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Who to the dean and silver bell can swear,
And sees at Cannons what was never there;
Who reads but with a lust to misapply,
Make satire a lampoon, and fiction lie.
A lash like mine no honest man shall dread,
But all such babbling blockheads in his stead.
Let Sporus tremble-A. What? that thing of silk,
Sporus, that mere white curd of ass's milk?
Satire of sense, alas! can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?

370

Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, 300 Sappho can tell you how this man was bit: This dreaded sat rist 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 rhym'd for Moor. Full ten years slander'd, did he once reply? Three thousand suns went down on Welsted's lie. To please his mistress one aspers'd 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 pleas'd, except his will; Let the two Curlls of town and court, abuse 380 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.

311

P. Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,
This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings;
Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys,
Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys:
So well-bred spaniels civilly delight

In mumbling of the game they dare not bite.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,

As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Whether in florid impotence he speaks,

And as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks;
Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad,
Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, 320
In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies,

Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
His wit all see-saw, between that and this,
Now high, now low, now master up, now miss,
And he himself one vile Antithesis.
Amphibious thing! that, acting either part,
The trifling head! or the corrupted heart,
Fop at the toilet, flatterer at the board,
Now trips a lady, and now struts a lord.
Eve's tempter thus the Rabbins have exprest,
A cherub's face, a reptile all the rest.
Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will
trust,

330

340

Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Not Fortune's worshipper, nor Fashion's fool,
Not Lucre's madman, nor Ambition's tool,
Not proud, nor servile; be one poet's praise,
That, if he pleas'd, he pleas'd by manly ways:
That flattery, ev'n to kings, he held a shame,
And thought a lie in verse or prose the same;
That not in fancy's maze he wander'd long,
But stoop'd to Truth, and moraliz'd his song:
That not for fame, but Virtue's better end,
He stood the furious foe, the timid friend,
The damning critic, half approving wit,
The coxcomb hit, or fearing to be hit ;
Laugh'd at the loss of friends he never had,
The dull, the proud, the wicked, and the mad;
The distant threats of vengeance on his head,
The blow unfelt, the tear he never shed;
The tale reviv'd, the lie so oft o'erthrown,
Th' imputed trash, and dulness not his own;
The morals blacken'd when the writings 'scape,
The libel'd person and the pictur'd shape;
Abuse, on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread,
A friend in exile, or a father dead;
The whisper, that, to greatness still too near,
Perhaps, yet vibrates on his sovereign's car-
Welcome for thee, fair Virtue! all the past:
For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev'n the last!

350

A. But why insult the poor, affront the great? P. A knave's a knave, to me, in every state: [360 Alike my scorn, if he succeed or fail, Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail; A hireling scribbler, or a hireling peer, Knight of the post corrupt, or of the shire; If on a pillory or near a throne, He gain his prince's ear, or lose his own.

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

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400

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 courts he saw, no suits would ever try,
Nor dar'd 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, a d 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 friend,
Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,
And just as rich as when he serv'd a queen!
A. Whether that blessings.be deny'd or given,
Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heaven

Ver. 368, in the MS.

VARIATIONS.

410

Once, and but once, his heedless youth was bit,
And lik'd that dangerous thing, a feinale wit;
Safe as he thought, though all the prudent chid;
He writ,o libels, but my lady did:

Great odds in amorous or poetic game,
Where woman's is the siu, and man's the shame,

After ver. 405, in the MS.

And of myself, too, something must I say?
Take then this verse, the trifle of a day.
And if it live, it lives but to commend
The man whose heart has ne'er forgot a friend,
Or head, an author; critic, yet polite,
And friend to learning, yet too wise to write.

SATIRES AND EPISTLES OF HORACE

IMITATED.

ADVERTISEMENT.

