While yet my steady steps no staff sustains,
And life ftill vig'rous revels in my veins ;
Grant me, kind heaven, to find fome happier place,
Where honefty and fenfe are no disgrace;

Some pleafing bank where verdant ofiers play, 45
Some peaceful vale with nature's painting gay;
Where once the harrafs'd Briton found repose,

And safe in poverty defy'd his foes;

Some fecret cell, ye pow'rs, indulgent give. has learn'd to live. 50

Let

live here, for

Here let those reign, whom penfions can incite
To vote a patriot black, a courtier white;
Explain their country's dear-bought rights away,
And plead for pirates in the face of day;
With flavish tenets taint our poifon'd youth,
And lend a lye the confidenee of truth.

Let fuch raise palaces, and manors buy,
Collect a tax, or farm a lottery,

With warbling eunuchs fill a licens'd stage,
And lull to fervitude a thoughtless age.

55

60

Heroes, proceed! what bounds your pride fhall

hold?

What check reftrain your thirst of pow'r and gold? Behold rebellious virtue quite o'erthrown,

Behold our fame, our wealth, our lives your own. To fuch, a groaning nation's spoils are giv'n, 65 When publick crimes inflame the wrath of heav'n: But what, my friend, what hope remains for me, Who start at theft, and blush at perjury?

70

Who fcarce forbear, tho' BRITAIN'S court he fing,
To pluck a titled poet's borrow'd wing;
A statesman's logick unconvinc'd can hear,
And dare to flumber o'er the Gazetteer;
Despise a fool in half his penfion drefs'd,
And ftrive in vain to laugh at Hy's jeft.
H-
Others with fofter fmiles, and fubtler art,

Can fap the principles, or taint the heart;
With more addrefs a lover's note convey,
Or bribe a virgin's innocence away.

75

Well may they rife, while I, whose rustick tongue Ne'er knew to puzzle right, or varnish wrong, 80 Spurn'd as a beggar, dreaded as a spy,

Live unregarded, unlamented die.

For what but focial guilt the friend endears?
Who shares Orgilio's crimes, his fortune shares.
But thou, fhould tempting villainy present,
All Marlb'rough hoarded, or all Villiers spent,
Turn from the glitt'ring bribe thy scornful eye,
Nor fell for gold, what gold could never buy,
The peaceful flumber, felf-approving-day,
Unfullied fame, and conscience ever gay,

85

90

The cheated nation's happy fav'rites, see ! Mark whom the great carefs, who frown on me! LONDON! the needy villain's genʼral home, The common fhore of Paris, and of Rome; With eager thirst, by folly or by fate, Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.

95

Forgive my transports on a theme like this,
I cannot bear a French metropolis.

100

Illustrious EDWARD! from the realms of day, The land of heroes and of faints survey; Nor hope the British lineaments to trace, The ruftick grandeur, or the furly grace, But loft in thoughtless ease, and empty show, Behold the warrior dwindled to a beau ; Since, freedom, piety, refin'd away,

Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey.

All that at home no more can beg or steal,

Or like a gibbet better than a wheel;

105

Hifs'd from the stage, or hooted from the court, Their air, their drefs, their politicks import; 110 Obfequious, artful, voluble and gay,

On Britain's fond credulity they play.

No gainful trade their industry can 'scape,

They fing, they dance, clean shoes, and cure a clap;

All sciences a fafting Monfieur knows,

And bid him go to hell, to hell he goes.
Ah! what avails it, that, from flav'ry far,

I drew the breath of life in English air;
Was early taught a Briton's right to prize,
And lifp the tales of HENRY's victories;
If the gull'd conqueror receives the chain,
And flattery fubdues when arms are vain ?

Studious to please, and ready to fubmit,
The fupple Gaul was born a parasite :

115

120

Still to his int'reft true, where-e'er he goes,
Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue beflows;
In ev'ry face a thousand graces fhine,

From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine.

These arts in vain our rugged natives try,
Strain out with fault'ring diffidence a lye,
And gain a kick for aukward flattery.

125

130

Befides, with juftice, this difcerning age Admires their wond'rous talents for the stage: Well may they venture on the mimick's art, Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part; 135 Practis'd their mafter's notions to embrace,

Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face ;

With ev'ry wild abfurdity comply,

And view each object with another's eye;

To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear, 140
To pour at will the counterfeited tear,

And as their patron hints the cold or heat,
To shake in dog-days, in December sweat.
How, when competitors like thefe contend,
Can furly virtue hope to fix a friend?
Slaves that with ferious impudence beguile,
And lye without a blush, without a smile
Exalt each trifle, ev'ry vice adore,

145

Your taste in snuff, your judgement in a whore ; Can Balbo's eloquence applaud, and swear

150

He gropes his breeches with a monarch's air. For arts like these prefer'd, admir'd, caress'd, They first invade your table, then your breast;

Explore your fecrets with infidious art,
Watch the weak hour, and ransack all the heart; 155
Then foon your ill-plac'd confidence repay,
Commence your lords, and govern or betray.

By numbers here from shame or censure free,
All crimes are fafe, but hated poverty.
This, only this, the rigid law pursues,

This, only this, provokes the fnarling Muse.
The fober trader at a tatter'd cloak,

Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke ;
With brisker air the filken courtiers gaze,

160

And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. 165

Of all the griefs' that harrafs the diftrefs'd,

Sure the most bitter is a fcornful jeft;

170

Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart,
Than when a blockhead's infult points the dart.
Has heaven referv'd, in pity to the poor,
No pathlefs wafte, or undiscover'd shore ?
No fecret island in the boundless main?
No peaceful defart yet unclaim'd by SPAIN?
Quick let us rife, the happy feats explore,
And bear oppreffion's infolence no more.

This mournful truth is ev'ry where confefs'd,
SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY

PRESS'D:

175

DE

But here more flow, where all are flaves to gold, Where looks are merchandise, and fmiles are fold; Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, 180 The groom retails the favours of his lord.