyomachia. His biography was afterwards written by Goldsmith.]

[Charles Fox, on a summer's day at St Ann's, declared it the right time for lying in the shade with a book. • Why with a book?" asked Sheridan.] 2 ['(For one whole day) we have had nothing

A Neighbour's Madness, or his Spouse's,
Or what's in either of the Houses:
But something much more our concern,
And quite a scandal not to learn:
Which is the happier, or the wiser,
A man of Merit, or a Miser?
Whether we ought to choose our Friends,
For their own Worth, or our own Ends?
What good, or better, we may call, 151
And what, the very best of all?

Our Friend Dan Prior3, told, (you know)

160

A Tale extremely à propos :
Name a Town Life, and in a trice, 155
He had a Story of two Mice.
Once on a time (so runs the Fable)
A Country Mouse, right hospitable,
Receiv'd a Town Mouse at his Board,
Just as a Farmer might a Lord.
A frugal Mouse upon the whole,
Yet lov'd his Friend, and had a Soul,
Knew what was handsome, and would
do 't,
On just occasion, coute qui coute.
He brought him Bacon (nothing lean),
Pudding, that might have pleas'd a Dean;
Cheese, such as men in Suffolk make,
But wish'd it Stilton for his sake;
Yet, to his Guest tho' no way sparing,
He ate himself the rind and paring. 170
Our Courtier scarce could touch a bit,

164

for dinner but mutton-broth, beans and bacon, and a barn-door fowl.' Pope to Swift (from Dawley), June 28, 1728.]

3 [The City Mouse and Country Mouse was written by Prior and Charles Montagu after wards Earl of Halifax) in 1688, in ridicule of Dryden's Hind and Panther. The reason why Pope was so sparing in his praise of Prior, is found by Warton in the satirical epigrams writ ten by Prior on Atterbury. Dan' is the old familiar abbreviation for dominus; Douglas speaks of 'Dan Chaucer; and Prior himself, in his Alma, facetiously mentions 'Dan Pope."]

But show'd his Breeding and his Wit;
He did his best to seem to eat,
And cry'd, “I vow you're mighty neat.
'But Lord, my Friend, this savage
Scene!
175
'For God's sake, come, and live with
Men:

'Consider, Mice, like Men, must die,
'Both small and great, both you and I:
Then spend your life in Joy and Sport,
"(This doctrine, Friend, I learnt at
Court)."
180

The veriest Hermit in the Nation
May yield, God knows, to strong tempta-

tion.

185

Away they come, thro' thick and thin,
To a tall house near Lincoln's-Inn;
'Twas on the night of a Debate,
When all their Lordships had sat late.)
Behold the place, where if a Poet
Shin'd in Description, he might show it;
Tell how the Moon-beam trembling falls,
And tips with Silver all the walls; 190
Palladian walls, Venetian doors,
Grotesco roofs, and Stucco floors:
But let it (in a word) be said,
The Moon was up, and Men a bed,
The Napkins white, the Carpet red :

The Guests withdrawn had left the Treat,
And down the Mice sate, tête à tête. 197
Our Courtier walks from dish to dish,
Tastes for his Friend of Fowl and Fish;
Tells all their names, lays down the law,
"Que ça est bon! Ah goutez ça !
"That Jelly's rich, this Malmsey healing,
"Pray, dip your Whiskers and your Tail
in."
204

201

210

Was ever such a happy Swain?
He stuffs and swills, and stuffs again.
"I'm quite asham'd-'tis mighty rude
"To eat so much—but all 's so good.
"I have a thousand thanks to give-
"My Lord alone knows how to live."
No sooner said, but from the Hall
Rush Chaplain, Butler, Dogs and all:
"A Rat, a Rat! clap to the door"-
The Cat comes bouncing on the floor.
O for the heart of Homer's Mice,
Or Gods to save them in a trice!
(It was by Providence they think,
For your damn'd Stucco has no chink.)
"An't please your Honour, quoth the
Peasant,

215

BOOK IV. ODE L

TO VENUS1.

GAIN? new Tumults in my breast?

Ah spare me, Venus! let me, let me rest!

I am not now, alas! the man

As in the gentle Reign of My Queen Anne.

Ah sound no more thy soft alarms,

Nor circle sober fifty with thy Charms.

Mother too fierce of dear Desires!

Turn, turn to willing hearts your wanton fires.

To Number five direct your Doves,

There spread round MURRAY all your blooming Loves; ΙΟ Noble and young, who strikes the heart

With ev'ry sprightly, ev'ry decent part;

Equal, the injur'd to defend,

To charm the Mistress, or to fix the Friend.

1 It may be worth observing, that the measure Pope has here chosen is precisely the same that Ben Jonson used in a translation of this very Ode. Warten.

* The number of Murray's lodgings in King's Bench Walks. Bowles. [See Imitations of Horace, B. 1. Ep. VI. 49, note.]

He, with a hundred Arts refin'd,

Shall stretch thy conquests over half the kind:
To him each Rival shall submit,

Make but his Riches equal to his Wit1.
Then shall thy Form the Marble grace,

(Thy Grecian Form) and Chloe lend the Face:

His House, embosom'd in the Grove,

Sacred to social life and social love 2,

Shall glitter o'er the pendant green,

Where Thames reflects the visionary scene:

Thither, the silver-sounding lyres

Shall call the smiling Loves, and young Desires;
There, ev'ry Grace and Muse shall throng,
Exalt the dance, or animate the song;

There Youths and Nymphs, in concert gay,
Shall hail the rising, close the parting day.

With me, alas! those joys are o'er;

For me, the vernal garlands bloom no more.
Adieu, fond hope of mutual fire,

The still-believing, still-renew'd desire;

Adieu, the heart-expanding bowl,

And all the kind Deceivers of the soul!

But why? ah tell me, ah too dear3!

Steals down my cheek th' involuntary Tear?

Why words so flowing, thoughts so free,

Stop, or turn nonsense, at one glance of thee?

Thee, drest in Fancy's airy beam,

Absent I follow thro' th' extended Dream;

Now, now I seize, I clasp thy charms,

And now you burst (ah cruel!) from my arms;

And swiftly shoot along the Mall,

Or softly glide by the Canal,

Now, shown by Cynthia's silver ray,

And now, on rolling waters snatch'd away.

PART OF THE NINTH ODE OF THE FOURTH BOOK 4.

« Previous Continue »

Books

The poetical works of Alexander Pope, ed. with notes and intr. memoir by A.W ...