Since the tories have thus disappointed my hopes, And will neither regard my figures nor tropes; I'll speech against peace while Dismal's my name, And be a true whig, while I'm Not-in-game.*

THE WINDSOR PROPHECY.†

"About three months ago, at Windsor, a poor knight's widow was buried in the cloisters. In digging the grave, the sexton struck against a small leaden coffer, about half a foot in length, and four inches wide. The poor man, expecting he had discovered a treasure, opened it with some difficulty; but found only a small parchment,

"There was printed a Grubstreet speech of lord Nottingham; and he was such an owl to complain of it in the house of lords, who have taken up the printer for it. I heard at court, that Walpole (a great whig member) said, that I and my whimsical club writ it at one of our meetings, and that I should pay for it. He will find he lies; and I shall let him know by a third hand my thoughts of him." Journal to Stella, Dec. 18, 1711. N.

"I have written a Prophecy, which I design to print. I did it to-day, and some other verses." Journal to Stella, Dec. 23, 1711." My Prophecy is printed, and will be published after Christmas-day. I like it mightily'; I don't know how it will pass." Ibid. Dec. 24." I called at noon at Mrs Masham's, who desired me not to let the Prophecy be published, for fear of angering the queen about the duchess of Somerset ; so I writ to the printer to stop them." Ibid. Dec. 26.-" I entertained our society at the Thatched House tavern. The printer had not received my letter, and so brought us a dozen copies of the Prophecy; but I ordered him to part with no more. It is an admirable good one, and people are mad for it." Ibid. Dec. 27. N. H 3 rolled

rolled up very fast, put into a leather case; which case was tied at the top, and sealed with a St. George, the impression on black wax, very rude and gothic. The parchment was carried to a gentleman of learning, who found in it the following lines, written in a black old English letter and in the orthography of the age, which seems to be about two hundred years ago. I made a shift to obtain a copy of it; but the transcriber, I find, hath in many parts altered the spelling to the modern way. The original, as I am informed, is now in the hands of the ingenious Dr. W F.R.S. where, I suppose, the curious will not be refused the satisfaction of seeing it.

"The lines seem to be a sort of prophecy, and written in verse, as old prophecies usually are, but in a very hobbling kind of measure. Their meaning is very dark, if it be any at all; of which the learned reader can judge better than I: however it be, several persons were of opinion, that they deserved to be published, both as they discover somewhat of the genius of a former age, and may be an amusement to the present."

WHEN a holy black Swede, the son of Bob,* With a saint at his chin and a sealt at his fob, Shall not see one‡ New-year's-day in that year Then let old Englond make good cheer:

Windsor

*Dr. John Robinson, Bishop of Bristol, one of the plenipotentiaries at Utrecht.

N.

† He was dean of Windsor, and lord privy seal. N.

The New Style (which was not used in Great Britain and Ireland till 1752) was then observed in most parts of Europe.

The

*

Windsor and Bristow * then shall be
Joined together in the Low-countree.*
Then shall the tall black Daventry Bird↑
Speak against peace right many a word;
And some shall admire his conying wit,
For many good groats his tongue shall slit.
But, spight of the Harpy + that crawls on all four,
There shall be peace, pardie, and war no more.
But Englond must cry alack and well-a-day,
If the stick be taken from the dead sea.
And, dear Englond, if ought I understond,
Beware of Carrots § from Northumberlond.
Carrots sown Thynne || a deep root may get,
If so be they are in Somer set :

Their Conyng's mark thou; for I have been told,
They assassine when young, and poison when old.
Root out these Carrots, O thou,** whose name
Is backwards and forwards always the same;
And keep close to thee always that name,
Which backwards and forwards †† is almost the same.
And, Englond, wouldst thou be happy still,
Bury those Carrots under a Hill.‡‡

The bishop set out from England the latter end of December O. S; and on his arrival at Utrecht, by the variation of the Style, he found January somewhat advanced. N.

* Alluding to the deanery and bishopric being possessed by the same person, then at Utrecht.

† Earl of Nottingham. N.

§ The duchess of Somerset.

N.

Duke of Malborough. N.
N.

|| Thomas Thynne of Longleate, esq. a gentleman of very great estate, married the above lady after the death of her first husband, Henry Cavendish earl of Ogle, only son to Henry duke of Newcastle, to whom she had been betrothed in her infancy. N.

¶ Count Koningsmark. N.

** ANNA. N.

++ MASHAM. N.

EPIGRAM

Lady Masham's maiden name was Hill, N.
H 4

EPIGRAM. 1712.

As Thomas was cudgell'd one day by his wife,

He took to the street, and fled for his life:

Tom's three dearest friends came by in the squabble, And sav'd him at once from the shrew and the

rabble;

Then ventur'd to give him some sober advice-
But Tom is a person of honour so nice,
Too wise to take counsel, too proud to take warning,
That he sent to all three a challenge next morning;
Three duels he fought, thrice ventur'd his life;
Went home and was cudgell'd again by his wife,

CORINNA,* A BALLAD.

1711-12.

THIS day (the year I dare not tell)

Apollo play'd the midwife's part;

Into the world Corinna fell,

And he endow'd her with his art.

But Cupid with a Satyr comes;

Both softly to the cradle creep;
Both stroke her hands, and rub her gums,
While the poor child lay fast asleep.

* In this Ballad Mrs. Manley is characterized.—“I was in the city to-day, and dined with my printer, and gave him a ballad made by several hands, I know not whom. I believe lord treasurer had a finger in it. I added three stanzas. I suppose Dr. Arbuthnot had the greatest share." Journal to Stella, Jan. 3, 1711-12. N.

Then

Then Cupid thus: "This little maid.

Of love shall always speak and write," "And I pronounce," the Satyr said,

"The world shall fell her scratch, and bite."

Her talent she display'd betimes;

For in twice twelve revolving moons, She seem'd to laugh and squall in rhymes, And all her gestures were lampoons.

At six

years old the subtle jade

Stole to the pantry door, and found The butler with my lady's maid;

And you may swear the tale went round.

She made a song, how little miss
Was kiss'd and slobber'd by a lad;
And how when master went to p-,
Miss came, and peep'd at all he had.

At twelve a wit and a coquette;

Marries for love, half whore, half wife;
Cuckolds, elopes, and runs in debt;
Turns authoress, and is Curll's for life.

Her common-place book all gallant is,
Of scandal now a cornucopia;

She pours it out in Atalantis,

Or memoirs of the New Utopia.

THE