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Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her

mind, Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. And " who stands fafest ? tell me, is it he 125 That spreads and swells in puffd Prosperity, Or bleft with little, whose preventing care In

peace provides fit arms against a war ? Thus BETHEL spoke, who always speaks his

thought, And always thinks the very thing he ought:130 His equal mind I copy

what I can,
And as I love, would imitate the Man.
In South-sea days not happier, when surmis'd
The Lord of Thousands, than if now wExcis’d;
In forest planted by a Father's hand,

135
Than in five acres now of rented land.
Content with little I can piddle here
On brocoli and mutton, round the year;

NOTES.

whịch oblique Panegyric the Imitator has very properly turned into a just stroke of satire.

Ver. 133. In South-fea days not happier, etc.] Mr. Pope had South-sea stock, which he did not fell out. It was valued at between twenty and thirty thousand pounds when it fell.

Ac mihi seu " longum poft tempus venerat hofpes,

Sive operum vacuo gratus conviva per imbrem

Vicinus; bene erat, non piscibus urbe petitis,

Sed pullo atque boedo: tum’ penfilis uva secundas

Et nux ornabat menfas, cum duplice ficu.

Poft hoc ludus erat cuppa potare magistra:

.Ac venerata Ceres, ita culmo surgeret alto,

Explicuit vino contractac feria frontis.

Saeviat atque novos moveat Fortuna tumultus!

Quantum hinc imminuet ? quanto aut ego parcius,

aut vos,

O pueri, nituistis, ut huc novus incola venit?

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VER.150. And, what's more rare, a Poet fall say Grace.] The pleasantry of this line consists in the supposed rarity of a Poet's having a table of his own; or a sense of gratitude for the blef

own:

But y ancient friends (tho' poor, or out of play)
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away. 140
'Tis true, no? Turbots dignify my boards,
But gudgeons, founders, what my Thames affords:
To Hounslow-heath I point and Banfted-down,
Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my

144 * From yon old walnut-tree a show'r shall fall; And grapes, long ling’ring on my only wall, And figs from standard and espalier join ; The dev’l is in

you

if

you cannot dine: Thenbсhearfulhealths(your Mistressshall haveplace) And, what's more rare, a Poet shall say Grace. 150

Fortune not much of humbling me can boast: Tho' double tax'd, how little have I lost? My Life's amusements have been just the same, Before, and after Standing Armies came. My lands are sold, my

father's house is gone; 155 I'll hire another's; is not that my own, And yours, myfriends? thro’whose free-op'ning gate None comes too early, none departs too late;

Notes. fings he receives. But it contains, too, a sober reproof of People of Condition, for their unmanly and brutal disuse of so natural a duty.

Nam propriae telluris herum natura neque illum,

Nec me, nec quemquam ftatuit. nos expulit ille;

Illum aut. nequities aut f vafri inscitia juris,

Poftremum expellet certe 8 vivacior heres.

"Nunc ager Umbreni fub nomine, nuper Ofelli

Dictus erat: nulli proprius ; fed cedit in usum

NOTES. Ver. 165. Well

, if the use be mine, etc.) In a letter to this Mr. Bethel, of March 20, 1743, he says, “ My Landlady, Mrs. Vernon, being dead, this Garden and House are offered me “ in fale ; and, I believe (together with the cottages on each “ side my grass-plot next the Thames) will come at about a “ thousand pounds. If I thought any very particular friend “ would be pleased to live in it after my death (for, as it is, it " ferves all my purposes as well during life) I would purchase “ it; and more particularly could I hope two Things, That

(For I, who hold fage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.)160

Pray heav'n it last! (cries Swift!) as you go on; “ I wish to God this house had been your own:

Pity! to build, without a fon or wife:

Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life.” Well, if the use be mine, can it concern one, 165 Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon? What's d Property? dear Swift! you see it alter From

you to me, from me to · Peter Walter; Or, in a mortgage, prove a Lawyer's share; Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir ; 170 Or in pure equity (the case not clear) The Chanc'ry takes your rents for twenty year : At best, it falls to some & ungracious son, Who cries, “My father's damn’d, and all's my own. Shades, that to Bacon could retreat afford, 175 Become the portion of a booby Lord;

Notes. " the Friend who should like it, was so much younger and “ healthier than myself, as to have a prospect of its continuing “ his fome years longer than I can of its continuing mine. “ But most of those I love are travelling out of the world, not « into it; and unless I have such a view given me, I have no “ vanity nor pleasure that does not stop short of the Grave.”So that we fee, what some of his Friends would not believe, his thoughts in prose and verse were the same.

Ver. 170. Or, in a jointure, vanish from the heir ;] The ex

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