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Earnely and Aylesbury, with all that raee
Of busy blackheads, shall have here no place ;
At council fet as foils on Dorset's score,
To make that great false jewel shine the more ;
Who all that while was thought exceeding wise,
Only for taking pains and telling lies,
But there's no meddling with such nauseous men ;
Their very names have tir'd my lazy pen :
'Tis time to quit their company, and choose
Some fitter subject for a sharper Muse.

First, let's behold the merriest man alive
Against his careless genius vainly strive ;
Quit his dear ease, fome deep design to lay,
'Gainst a set time; and then forget the day :
Yet he will laugh at his best friends; and be,
Just as good company as Nokes and Lee.
But when he aims at reason or at rule,
He turns himself at beft to ridicule,
Let him at bus'ness ne'er fo earnest fit,
Shew him but mirth, and bait that mirth with wit,
That shadow of a jest shall be enjoy’d,
Though he left all mankind to be destroy'd,
So cat transform'd fat gravely and demure,
Till mouse appear’d, and thought himself secure,
But soon the lady had him in her eye,
And from her friend did just as oddly fly.


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Reaching above our nature does no good ;
We must fall back to our old flesh and blood ;
As by our littte Machiavel, we find
That nimblest creature of the bufy kind,
His limbs are crippled, and his body fhakes ;
Yet his hard mind, which all this bustle makes,'
No pity of its poor companion takes.
What gravity can hold from laughing out; }
To see him drag his feeble legs about,
Like hounds ill-coupled ? Jowler lugs him fil
Thro' hedges, ditches, and thro' all that's ill.
"Twere crime in any man but him alone,
To use a body fo, tho' 'tis one's own :
Yet this false comfort never gives him o'er,
That whilft he creeps his vig'rous thoughts can foar :
Alas ! that soaring, to those few that know,
Is but a busy grov'ling here below.
So in

rapture think they mount the sky,
Whilt on the ground th' entranced wretches lie :
So modern fops have fancied they could fly.
As the new earl with parts deferving praise,
And wit enough to laugh at his own ways ;
Yet lofes all soft days and sensual nights,
Kind nature checks, and kinder fortune flights;
Striving against his quiet all he can,
For the fine notion of a busy ma n.


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And what is that, at best, but one whose mind
Is made to tire himself and all mankind ?
For Ireland he would go ; faith, let him reign ;
For if some odd fantastic lord would fain
Carry in trunks, and all my drudg'ey do,
I'll not only pay him, but admire him too.
But is there any other bealt shat lives,
Who his own harm, fo wittingly contrives?
Will any dog, that has his teeth and ftones,
Refin’dly leave his bitches and hiç bones
To turn a wheel ? and bark to be employ'd,
While Venus is by rival dogs enjoy'd ?,
Yet this fond man, to get a statesman's name,
Forfeits his friends, his freedom, and his fame.

Though satire nicely writ no humour stings
But those who merit praise in other things;
Yet we must needs this one exception make,
And break our rules for folly Tropos fake,
Who was too much despis’d to be accus’d,
And therefore scarce deserves to be abus'd;.
Rais'd only by his mercenary tongue,
For railing smoothly, and for reasining wrong.
As boys on holidays let loofe to play
Lay waggısh traps for giels that pass that way,
Then shout to see in dirt and deep distrels
Some filly cit in her flower'd foolish dress;

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So have I mighty satisfaction found, C.*******
To see his rinseł reason on the ground: { "w?:1, biez' 4
To see the florid fool de pis'd, and know it,- S...
By some who scarce have words enough to lhew it's glad. !
For sense sits filent, and condemns for weaker 20 lat 33,''
The finer, nay sometimes the wittiest speaker: * 1,7601 133 A
But ’ris prodigious To much eloquence' te fagenerous pas bella y
Should be acquired by fuch little ferise ; 9,1
For words and wit did anciently agree;
And Tully was no fool, though this man be:
At bar abusive, on the bench unable,
Knave on the woolfack, fop at council-table.
These are the grievances of such fools as would
Be rather wise than honest, great than good.

Some other kinds of wits must be made known,
Whose harmless errors hurt themselves alone;
Excess of luxury they think can please,
And laziness call loving of their ease;
To live dissolv'd in pleasures fill they feign,
Though their whole life's but intermitting pain :
So much of surfeits, head-achs, claps are feen,
We scarce perceive the little time between :
Well-meaning men who make this grofs miftake,
And pleasure lose only for pleasure's fake ;
Each pleasure has its price; and when we pay
Too much of pain, we squander life away,


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Thus Dorset, purring like a thoughtful cat,
Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that;
And first he worried her with railing rhyme,
Like Pembroke's malliffs at his kindest rime;
Then for one night sold all his lavish life,
A teeming widow, but a barren wife;
Swellid by contact of such a fulsome toad,
He lugg'd about the matrimonial load;
Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he,
Has ill resor'd him to his liberty!
Which he would use in his old sneaking way,
Drinking all night, and dozing all the day ;
Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brisker times,
Had fam'd for dullness in malicious rhymes.

Mulgrave had much ado to scape the fnare,
Tho' learn'd in all those arts that cheat the fair ;
For, after all his vulgar marriage-mocks,
With beauty dazzled, Numps was in the stocks ;
Deluded parents dried their weeping eyes,
To see him catch a tartar for his prizes
Th' impatient town waited the wish'd-for change,
And cuckolds smil'd in hopes of sweet revenge s
Till Petworth plot made us with sorrow see,
As his estate, his perfon too was free :
Him no soft thoughts, no gratitude could move ;
To gold he fled from beauty and from love ;
Vol. VI. 24


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