A child at firft was wanting;

Now fuch a Son is fent, As parents moft lamenting

In him would find content.

A child, of whom kind Heaven
Not only hope bestows,
But has already given zi..
Him all our hopes propose.

The happy Sire's poffeffing
His fhare in fuch a boy,
Adds ftill a greater bleffing
To all my other joy..

But ah! this fhiny weather
Became too hot to last;
Black clouds began to gather,
And all the sky o'ercaft.

So fierce a fever rages,

We all lie drown'd in tears;

And difmal fad prefages

Come thund'ring in our ears.

The doubts that made us languish,
Did worse, far worse than kill ;
Yet, oh, with all their anguish,

Would we had doubted ftill.

But why fo much digreffion

This fatal lofs to fhow? Alas, there's no expreffion

Can tell a parent's woe!

On Mr. POPE

and his POEMS.

'Ith age decay'd', with Courts & bufinefs tir'd,
Caring for nothing but what eafe requir'd;

Too ferious now a wanton Mufe to court;
And from the Critics fafe arriv'd in port,
I little thought of launching forth agen,
Amidft advent'rous Rovers of the pen;
And after fome fmall undeferv'd fuccefs,
Thus hazarding at laft to make it lefs.

Encomiums fuit not this cenforious time,
It felfa fubject for fatyric rhime;
Ignorance honour'd, wit and worth defam'd,
Folly triumphant, and ev'n Homer blam'd!

But to this Genius, join'd with so much Art,
Such various Learning mix'd in ev'ry part,
Poets are bound a loud applaufe to pay;
Apollo bids it, and they must obey.

And yet fo wond'rous, fo fublime a thing,
As the great Iliad, fcarce fhould make me fing;
Except I juftly could at once commend
A good Companion, and as firm a Friend.
One moral, or a meer well-natur'd deed,
Can all defert in Sciences exceed.

'Tis great delight to laugh at fome men's ways,
But a much greater to give Merit praise.

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STANZA S.

my foolish bent to publick good,
Or fonder zeal for fome misguided Prince,
Shall make my dang'rous humour understood,
For changing Minifters for men of fenfe.

When vainly proud to fhew my publick care,
And ev'n afham'd to fee three Nations fool'd,
I fhall no longer bear a wretched share
In ruling ill, or being over-rul'd.

Then, as old letchers in a winter's night

To yawning hearers all their pranks disclose; 10 And what decay deprives them of delight, Supply with vain endeavours to impose:

Juft fo fhall I as idly entertain

Some ftripling patriots, fond of feeming wife; Tell, how I ftill cou'd great employments gain, IS Without concealing truths, or whifp'ring lyes.

Boaft of fucceeding in my country's caufe
Ev'n against some almost too high to blame;
Whom, when advanc'd beyond the reach of laws,
I oft have ridicul'd to fense and shame.

Say, Irefifted the moft potent fraud;

But friendless merit openly approv'd;

And that I was above the being aw'd,

Not only by my Prince, but thole he lov'd.

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Who

Who knows but my example then may please 25
Such noble, hopefull fpirits, as appear

Willing to flight their pleasures and their ease,
For fame and honour? till at last they hear;

After much trouble born, and danger run,.
The Crown affifted, and my Country ferv'd, 30
Without good fortune I had been undone,
Without a good eftate I might have starv'd.

The election of a Poet Laureat in 1719.

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Famous affembly was fummon'd of late:

To crown a new Laureat came Phoebus in ftate;
With all that Montfaucon himself could defire,
His bow, laurel, harp, and abundance of fire.

At Bartlemew-fair ne'er did bullies fo jufle,
No county election e'er made fuch a bustle:
From garret, Mint, tavern, they all poft away,
Some thirsting for fack, fome ambitious of bay.

All came with full confidence, flush'd with vain From Cibber and Durfey, to Prior and Pope. [hope, Phoebus fmil'd on thefe laft, but yet ne'er the less 11 Said, he hop'd they had got enough by the prefs.

With a huge mountain-load of heroical lumber, Which from Tonfon to Curl ev'ry prefs had groan'd under,

Came Blackmore and cry'd, look! all these are my But at prefent I beg you'd but read my Effays. [lays,

Lampooners and Criticks rufh'd in like a ty de, 17 Stern Dennis and Gildon came first fide by fide. Apollo confefs'd that their lafhes had ftings,

But beadles and hangmen were never chofe Kings.'

Steel long had fo cunningly manag'd the town, 21 He could not be blam'd for expecting the Crown: Apollo demurr'd as to granting his wish,

But with'd him good luck in his project of fish.

Lame Congreve, unable fuch things to endure, 25 Of Apollo beg'd either a Crown ora cure: To refufe fuch a writer Apollo was loth, And almost inclin'd to have granted him both.

30

When Buckingham came, he fcarce car'd to be seen 'Till Phoebus defir'd his old friend to walk in: But a Laureat Peer had never been known, The Commoners claim'd that place as their own.

Yet if the kind God had been ne'er fo inclin'd To break an old rule, yet he well knew his mind, Who of fuch preferment would only make sport, 35 And laugh'd at all fuitors for places at court.

[nam'd, Notwithstanding this law, yet Lansdown was But Apollo with kindnefs his indolence blam'd; [fear, And faid he would choose him, but that he should An employment of trouble he never could bear. 40

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