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Adieu to all but Gay alone,
Whose soul, sincere and free,
SINCE my old friend is grown so great,
I'm told (but 'tis not true, I hope)
Alas! if I am such a creature,
To grow the worse for growing greater;
Engraved on the Collar of a Dog, which I gave to his
I AM his Highness' dog at Kew:
Occasioned by an Invitation to Court.
IN the lines that you sent are the muses and graces; You've the nine in your wit, and the three in your faces.
ON AN OLD GATE,
Erected in Chiswick Gardens.
O GATE, how cam'st thou here?
Gate. I was brought from Chelsea last year,
Sir Hans Sloane
Let me alone:
Burlington brought me hither.
WHAT are the falling rills, the pendent shades,
To sigh unheard in, to the passing wind!
VERSES LEFT BY MR. POPE,
On his lying in the same Bed which Wilmot, the celebrated Earl of Rochester, slept in, at Adderbury, then belonging to the Duke of Argyle, July 9th, 1739.
WITH no poetic ardour fired
I press'd the bed where Wilmot lay;
But in thy roof, Argyle, are bred
Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Such flames as high in patriots burn,
VERSES TO MR. C.
St. James's Place, London, October 22. FEW words are best; I wish you well; Bethel, I'm told, will soon be here: Some morning-walks along the Mall,
And evening friends, will end the year.
If, in this interval, between
The falling leaf and coming frost, You please to see, on Twit'nam green,
Your friend, your poet, and your host;
For three whole days you here may rest,
From office, business, news, and strife; And (what most folks would think a jest) Want nothing else, except your wife.
His saltem accumulem donis, et tungar inani
ON CHARLES EARL OF DORSET,
DORSET, the grace of courts, the Muses' pride,
Bless'd satirist! who touch'd the mean so true,
Bless'd courtier! who could king and country please,
Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine,
ON SIR WILLIAM TRUMBULL,
One of the principal Secretaries of State to King William the Third, who, having resigned his Place, died in his Retirement at Easthamsted, in Berkshire, 171 6.
A PLEASING form; a firm, yet cautious mind;
Such this man was; who now from earth removed,
ON THE HON. SIMON HARCOURT,
Only Son of the Lord Chancellor Harcourt, at the Church of Stanton-Harcourt, in Oxfordshire, 1720.
To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near;
How vain is reason, eloquence how weak!
ON JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ.
In Westminster Abbey.
REGI MAGNE BRITANNIE A SECRETIS
VIXIT, TITULIS ET INVIDIA MAJOR,
OB. FEB. XVI. MDCCXX.
STATESMAN, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
Praised, wept, and honour'd, by the muse he loved.
INTENDED FOR MR. ROWE.
In Westminster Abbey.
THY reliques, Rowe, to this fair urn we trust,
ON MRS. CORBET,
Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.