An

THE Occasion of publishing these imitations was the clamour raised on some of my epistles. answer from Horace was both more full, and of more dignity, than any I could have made in my own person; and the example of much greater freedom in so eminent a divine as Dr. Donne, seemed a proof with what indignation and contempt a Christian may treat vice or folly, in ever so low, or ever so high a station. Both these authors were acceptable to the princes and ministers under whom they lived. The satires of Dr. Donne I versified, at the desire of the earl of Oxford while he was lord treasurer, and of the duke of Shrewsbury, who had been secretary of state: neither of whom looked upon a satire on vicious courts as any reflection on those they served in. And indeed there is not in the world

a greater errour, than that which fools are so apt to fall into, and knaves with good reason to encourage, the mistaking a satirist for a libeller; whereas to a true satirist nothing is so odious as a libeller, for the same reason as to a man truly virtuous nothing is so hateful as a hypocrite.

Uni æquus virtuti atque ejus amicis,

WHOEVER expects a paraphrase of Horace, or a faithful copy of his genius, or manner of writing, in these imitations, will be much disappointed. Our author uses the Roman poet for little more than his canvas: and if the old design or colouring chance to suit his purpose, it is well; if not, he employs his own, without scruple or ceremony. Hence it is, he is so frequently serious where Horace is in jest, and at ease where Horace is disturbed. In a word, he regulates his movements no further on his original, than was necessary for his concurrence in promoting their common plan of reformation of manners.

Had it been his purpose merely to paraphrase an ancient satirist, he had hardly made choice of Horace; with whom, as a poet, he held little in common, besides a comprehensive knowledge of life and manners, and a certain curious felicity of

expression, which consists in using the simplest language with dignity, and the most ornamented with ease. For the rest, his harmony and strength of numbers, his forec and splendour of colouring, his gravity and sublimity of sentiment, would have rather led him to another model. Nor was his temper less unlike that of Horace, than his talents. What Horace would only smile at, Mr. Pope would treat with the grave severity of Persius; and what Mr. Pope would strike with the caustic lightning of Juvenal, Horace would content himself in turning into ridicule.

If it be asked then, why he took any body at all to imitate, he has informed us in his adverti ement: To which we may add, that this sort of imitations, which are of the nature of parodies. adds reflected grace and splendour on original wit.

Besides, he deemed it more modest to give the name of imitations to his satire, than, like Despréaux, to give the name of satires to imitations.

BOOK II. SATIRE I.

TO MR. FORTESCUE.

P. THERE are (I scarce can think it, but am told
There are, to whom my satire seems too bold:
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.
2 The lines are weak, another's pleas'd to say,
Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day.
Timorous by nature, of the rich in awe,
3 I come to council learned in the law:
You'll give me, like a friend both sage and free,
Advice; and (as you use) without a fee.
F. I'd write no more.

4

P. Not write? but then I think,
And for my soul I cannot sleep a wink.
I nod in company, I wake at night,
Fools rush into my head, and so I write.

F. You could not do a worse thing for your life.
Why, if the nights seem tedious-take a wife :
"Or rather truly, if your point be rest,
Lettuce and cowslip wine; Probatum est.
But talk with Celsus, Celsus will advise
Hartshorn, or something that shall close your eyes.
Or, if you needs must write, write Cæsar's praise,
You'll gain at least a knighthood, or the bays.
P. What? like sir' Richard, rumbling, rough,
and fierce,

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Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine,
And sweetly flow through all the royal line.

P. Alas! few verses touch their nicer ear;
They scarce can bear their laureat twice a year;
And justly Cæsar scorns the poet's lays,
It is to history he trusts for praise.

F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it still,
Than ridicule all taste, blaspheme quadrille,
Abuse the city's best good men in metre,
And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter.
3 Ev'n those you touch not, hate you.

P. What should ail 'em?

F. A hundred smart in Timon and in Balaam :
The fewer still you name, you wound the more;
Bond is but one, but Harpax is a score.

