Some few days after, Harley spies
The doctor fasten'd by the eyes
At Charing cross among the rout,
Where painted monsters are hung out:
He pull❜d the string, and stopp'd his coach,
Beckoning the doctor to approach.
Swift, who could neither fly nor hide,
Came sneaking to the chariot side,
And offer'd many a lame excuse :
He never meant the least abuse-
"My lord-the honour you design'd—
Extremely proud-but I had din'd-
I'm sure I never should neglect-
No man alive has more respect-”
"Well, I shall think of that no more,
If you'll be sure to come at four."
The doctor now obeys the summons,
Likes both his company and commons;
Displays his talents, sits till ten;
Next day invited comes again;
Soon grows domestic, seldom fails
Either at morning or at meals:
Came early, and departed late;
In short, the gudgeon took the bait.
My lord would carry on the jest,
And down to Windsor takes his guest,
Swift much admires the place and air,
And longs to be a canon there;
In summer round the park to ride,
In winter-never to reside.
A canon! that's a place too mean:
No, doctor, you shall be a dean;
Two dozen canons round your stalk
And you the tyrant o'er them all
You need but cross the Irish seas,
To live in plenty, power, and ease.
Poor Swift departs; and what is worse,
With borrow'd money in his purse,
Travels at least a hundred leagues,
And suffers numberless fatigues.
Suppose him now a dean complete,
Demurely lolling in his seat;
The silver verge, with decent pride,
Stuck underneath his cushion side;
Suppose him gone through all vexations,
Patents, instalments, abjurations,
First fruits and tenths, and chapter-treats;
Dues, payments, fees, demands, and cheats—
The wicked laity's contriving
To hinder clergymen from thriving.
Now all the doctor's money spent,
His tenants wrong him in his rent
The farmers, spitefully combin'd,
Force him to take his tithes in kind:
And Parvisol* discounts arrears
By bills for taxes and repairs.
Poor Swift, with all his losses vex'd,
Not knowing where to turn him next,
Above a thousand pounds in debt,
Takes horse, and in a mighty fret
Rides day and night at such a rate,
He soon arrives at Harley's gate;
But was so dirty, pale, and thin,
Old Read would hardly let him in.
Said Harley, "Welcome, reverend Dean? What makes your worship look so lean?
* The Dean's agent, a Frenchman. H:
The lord treasurer's porter. H.
Why, sure you
won't appear in town
In that old wig and rusty gown?
I doubt your heart is set on pelf
So much, that you neglect yourself.
What! I suppose, now stocks are high,
You've some good purchase in your eye?
Or is your money out at use ?"-
"Truce, good my lord, I beg a truce,"
(The Doctor in a passion cried)
"Your raillery is misapplied;
Experience I have dearly bought;
You know I am not worth a groat :
But you resolv'd to have your jest,
And 'twas a folly to contest;
Then, since you now have done your worst,-
Pray leave me where you found me first."
OF PART OF THE SIXTH SATIRE OF THE SECOND
BOOK OF HORACE. 1714.
I'VE often wish'd that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end,
A terrace walk, and half a rood
Of land, set out to plant a wood.
Hoc erat in votis: modus agri non ita magnus,
Hortus ubi, et tecto vicinus jugis aquæ fons,
Et paulum silvæ super his foret. Auctius atque
Dii melius fecere.-
Well, now I have all this and more,
I ask not to increase my store;
["*But here a grievance seems to lie,
All this is mine but till I die;
I can't but think 'twould sound more clever,
To me and to my heirs for ever.
"If I ne'er got or lost a groat,
By any trick, or any fault;
And if I pray by reason's rules,
And not like forty other fools;
As thus, Vouchsafe, O gracious Maker!
To grant me this and t'other acre:
Sive Aquilo radit terras, seu bruma nivalem
Interiore diem gyro trahit, ire necesse est.
Quid vis, insane, et quas res agis ? improbus urget,
Iratis precibus, tu pulses omne quod obstat,
Ad Mecanatem memori si mente recurras.
Hoc juvat, et melli est, non mentiar.-
Aliena negotia centum
Per caput, et circa saliunt latus.
-Si vis, potes, addit est instat.
Septimus octavo propior jam fugerit annus,
Ex quo Mecænas me cœpit habere suorum
In numero; duntaxat ad hoc, quem tollere rheda
Vellet, iter faciens, et cui concredere nugas.
- Subjectior in dium et horam
Frigidus à rostris manat per compita rumor;
Quicunque obvius est, me consulit.-
Jurantem me scire nihil, miratur, ut unum
Scilicet egregii mortalem altique silenti.
Perditur hæc inter misero lux, non sine votis.
O rus, quando ego te aspiciam ? quandoque licebit
Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno, et inertibus horis,
Ducere solicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ ?
O quando faba Pythagoræ cognata, simulque
Uncta satis pingui ponentur oluscula lardo ?
* The twenty lines within hooks were added by Mr. Pope. N.
Or, if it be thy will and pleasure,
Direct my plow to find a treasure!?
But only what my station fits,
And to be kept in my right wits,
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.
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."
I hurry me in haste away,
Not thinking it is levee-day
* Swift was perpetually expressing his deep discontent at his Irish preferment, and forming schemes for exchanging it for a smaller in England; and courted Queen Caroline and Sir Robert Walpole to ef fect such a change. A negotiation had nearly taken place between the Dean and a Mr. Talbot, for the living of Burfield, in Berkshire. Mr. Talbot himself informed me of this negotiation. Burfield is in the neighbourhood of Bucklebury, Lord Bolingbroke's seat. Dr WARTON.
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