THE

Second Epiftle of the Second Book

OF

HORA CE.

D

Ludentis fpeciem dabit, et torquebitur. HoR.

EAR Col'nel, COBHAM's and your country's
Friend!

You love a Verfe, take fuch as I can fend.

b

A Frenchman comes, prefents you with his Boy, Bows and begins-"This Lad, Sir, is of Blois: "Obferve his shape how clean! his locks how curl'd! 66 My only fon, I'd have him fee the world:

Flore, bono claroque fidelis amice Neroni. Si quis forte velit puerum tibi vendere natum Tibure vel Gabiis, et tecum fic agat: "Hic et "Candidus, et talos a vertice pulcher ad imos, "Fiet eritque tuus nummorum millibus o&o; "Verna minifteriis ad nutus aptus heriles;

VER. 4. This Lad, Sir, is of Blois :] A Town in Beauce, where the French tongue is fpoken in great purity.

"His French is pure; his Voice too-you shall hear.
"Sir, he's your flave, for twenty pound a year.
"Mere wax as yet, you fashion him with ease,
"Your Barber, Cook, Upholst'rer, what you please:
"A perfect genius at an Op'ra-fong-

"To fay too much, might do my honour wrong.
"Take him with all his virtues, on my word;
"His whole ambition was to serve a Lord:

IL

"But, Sir, to you, with what would I not part? 15 "Tho 'faith, I fear, 'twill break his Mother's heart. "Once (and but once) I caught him in a lye, "And then unwhipp'd, he had the grace to cry: "The fault he has I fairly shall reveal, "(Could you o'erlook but that) it is to fteal. If, after this, you took the graceless lad, Could you complain, my Friend, he prov'd so bad? Faith, in fuch cafe, if you should profecute, I think Sir Godfrey fhould decide the fuit;

20

"Litterulis Græcis imbutus, indoneus arti "Culibet: argilla quidvis imitaberis uda : "Quin etiam canet indoctum, fed dulce bibenti. "Multa fidem promiffa levant, ubi plenius aequo "Laudat venales, qui vult extrudere, merces. "Res arget me nulla: meo fum pauper in aere. "Nemo hoc mangonum faceret tibi: non temere

a me

"Quivis ferret idem : femel hic ceffavit, et (ut fit) "In fealis latuit metuens pendentis habenae:

"Des numinos, excepta nihil te fi fuga laedit.

VER. 24. I think Sir Godfrey] An eminent Juftice of Peace, who decided much in the manner of Sancho Pancha...---Sir Godfrey Kneller.

Who fent the Thief that ftole the Cash, away,
And punish'd him that put it in his way.

d Confider then, and judge me in this light;

I told you when I went, I could not write;
You faid the fame; and are you discontent
With laws to which you gave your own affent?
Nay worse, to ask for Verse at fuch a time!
D'ye think me good for nothing but to rhyme?

e In ANNA's Wars, a Soldier poor and old
Had dearly earn'd a little purfe of gold:
Tir'd with a tedious march, one luckless night,
He flept, poor dog! and loft it, to a doit.
This put the man in fuch a defp'rate mind,
Between revenge, and grief, and hunger join'd
Against the foe, himself, and all mankind,
He leap'd the trenches, fcal'd a Castle-wall,
Tore down a Standard, took the Fort and all.
"Prodigious well;" his great Commander cry'd,
Gave him much praise, and fome reward beside.

Ille ferat pretium, poenae fecurus, opinor. Prudens emifti vitiofum: dicta tibi eft lex. Infequeris tamen hunc, et lite moraris iniqua. Dixi me pigrum proficifcenti tibi, dixi Talibus officiis prope mancum: ne mea faevus Jurgares ad te quod epiftola nulla veniret. Quid tum profeci, mecum facientia jura

Si tamen attentas? quereris fuper hoc etiam, quod
Exfpectata tibi non mittam carinina mendax.

e Luculli miles collecta viatica multis

25

30

Aerumnis, laffus dum noctu ftertit, ad affem Perdiderat: poft hoc vehemens lupus, et fibi et hofti

35

40

Next pleas'd his Excellence a town to batter;

(Its name I know not, and it's no great matter) 45 "Go on my Friend (he cry'd) see yonder walls! "Advance and conquer! go where glory calls! "More honours, more rewards attend the brave." Don't you remember what reply he gave ? "D'ye think me, noble Gen'ral such a Sot?

"Let him take caftles who has ne'er a groat."

50

f Bred up at home, full early I begun

To read in Greek the wrath of Peleus' fon.
Befides, my Father taught me from a lad,
The better art to know the good from bad :
(And little fure imported to remove,

To hunt for Truth in Maudlin's learned grove)

55

Iratus pariter, jejunis dentibus acer,
Præfidium regale loco dejecit, ut aiunt,
Summe munito, et multarum divite rerum.
Clarus ob id factum, donis ornatur honeftis,
Accipit et bis dena fuper feftertia nummûm.
Forte fub hoc tempus caftellum evertere praetor
Nefcio quod cupiens, hortari coepit eur dem
Verbis, quae timido quoque poffent addere mentem :
I, bone, quo virtus tua te vocat: i pede faufto,
Grandia laturus meritorum praemia: quid ftas?
Poft haec ille catus, quantumvis rufticus, "Ibit,
"Ibit eo, quo vis, qui zonam perdidit, inquit.
f Romae nutriri mihi contigit atque doceri,
Iratus Graiis quantum nocuiffet Achilles,
Adjecere bonae paulo plus artis Athenae:
Scilicet ut poffem curvo dignofcere rectum,
Atque inter filvas Academi quaerere veruin.
Dura fed emovere loco me tempora grato;

But knottier points we knew not half fo well,

Depriv'd us foon of our paternal Cell;

And certain laws by fuff'rers thought unjuft,

60

Deny'd all pofts of profit or of truft:
Hopes after hopes of pious Papifts fail'd

While mighty WILLIAM's thund'ring arm prevail'd.
For Right Hereditary tax'd and fin'd,

He stuck to poverty with peace of mind;
And me, the Mufes help'd to undergo it;
Convict a Papist he, and I a Poet.

But (thanks to Homer) fince I live and thrive,
Indebted to no Prince or Peer alive,

Sure I fhould want the art of ten Monroes,

If I would fcribble, rather than repose.

65

70

8 Years foll'wing years, steal something ev'ry day,

At laft they steal us from ourselves away;

In one our Frolics, one Amusements end,

In one a Mistress drops, in one a Friend:
This fubtle Thief of life, this paltry Time,
What will it leave me, if it fnatch my rhyme?

Civilifque rudem belli tulit aeftus in arma,
Caefaris Augufti non refponfura lacertis,
Unde fimul primum me dimifere Philippi,
Decifis humilem pennis, inopemque paterni
Et laris et fundi, paupertas impulit audax
Ut verfus facerein: fed, quod non defit, habentem;
Quae poterunt unquam fatis expurgare cicutae,
Ni melius dormire putem, quam fcribere versus ?
* Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes;
Eripuere jocos, venerem, convivia, ludum;

75

VER. 70. Monroes.] Dr Monroe, Physician to Bedlam Hofpital.