P. Each mortal has his pleasure: none deny
Scarsdale his bottle, Darty his ham-pye;
Ridotta sips and dances, till she see
The doubling lustres dance as fast as she;
'F-loves the senate, Hockley hole his brother,
Like in all else, as one egg to another.

I love to pour out all myself, as plain As downright Shippen, or as old Montagne : In them, as certain to be lov'd as seen, The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought within; In me what spots (for spots I have) appear, Will prove at least the medium must be clear. In this impartial glass, my Muse intends Fair to expose myself, my foes, my friends; Publish the present age; but where my text Is vice too high, reserve it for the next: My foes shall wish my life a longer date, And every friend the less lament my fate. My head and heart thus flowing through my quill, "Verseman or proseman, term me what you will, Papist or Protestant, or both between, Like good Erasmus in an honest mean, In moderation placing all my glory, While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory. Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet;

Cum res ipsa feret: nisi dextro tempore, Flacci
Verba per attentam non ibunt Cæsaris aurem :
Cui male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus.
T. 2 Quanto rectius hoc, quam tristi lædere versu
Pantolabum scurram, Nomentanumve nepotem?
Cum sibi quisque timet, quanquam est intactus, et
odit.

H. Quid faciam? saltat Milonius, ut semel icto
Accessit fervor capiti, numerusque lucernis.
Castor gaudet equis; ovo prognatus eodem,
Pugnis. quot capitum vivunt, totidem studiorum
Millia. me pedibus delectat claudere verba,
Lucili ritu, nostrúm melioris utroque.

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'I only wear it in a land of Hectors,
Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.
2 Save but our army! and let Jove incrust
Swords, pikes, and guns, with everlasting rust!
3 Peace is my dear delight-not Fleury's more:
But touch me, and no minister so sore.
Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time
4 Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the sad burthen of some merry song.

Slander or poison dread from Delia's rage;
Hard words or hanging, if your judge be Page.
From furious Sappho scarce a milder fate,
P-x'd by her love, or libell'd by her hate.

Its proper power to hurt, each creature feels; Bulls aim their horns, and asses lift their heels; 'Tis a bear's talent not to kick, but hug; And no man wonders he's not stung by pug. 7 So drink with Walters, or with Chartres eat, They'll never poison you, they'll only cheat.

Then, learned sir! (to cut the matter short) Whate'er my fate, or well or ill at court; Whether old-age, with faint but cheerful ray, Attends to gild the evening of my day, Or Death's black wing already be display'd, To wrap me in the universal shade; Whether the darken'd room to muse invite, Or whiten'd wall provoke the skewer to write: In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint,

Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print. F. 10 Alas, young man! your days can ne'er be long, In flower of age you perish for a song! Plums and directors, Shylock and his wife, Will club their testers, now, to take your life! P. "What? arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen, Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men; Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car; Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a star; Can there be wanting, to defend her cause, Lights of the church, or guardians of the laws? Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain Flatterers and bigots ev'n in Louis' reign? Could laureate Dryden pimp and friar engage, Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage?

1 Tutus ab infestis latronibus? O pater et rex Jupiter, ut percat positum rubigine telum, Nec quisquam noceat cupido mihi pacis! at ille, Qui me commôrit, (melius non tangere, clamo) 4 Fiebit, et insignis tota cantabitur urbe.

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5 Cervius iratus leges minitatur et urnam ; Canidia Albutî, quibus est inimica, venenum; Grande malum Turius, si quid se judice certes: I't, quo quisque valet, suspectos terreat, utque Imperitet hoc natura potens, sic collige mecum. Dente lupus, cornu taurus petit; unde nisi intus Monstratum? Scævæ vivacem crede nepoti Matrem; nil faciet sceleris pia dextra (mirum ? Ut neque calce lupus quemquam, neque dente petit Sed mala tollet anum vitiato melle cicuta.

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Ne longum faciam: seu me tranquilla senectus Expectat, seu Mors atris circumvolat alis; Dives, inops; Romæ, seu fors ita jusserit, exsul; Quisquis erit vitæ, scribam, color.

