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; I'll hire another's; is not that my own, And yours, my friends? through whose free op'ning gate 155 160 None comes too early, none departs too late; Well, if the use be mine, can it concern one, 165 170 Who cries, "My father's damn'd, and all's my own." Shades VER. 152. double tax'd,] An additional tax was laid on the estates of papists and nonjurors. Shades, that to BACON could retreat afford, And Hemsley, once proud Buckingham's delight, Let lands and houses have what lords they will, 175 180 VER. 175. that to BACON could] Gorhambury, near St. Alban's, a fine and venerable old mansion. VER. 177. proud Buckingham's, c.] Villiers Duke of Buckingham. THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. TO LORD BOLINGBROKE. ST. JOHN, whose love indulg'd my labours past, Our Gen❜rals now, retir'd to their estates, 5 II Nor fond of bleeding, ev'n in BRUNSWICK's cause. A voice there is, that whispers in my ear, ('Tis reason's voice, which sometimes one can hear,) "Friend Pope! be prudent, let your muse take "And never gallop Pegasus to death; [breath, "Lest stiff, and stately, void of fire or force, 15 "You limp, like Blackmore on a Lord Mayor's "horse." Farewell VER. 3. Sabbath of my days ?] 1. e. The 49th year, the age of the author. Farewell then verse, and love, and ev'ry toy, To lay this harvest up, and hoard with haste But ask not, to what doctors I apply? Sworn to no master, of no sect am I: As drives the storm, at any door I knock: 20 25 And house with Montagne now, or now with Locke. Sometimes a patriot, active in debate, Mix with the world, and battle for the state, Free as young Lyttelton, her cause pursue, Still true to virtue, and as warm as true : Sometimes with Aristippus, or St. Paul, Indulge my candor, and grow all to all; 30 And win my way by yielding to the tide. 34 Long, as to him who works for debt, the day, Long as the night to her whose love's away, Long as the year's dull circle seems to run, my soul; That lock all the functions of 40 That VER. 29. Free as young Lyttelton,] Afterwards the celebrated Lord Lyttelton. That task, which as we follow, or despise, 45 50 Which done, the poorest can no wants endure; 55 60 Know, there are rhymes, which fresh and fresh apply'd A Switz, a High-Dutch, or a Low-Dutch bear; 'Tis the first virtue, vices to abhor; And the first wisdom, to be fool no more. 65 70 See |