XI. ANOTHER.

THAT love is the Devil, I'll prove when requir'd;
Those rhymers abundantly show it:

They swear that they all by love are inspir'd,
And the Devil's a damnable poet.

TO JANUS, ON NEW-YEARS DAY.

1726.

TWO-fac'd Janus, god of Time!
my Phoebus while I rhime;

Be

it to m

To oblige your crony Swift,

Bring our dame a new-year's gift; „gad par vid She has got but half a face; ST3J-Janus, since thou hast a brace, -b-d To my lady once be kind on Give her half thy face behind. madmore God of Time, if be wise, Anomine Look not with your future eyes; What imports thy forward sight?

you

Well, if you could lose it quite.
Can you take delight in viewing
This poor Isle's* approaching ruin,
When thy retrospection vast,
Sees the glorious ages past.
Happy nation, were we blind,
Or had only eyes behind!

*Ireland. H.

A

0

Drown your morals, madam cries,
I'll have none but forward eyes;
Prudes decay'd about may tack,
Strain their necks with looking back.
Give me Time when coming on ;/
Who regards him when he's gone?
By the Dean though gravely told,ve
New years help to make me old ;k
Yet I find a new year's lace
Burnishes an old year's face:
Give me velvet and quadrille,
I'll have youth and beauty still.

A PASTORAL DIALOGUE

WRITTEN AFTER THE NEWS OF THE KING'S DEATH. «

RICHMOND LODGE is a house with a small, park belonging to the Crown. It was usually granted by the Crown for a lease of years. The duke of Ormond was the last who had it. After his exile, it was given to the Prince of Wales by the King. The Prince and Princess usually passed their summer there. It is within a mile of Richmond.

MARBLE HILL is a house built by Mrs. Howard, then of the bedchamber, afterward countess of Suffolk, and groom of the stole to the Queen. It is on the Middlesex side, near Twickenham, where Mr. Pope lived, and about two miles from Richmond Lodge. Mr Pope was the contriver of the gardens, lord Herbert the architect, the Dean of St. Patrick's chief butler, and keeper of the Ice-house. Upon King George's death, these two houses met, and had the following dialogue.

N spite of Pope, in spite of Gay,
And all that he or they can say;

George I. who died after a short sickness by eating a melon, at Osnaburg, in his way to Hanover, June 11, 1727.-The poem was carried to court, and read to King George II. and queen Caroline. H.

Sing

Sing on I must, and sing I will
Of Richmond Lodge and Marble Hill.
Last Friday night, as neighbours use,
This couple met to talk of news:
For, by old proverbs it appears,

That walls have tongues, and hedges ears.

MARBLE HILL.

Quoth Marble Hill, right well I ween, Your mistress now is grown a queen : You'll find it soon by woeful proof; She'll come no more beneath your roof.

RICHMOND LODGE.

* The kingly prophet well evinces,
That we should put no trust in princes;
My royal master promis'd me

To raise me to a high degree;
But now he's grown a king, God wot,
I fear I shall be soon forgot.

You see, when folks have got their ends,
How quickly they neglect their friends;
Yet I may say, 'twixt me and you,
Pray God, they now may find as true!

MARBLE HILL.

My house was built but for a show,

My lady's empty pockets know;
And now she will not have a shilling,
To raise the stairs, or build the ceiling;
For all the courtly madams round
Now pay four shillings in the pound;

'Tis come to what I always thought;
My dame is hardly worth a groat.
Had you and I been courtiers born,
We should not thus have lain forlorn:
For those we dextrous courtiers call,
Can rise upon their masters' fall.
But we, unlucky and unwise,

Must fall because our masters rise.

RICHMOND LODGE.

My master, scarce a fortnight since,
Was grown as wealthy as a prince;
But now it will be no such thing,
For he'll be poor as any king:
And by his crown will nothing get,
But like a king to run in debt.

MARBLE HILL.

No more the Dean, that grave divine,
Shall keep the key of my no-wine;
My ice house rob, as heretofore,
And steal my artichokes no more;
Poor Patty Blount no more be seen
Bedraggled in my walks so green:
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope:
And here no more will dangle Pope..

RICHMOND LODGE.

Here wont the Dean, when he's to seek,
To spunge a breakfast once a week;
To cry the bread was stale, and mutter
Complaints against the royal butter.

But

But now I fear it will be said,
No butter sticks upon his bread.
We soon shall find him full of spleen,
For want of tattling to the queen;
Stunning her royal ears with talking;
His reverence and her highness walking:
While lady Charlotte, like a stroller,
Sits mounted on the garden-roller.
A goodly sight to see her ride
With ancient Mirmont † at her side.
In velvet cap his head lies warm;
His hat for show beneath his arm.

MARBLE HILL.

Some South Sea broker from the city
Will purchase me, the more's the pity;
Lay all my fine plantations waste,
To fit them to his vulgar taste;
Chang d for the worse in every part,
My master Pope will break his heart.

In my own Thames may I be drownded,
If e'er I stoop beneath a crown'd head:
Except her majesty prevails

To place me with the prince of Wales;
And then I shall be free from fears,
For he'll be prince-these-fifty years.
I then will turn a courtier too,
And serve the times, as others do.

* Lady Charlotte de Roussy, a French lady. H. + Marquis de Mirmont, a Frenchman of quality.

H.