T. 10 O puer, ut sis Vitalis metuo; et majorum ue quis amicus Frigore te feriat.

H. Quid? cum est Lucilius ausus Primus in hunc operis componere carmina morem.

And I not strip the gilding off a knave,
Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir or slave?
I will, or perish in the generous cause:
Hear this, and tremble! you, who 'scape the laws.
Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave
Shall walk the world in credit, to his grave.
2 To Virtue only and her friends a friend,
The world beside may murmur or commend.
Know, all the distant din that world can keep,
Rolls o'er my grotto, and but sooths my sleep.
3 There, my retreat the best companions grace,
Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place.
There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl
The feast of reason and the flow of soul:

And he, whose lightning pierc'd th' Iberian lines,
Now forms my quincunx, and now ranks my vines;
Or tames the genius of the stubborn plain,
Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.

* Envy must own, I live among the great,
No pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state;
With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats;
Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats;
To help who want, to forward who excel;
This, all who know me, know; who love me, tell;
And who unknown defame me, let them be
Scribblers or peers, alike are mob to me.
This is my plea, on this I rest my cause-
"What saith my council, learned in the laws?
F. Your plea is good; but still I say, beware!
Laws are explain'd by men-so have a care.
It stands on record, that in Richard's times
A man was hang'd for very honest rhymes;
7 Consult the statute, quart." I think, it is,
"Edwardi sext." or "prim. et quint. Eliz."
See libels, satires-here you have it-read.

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P. Libels and satires! lawless things indeed! But grave epistles, bringing vice to light, Such as a king might read, a bishop write, Such as sir Robert would approve—

F. Indeed! The case is alter'd-you may then proceed; In such a case the plaintiff will be hiss'd, My lords the judges laugh, and you're dismiss'd. 1 Detrahere et pellem, nitidus qua quisque per ora Cederet, introrsum turpis; num Lælius, aut qui Duxit ab oppressa meritum Carthagine nomen, Ingenio offensi? aut læso doluere Metello, Famosisque lupo cooperto versibus? atqui Primores populi arripuit, populumque tributim; Scilicet uni æquus virtuti atque ejus amicis. 3 Quin ubi se a vulgo et scena in secreta remorant Virtus Scipiadæ et mitis sapientia Læli, Nugari cum illo, et discincti ludere, donec Decoqueretur olus, soliti.

2

Quidquid sum ego, quamvis Infra Lucili censum, ingeniumque; tamen me * Cum magnis vixisse invita fatebitur usque Invidia; et fragili quærens illidere dentem, Offendet solido:

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BOOK II. SATIRE II.

TO MR. BETHEL.

WHAT, and how great, the virtue and the art

To live on little with a cheerful heart;

2

(A doctrine sage, but truly none of mine) Let's talk, my friends, but talk 'before we dine. 4 Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride Turns you from sound philosophy aside; Not when from plate to plate your eye-balls roll, And the brain dances to the mantling bowl. Hear Bethel's sermon, one not vers'd in schools, But strong in sense, and wise without the rules. Then scorn a homely dinner, if you can. Go work, hunt, exercise! (he thus began) 'Your wine lock'd up, your butler stroll'd abroad, Or fish deny'd (the river yet unthaw'd), If then plain bread and milk will do the feat, The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat.

Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men Will chuse a pheasant still before a hen; Yet hens of Guinea full as good I hold, Except you eat the feathers green and gold. 9 Of carps and mullets why prefer the great, (Though cut in pieces ere my lord can eat) Yet for small turbots such esteem profess? Because God made these large, the other less.

3

SATIRA II.

