MISCELLANEOUS PIECES

IN

VERSE.

IMITATIONS OF HORACE.

[OF the following Imitations of Horace the first two are rather imitations of Swift, Horace merely supplying the text for the travesty. For (as previous editors have not failed to point out), no styles could be found less alike one another than the bland and polite style of Horace and the downright, and often cynically plain, manner of Swift. With Pope the attempt to write in Swift's style was a mere tour de force, which he could indeed carry out with success through a few lines, but not further, without relapsing into his own more elaborate manner. Swift's marvellous precision and netteté of expression are something very different from Pope's pointed and rhetorical elegance. The latter was as ill suited by the Hudibrastic metre patronised by Swift, as was the comic genius of Butler himself by the wider, but nowise easier, garment of the heroic couplet. As it was Swift, and not Horace, whom Pope imitated in the first two of the following pieces, it is needless to follow Warton into a comparison between them and previous attempts at a real version of Horace. The Ode to Venus, which was first published in 1737, more nearly approaches the character of a translation.]

'TIS tru Τ

BOOK I. EPISTLE VII.1

Imitated in the Manner of Dr SWIFT.

IS true, my Lord, I gave my word, I would be with you, June the third;

My Lord, your Favours well I know;
5 'Tis with Distinction you bestow;
And not to ev'ry one that comes,
Just as a Scotsman does his Plums.
Pray take them, Sir,-Enough's a
Feast:

Chang'd it to August, and (in short)
Have kept it-as you do at Court.
You humour me when I am sick,
Why not when I am splenetic?
In town, what Objects could I meet?
The shops shut up in ev'ry street,
And Fun'rals black'ning all the Doors,
And yet more melancholy Whores : ΙΟ
And what a dust in every place!
And a thin Court that wants your Face,
And Fevers raging up and down,
And W* and H ** both in town?!

"The Dog-days are no more the case. 'Tis true; but Winter comes apace: Then southward let your Bard retire,

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"Eat some, and pocket up the rest "– What? rob your Boys? those pretty rogues!

"No, Sir, you'll leave them to the Hogs.'

"Thus Fools with Compliments besiege 16

[Horace's Epistle, which serves as the groundwork of the above, is addressed to Mæcenas, and intended as an excuse and a justification for his protracted absence from Rome.

ye,
Contriving never to oblige ye.

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Only about half of Horace's Epistle is followed by Pope.]

2 [Possibly Ward and Henley, as two representative quacks for bodily and mental ailments.]

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Now this I'll say you'll find in me
A safe Companion, and a free;
But if you'd have me always near-
A word, pray, in your Honour's ear.
I hope it is your Resolution
To give me back my Constitution!
The sprightly Wit, the lively Eye1,
Th' engaging Smile, the Gaiety,
That laugh'd down many a Summer Sun,
And kept you up so oft till one:
And all that voluntary Vein,
As when Belinda rais'd my Strain.

A Weasel once made shift to slink
In at a Corn-loft thro' a Chink;
But having amply stuff'd his skin,
Could not get out as he got in:
Which one belonging to the House
('Twas not a Man, it was a Mouse)
Observing, cry'd, "You 'scape not so,
"Lean as you came, Sir, you must go.'

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My Bread, and Independency!
So bought an Annual Rent or two,
And liv'd-just as you see I do;
Near fifty, and without a Wife,
I trust that sinking Fund, my Life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my Paternal Cell4,
A little House, with Trees a-row,
50 And, like its Master, very low.
There died my Father, no man's Debtor,
And there I'll die, nor worse nor better.
To set this matter full before ye, 81
Our old Friend Swift will tell his Story.
"Harley, the Nation's great Sup-

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BOOK II. SATIRE VI.6

The first Part imitated in the Year 1714, by Dr SWIFT; the latter Part added

And not like forty other Fools:
As thus, "Vouchsafe, oh gracious Ma-
ker!

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"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 wits1.
Preserve, Almighty Providence,
Just what you gave me, Competence:
And let me in these shades compose
Something in Verse as true as Prose;
Remov'd from all th' Ambitious Scene,
Nor puff'd 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 2.

I must by all means come to town, "Tis for the service of the Crown.

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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 consider'd yet. "Good Mr Dean, go change your gown,

This, humbly offers me his CaseThat, begs my int'rest 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

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"The Duke expects my Lord and you, "About some great Affair, at Two-' "Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, 75 "To get my Warrant quickly sign'd: "Consider, 'tis my first request. 'Be satisfied, I'll do my best:'Then presently he falls to tease, 40 "You may for certain, if you please; So "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) 4 Since HARLEY bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble friend; 45 Would take me in his Coach to chat, And question me of this and that; As, "What's o'clock?" And, "How's the Wind?"

"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,
Hemm'd by a triple Circle round,
Chequer'd with Ribbons blue and green3:
How should I thrust myself between?
Some Wag observes me thus perplext,
And, smiling, whispers to the next,
"I thought the Dean had been too
proud,

"To jostle here among a crowd."

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1 [Swift's apprehension of idiotcy, to be so terribly justified at the close of his life, haunted him from an early period. Its most terrible expression is the description of the Struldbrugs in Gulliver's voyage to the Houyhnhms.]

2 [Swift appears never to have absolutely relinquished the hope of English preferment till his last visit to England in 1727. But he never condescended to ask it either of friend or foe.]

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