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THE FIRST PART IMITATED IN THE YEAR 1714, BY DR. SWIFT; THE LATTER PART
I've often wished 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.
"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:
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 wits.
Preserva, Almighty Providence,
Just what you gave me, competence:
And iet me in these shades compose
Something in verse as true as prose;
Removed from all th' ambitious scene,
Nor puffed 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 considered 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;
And find his honour in a pound,
Hemmed by a triple circle round,
Chequered with ribbons blue and green:
How should I thrust myself between?
Some wag observes me thus perplext,
And, smiling, whispers to the next,
“I thought the Dean had been to proud,
To jostle here among a crowd.”
Another in a surly fit,
Tells me I have more zeal than wit:
“So eager to express your love,
You ne'er consider whom you shove,
But rudely press before a duke."
I own I'm pleased with this rebuke,
And take it kindly meant to show
What I desire the world should know.
I get a whisper, and withdraw; When twenty fools I never saw Come with petitions fairly penned, Desiring I would stand their friend.
This, humbly offers me his caseThat, begs my interest for a placeA hundred other men's affairs, Like bees, are humming in my ears “ To-morrow my appeal comes on, Without your help the cause is gone"“ The duke expects my lord and you, About some greač affair, at two” “Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, To get my warrant quickly signed: 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;
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; (wind ?”
As, “What's o'clock ?” and “How's the
“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
My lord and me as far as Staines,
As once a week we travel dowu
To Windsor, and again to town,
Where all that passes, inter nos,
Might be proclaimed at Charing Cross.
Yet some I know with envy swell.
Because they see me used so well:
“How think you of our friend the Dean?
I wonder what some people mean;
My lord and he are grown so great,
Always together, tete-a-tete.
What, they admire him for his jokes
See but the fortune of some folks!”
There flies about a strange report
Of some express arrived at court;
I'm stopped by all the fools I meet,
And catechised in ev'ry street.
“You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great;
Inform us, will the emp'ror treat?
Or do the prints and papers lie ?”.
“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 though I solemnly declare
I know no more than my Lord Mayor,
They stand amazed, and think me grown
The closest mortal ever known.
Thus in a sea of folly tossed, My choicest hours of life are lost; Yet always wishing to retreat, Oh, could I see my country seat! There, leaning near a gentle brook,. Sleep, or peruse some ancient book, And there in sweet oblivion drown Those cares that haunt the court and town. O charming noons! and nights divine ! Or when I sup, or when I dine, My friends above, my folks below, Chatting and laughing all a-row, The beans and bacon set before 'em, The grace-cup served with all decorum: Each willing to be pleased, and please, And ev’n the very dogs at e ise! Here no man prates of idle things, How this or that Italian sings, A neighbor'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, And what, the very best of all ?
Our friend, Dan Prior, told, (you know) A tale extremly a propos: Name a town life, and in a trice, He had a story of two mice. Once on a time (so runs the fable) A country mouse, right hospitable, Received a town mouse at his board, Just as a farmer might a lord. A frugal mouse upon the whole, Yet loved 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 pleased a dean; Cheese, such as men in Suffolk make, But wished it Stilton for his sake;
Yet, to his guest though no way sparing,
He ate himself the rind and paring.
Our courtier scarce could touch a bit,
But showed his breeding and his wit;
He did Lis best to seem to eat,
And cried, “I vow you're mighty neat.
But ord, my friend, this savage scene!
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)."
The veries: hermit in the nation
May yiele., God knows, to strong temptation.
Away they come, through 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
Shined in description, he might show it;
Tell how the moonbeam trembling falls,
And tips with silver all the walls;
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, tete-a-tete.
Our courtier walks from dish to dish,
Tastes for his friend of fowl and fish;
Tells all their names, lays down the law,
“Que ca est bon! Ah goutez ca !
That jelly's rich, this malmsey healing,
Pray, dip your whiskers and your tail in."
Was ever such a happy swain ?
He stuffs and swills, and stuffs again.
“I'm quite ashamed-'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”-