1 QUÆ virtus et quanta, boni, sit vivere parvo, 2 (Nec meus hic sermo: sed qua præcepit Ofellus, Rusticus, abnormis sapiens, crassaque Minerva) Discite, non inter lances mensasque nitentes; Cum stupet insanis acies fulgoribus, et cum Acclinis falsis animus meliora recusat:

4

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"Verum hic impransi mecum disquirite. Cur hoe?
Dicam, si potero, male verum examinat omnis
Corruptus judex. Leporum sectatus, equove
Lassus ab indomito; vel (si Romana fatigat
Militia assuetum græcari) seu pila velox,
Molliter austerum studió fallente laborem ;
Seu te discus agit, pete cedentem aëra disco:
Cum labor extulerit fastidia; siccus, inanis,
Sperne cibum vilem: nisi Hymettia mella Falerno,
Ne biberis, diluta. foris est promus, et atrum
Defendens pisces hiemat mare: cum sale panis
Latrantem stomachum bene leniet, unde putas, aut
Qui partum? non in caro nidore voluptas
Summa, sed in teipso est. tu pulmentaria quære
Sudando. pinguem vitiis albumque neque ostrea,
Nec scarus, aut poterit peregrina juvare lagoïs.

a Vix tamen eripiam, posito pavone, velis quin Hoc potius quam gallina tergere palatum ? Corruptus vanis rerum: quia veneat auro Rara avis, et picta pandat spectacula cauda: [ista, Tamquam ad rem attineat quidquain. Num vesceris Quam laudas, pluma? coctove num adest honor idem?

jus

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'Oldfield with more than harpy throat endued,
Cries, "Send me gods! a whole hog barbecued!"
Oh blast it, south-winds! till a stench exhale
Rank as the ripeness of a rabbit's tail.
By what criterion do you eat, d'ye think,
If this is priz'd for sweetness, that for stink?
When the tir'd glutton labours through a treat,
He finds no relish in the sweetest meat,
He calls for something bitter, something sour,
And the rich feast concludes extremely poor:
3 Cheap eggs, and herbs, and olives, still we see ;
Thus much is left of old simplicity!

The robin-red-breast till of late had rest,
And children sacred held a martin's nest,
Till beccaficos sold so dev'lish dear
To one that was, or would have been, a peer.
Let me extol a cat on oysters fed,
I'll have a party at the Bedford-head;
Or ev❜n to crack live crawfish recommend ;
I'd never doubt at court to make a friend.

6 "Tis yet in vain, I own, to keep a pother About one vice, and fall into the other: Between excess and famine lies a mean, Plain, but not sordid; though not splendid, clean. 7 Avidien, or his wife, (no matter which, For him you'll call a dog, and her a bitch) Sell their presented partridges and fruits, And humbly live on rabbits, and on roots: "One half-pint bottle serves them both to dine, And is at once their vinegar and wine.

8

But on some 10 lucky day (as when they found
A lost Bank bill, or hear'd their son was drown'd),
At such a feast," old vinegar to spare,
Is what two souls so generous cannot bear:
Oil, though it stink, they drop by drop impart,
But sowse the cabbage with a bounteous heart..
12 He knows to live, who keeps the middle state,
And neither leans on this side, nor on that;
Nor 13 stops, for one bad cork, his butler's pay,
Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away;

1 Porrectum magno magnum spectare catino Vellem, ait Harpyiis gula digna rapacibus. At vos, 2 Præsentes Austri, coquite horum opsonia; quamquam

3

Putet aper rhombusque recens, mala copia quando
Ægrum sollicitat stomachum; cum rapula plenus
Atque acidas mavult inulas. ' necdum omnis abacta
Pauperies epulis regum: nam vilibus ovis
Nigrisque est oleis hodie locus. Haud ita pridem
Galloni præconis erat accipensere mensa
Infamis. quid? tum rhombus minus æquora alebant?
Tutus erat rhombus, tutoque ciconia nido,
Donec vos auctor docuit prætorius. ergo
'Si quis nunc mergos suaves edixerit assos,
Parebit parvi docilis Romana juventus.

