• But only what my station fits, And to be kept in my right wits, Something in verse as true as prose; • Remov'd from all th' ambitious scene, 25 • Nor puff'd by pride, nor sunk by spleen.' In short, I'm perfectly content, Let me but live on this side Trent; 30 Nor cross the Channel twice a year, To spend six months with statesmen here. I must by all means come to town, "Tis for the service of the Crown. "Lewis, the Dean will be of use, "Send for him up, take no excuse. The toil, the danger of the seas; Great ministers ne'er think of these; Or let it cost five hundred pound, No matter where the money's found. It is but so much more in debt, And that they ne'er consider'd yet. "Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown, "Let my Lord know you're come to town.” I hurry me in haste away, Not thinking it is Levee-day ; And find his Honour in a pound, 35 40 45 Chequer❜d Chequer'd with ribbons blue and green : How should I thrust myself between ? Some wag observes me thus perplext, And smiling, whispers to the next, "I thought the Dean had been too proud, "To justle here among a croud." 325 50 бо I own, I'm pleas'd with this rebuke, What I desire the world should know. I get a whisper, and withdraw : When twenty fools I never saw This, humbly offers me his case— 65 70 75 "Consider Be satisfy'd, I'll do my best :- And question me of this and that; 80 85 As, "What's o'clock?" And, "How's the wind?” "Who's chariot's that we left behind ?" Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the country signs; Or, "Have you nothing new to-day "From Pope, from Parnel, or from Gay?" Such tattle often entertains 95 My Lord and me as far as Stains, As once a week we travel down To Windsor, and again to town, Because they see me us'd so well: "How think you of our friend the Dean? "I wonder what some people mean; ΙΟ 100 "My "My Lord and he are grown so great, "What, they admire him for his jokes- Faith, Sir, you know as much as I. I know no more than my Lord Mayor, THUS in a sea of folly toss'd, 105 110 115 120 125 130 And And there in sweet oblivion drown Those cares that haunt the court and town. Or when I sup, or when I dine, My friends above, my folks below, 135 140 A neighbour's madness, or his spouse's, Or what's in either of the houses: But something much more our concern, 145 And quite a scandal not to learn: Which is the happier, or the wiser, Whether we ought to chuse our friends, For their own worth, or our own ends? 150 What good, or better, we may call, |