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This dreaded satirist Dennis will confess
Foe to his pride, but friend to his distress:
So humble, he has knock'd at Tibbald's door,
Has drunk with Cibber, nay, has rhymed for Moore.
Full ten years slander'd, did he once reply?—
Three thousand suns went down on Welsted's lie.
To please a mistress, one aspersed his life;
He lash'd him not, but let her be his wife :
Let Budgell charge low Grub-street on his quill,
And write whate'er he pleased, except his will;
Let the two Curlls of town and court abuse
His father, mother, body, soul, and Muse:
Yet why? that father held it for a rule,
It was a sin to call our neighbour fool;

That harmless mother thought no wife a whore:
Hear this, and spare his family, James Moore!
Unspotted names, and memorable long!
If there be force in virtue, or in song.

Ofgentle blood (part shed in Honour's cause, While yet in Britain Honour had applause) Each parent sprung-A. What fortune, pray?P. Their own;

And better got than Bestia's from the throne.
Born to no pride, inheriting no strife,
Nor marrying discord in a noble wife,
Stranger to civil and religious rage,

The good man walk'd innoxious through his age:
No counts he saw, no suits would ever try,
Nor dared an oath, nor hazarded a lie.

Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art,
No language but the language of the heart.
By nature honest, by experience wise,
Healthy by temperance and by exercise ;

His life, though long, to sickness past unknown
His death was instant and without a groan.
O grant me thus to live, and thus to die!
Who sprung from kings shall know less joy than I.
O friend! may each domestic bliss be thine!
Be no unpleasing melancholy mine:
Me, let the tender office long engage
To rock the cradle of reposing age,

With lenient arts extend a mother's breath,
Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death;
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep a while one parent from the sky!
On cares like these, if length of days attend,
May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my

Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,
And just as rich as when he served a queen.

A. Whether that blessing be denied or given, Thus far was right,—the rest belongs to Heaven,

[For the SATIRES, see page 4, vol. 37.



An Eclogue.


CARD. THE basset-table spread, the tallier come,
Why stays Smilinda in the dressing-room?
Rise, pensive nymph! the tallier waits for you.
SMIL. Ah, madam! since my Sharper is untrue,
I joyless make my once adored Alpheu.
I saw him stand behind Ombrelia's chair,
And whisper with that soft deluding air, [fair.
And those feign'd sighs which cheat the listening
CARD. Is this the cause of your romantic strains?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains:
As you by love, so I by fortune cross'd;
One, one bad deal, three septlevas have lost.
SMIL. Is that the grief which you compare with
With ease the smiles of fortune I resign: [mine?
Would all my gold in one bad deal were gone,
Were lovely Sharper mine, and mine alone.

CARD. A lover lost is but a common care, And prudent nymphs against that change prepare: The knave of clubs thrice lost; oh! who could guess

This fatal stroke, this unforeseen distress?

SMIL. See Betty Lovet! very à-propos,

She all the cares of love and play does know:

Dear Betty shall the' important point decide;
Betty! who oft the pain of each has tried;
Impartial, she shall say who suffers most,
By cards' ill usage, or by lovers lost.

Lov. Tell, tell your griefs, attentive will I stay, Though time is precious, and I want some tea. CARD. Behold this equipage, by Mathers wrought,

With fifty guineas (a great penn'worth) bought.
See on the toothpick Mars and Cupid strive,
And both the struggling figures seem alive.
Upon the bottom shines the queen's bright face;
A myrtle foliage round the thimble-case.
Jove, Jove himself, does on the scissars shine,
The metal and the workmanship divine.

SMIL. This snuff-box-once the pledge of
Sharper's love,

When rival beauties for the present strove;
At Corticelli's he the raffle won;

Then first his passion was in public shown:
Hazardia blush'd, and turn'd her head aside,
A rival's envy (all in vain) to hide.

This snuff-box-on the hinge see brilliants shine,
This snuff-box will I stake the prize is mine.

CARD. Alas! far lesser losses than I bear Have made a soldier sigh, a lover swear. And, oh! what makes the disappointment hard, 'Twas my own lord that drew the fatal card. In complaisance I took the queen he gave, Though my own secret wish was for the knave: The knave won sonica, which I had chose, And the next pull my septleva I lose.

SMIL, But, ah! what aggravates the killing smart,

The cruel thought that stabs me to the heart;

This cursed Ombrelia, this undoing fair,
By whose vile arts this heavy grief I bear;
She, at whose name I shed these spiteful tears,
She owes to me the very charms she wears.
An awkward thing when first she came to town,
Her shape unfashion'd, and her face unknown:
She was my friend; I taught her first to spread
Upon her sallow cheeks enlivening red;
I introduced her to the park and plays,
And by my interest Cozens made her stays.
Ungrateful wretch! with mimic airs grown pert,
She dares to steal my favourite lover's heart.

CARD. Wretch that I was, how often have I


When Winnall tallied, I would punt no more!
I know the bite, yet to my ruin run,

And see the folly which I cannot shun.

SMIL. How many maids have Sharper's vows deceived

How many cursed the moment they believed? Yet his known falsehoods could no warning prove; Ah! what is warning to a maid in love? [form'd,

CARD. But of what marble must that breast be To gaze on basset and remain unwarm'd? When kings, queens, knaves, are set in decent rank, Exposed in glorious heaps, the tempting bank, Guineas, half-guineas, all the shining train, The winner's pleasure, and the loser's pain; In bright confusion open rouleaus lie, They strike the soul, and glitter in the eye: Fired by the sight, all reason I disdain, My passions rise, and will not bear the rein. Look upon basset, you who reason boast, And see if reason must not there be lost.

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