"Sordidus a tenui victus distabit, Ofello Judice: nam frustra vitium vitaveris istud, Si te alio pravus detorseris. 7 Avidienus,

Cui Canis ex vero ductum cognomen adhæret, Quinquennes oleas est, et sylvestria corna; Ac, nisi mutatum, parcit defundere vinum; et Cujus odorem olei nequeas perferre (licebit Ille repotia, natales, aliosque dierum 10 Festos albatus celebret) cornu ipse bilibri Caulibus instillat, " veteris non parcus aceti.

Quali igitur vietu sapiens utetur. et horum Utrum imitabitur? hac urget lupus, hac canis, aiunt, 12 Mundus erit, qua non offen fat sordibus, atque In neutram partem cultus miser. Hic neque servis Albutí senis exemplo, dum munia didit,

1

Nor lets, like Nævius, every errour pass, The musty wine, foul cloth, or greasy glass.

2 Now hear what blessings Temperance can bring : (Thus said our friend, and what he said I sing) 3 First Health: The stomach (cramm'd from every A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish, [dish, Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, And all the man is one intestine war) Remembers oft the schoolboy's simple fare, The temperate sleeps, and spirits light as air.

How pale, each worshipful and reverend guest Rise from a clergy, or a city feast! What life in all that ample body, say? What heavenly particle inspires the clay? The soul subsides, and wickedly inclines To seem but mortal, ev'n in sound divines.

6 On morning wings how active springs the mind
That leaves the load of yesterday behind!
How easy every labour it pursues !
How coming to the poet every Muse!

7 Not but we may exceed, some holy time,
Or tir'd in search of truth, or search of rhyme;
Ill health some just indulgence may engage ;.
And more the sickness of long life, old age;
For fainting age what cordial drop remains,
If our intemperate youth the vessel drains?

Our fathers prais'd rank ven'son. You suppose,
Perhaps, young men! our fathers had no nose.
Not so: a buck was then a week's repast,
And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last;
More pleas'd to keep it till their friends could come,
Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home.
10 Why had not I in those good times my birth,
Ere coxcomb pyes or coxcombs were on Earth?

Unworthy he, the voice of Fame to hear,

11 That sweetest music to an honest ear; (For 'faith lord Fanny! you are in the wrong, The world's good word is better than a song) Who has not learn'd,12 fresh sturgeon and hamn-pye Are no rewards for want and infamy!

Sævus erit: nec sic ut simplex' Nævius, unetam Convivis præbebit aquam: vitium hoc quoque

magnum.

2 Accipe nunc, victus tenuis quæ quantaque secum Afferat. In primis valeas bene; nam variæ res Ut noceant homini, credas, memor illius escæ, Quæ simplex olim, tibi sederit. at simul assis Miscueris elixa, simul conchylia turdis; Dulcia se in bilem vertent, stomachoque tumultum Lenta feret pituita. Vides, ut pallidus omnis Cœna desurgat dubia? quin corpus onustum Hesternis vitiis animum quoque prægravat una, Atque affigit humo divinæ particulam auræ.

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Alter, ubi dicto citius curata sopori Membra dedit, vegetus præscripta ad munia surgit. *Hic tamen ad melius poterit transcurrere quondam; Sive diem festum rediens advexerit annus, Seu recreare volet tenuatum corpus: ubique Accedent anni, et tractari mollius ætas Imbecilla volet. Tibi quidnam accedet ad istam, Quam puer et validus præsumis, mollitiem; seu Dura valetudo inciderit, seu tarda senectus? [nasus

Rancidum aprum antiqui laudabant: non quia Illis nullus erat; sed, credo, hac mente, quod hospes Tardius adveniens vitiatum commodius, quam Integram edax dominus consumeret, 10 hos utinam Heroas natum tellus me prima tulisset. [inter

"Das aliquid famæ, quæ carmine gratior aurem Occupet humanam ? grandes rhombi, patinæque Grande ferunt una 12 cum damno dedecus. adde

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