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And thus, fair maids, my ballad ends;

God fend the king fafe landing*; And make all honeft ladies friends

To armies that are standing; Preferve the limits of thofe nations, And take off ladies limitations.

With a fa, la, la.


This Ballad was written anno 1717.


NOTWITHSTANDING Pope's affected contempt of the Court, he was proud of the acquaintance of fome of the beautiful young women belonging to it.

In 1776 were publifhed, two fmall volumes, intitled, Additions to Pope's Work. Warton has filently adopted all the notes, and the information that the Turk, alluded to in the first stanza, was little Ulrick." Are we to infer that Warton was the editor of the two volumes I have mentioned?

The Ladies mentioned in this Ballad, Pope speaks of in a letter: "I met the Prince, with all his Ladies on horfeback, coming/ from hunting.

"Mrs. B-(Bellenden) and Mrs. L-(Lepell) took me into protection (contrary to the law against harbouring Papists), and gave me a dinner." Letters to feveral Ladies.

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F gentle Philips will I ever fing,

With gentle Philips fhall the vallies ring.
My numbers too for ever will I vary,
With gentle Budgell, and with gentle Carey.
Or if in ranging of the names I judge ill,
With gentle Carey and with gentle Budgell,
Oh! may all gentle bards together place ye,
Men of good hearts, and men of delicacy.
May fatire ne'er befool ye, or beknave ye,
And from all wits that have a knack, God fave ye. 10

VER. 1. Philips]
VER. 4. Budgell,]
VER. 4. Carey,]



Ambrofe Philips.
Euftace Budgell.
Henry Carey.

VER. 10. And from all wits that have a knack,] Curl faid, that inprofe he was equal to Pope, but that in verfe Pope had merely a particular knack.


A Copy of Verfes, written by Mr. GAY upon Mr. POPE'S baving finifhed his Tranflation of HOMER'S ILIAD.

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ONG haft thou, friend! been abfent from thy foil,
Like patient Ithacus at fiege of Troy;
I have been witnefs of thy fix years toil,

Thy daily labours, and thy night's annoy, Loft to thy native land, with great turmoil,

On the wide fea, oft threat'ning to destroy: Methinks with thee I've trod Sigæan ground, And heard the fhores of Hellefpont refound.


Did I not fee thee when thou firft fett'ft fail
To feek adventures fair in Homer's land? -
Did I not fee thy finking fpirits fail,

And wish thy bark had never left the frand?
Ev'n in mid ocean often didft thou quail,

And oft lift up thy holy eye and hand, Praying the Virgin dear, and faintly choir, Back to the port to bring thy bark entire.

Chear up, my friend, thy dangers now are o'er;
Methinks-nay, fure the rifing coals appear;
Hark how the guns falute from either shore,
As thy trim veffel cuts the Thames fo fair






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Shouts anfw'ring fhouts, from Kent and Effex roar,

And bells break loud thro' every gust of air: Bonfires do blaze, and bones and cleavers ring, As at the coming of fome mighty king.


Now pass we Gravesend with a friendly wind, 25
And Tilbury's white fort, and long Blackwall;
Greenwich, where dwells the friend of human kind,
More vifited than either park or hall,
Withers the good, and (with him ever join'd)
Facetious Disney, greet thee first of all:
I see his chimney fmoke, and hear him fay,
Duke! that's the room for Pope, and that for Gay.


Come in, my friends, here fhall ye dine and lie,
And here fhall breakfast, and here dine again;
And fup, and breakfast on, (if ye comply)

For I have still fome dozens of champaign:
His voice ftill leffens as the fhip fails by ;

He waves his hand to bring us back in vain ; For now I fee, I fee proud London's fpires; Greenwich is loft, and Deptford dock retires.





VI. Oh,

VER. 29. Withers the good,] There is fomething highly pleafing in these tranfient touches of portraits and character, and in the minute defcriptive circumftances of scenery. Withers is the fame on whom Pope wrote the Epitaph.

VER. 30. Facetious Difney,] He is called by Lady Mary Mon. tagu, "Duke Difney ;" alfo in the Letters of Pope, &e. "Poor Duke Difncy is dead."

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Oh, what a concourse fwarms on yonder key!

The sky re-echoes with new shouts of joy : By all this show, I ween, 'tis Lord May❜rs day; I hear the voice of trumpet and hautboy.No, now I fee them near-oh, these are they


Who come in crowds to welcome thee from Troy. Hail to the bard whom long as loft we mourn'd, From fiege, from battle, and from storm return'd!


Of goodly dames, and courteous knights, I view 50 The filken petticoat, and broider'd vest;

Yea Peers, and mighty Dukes, with ribbands blue, (True blue, fair emblem of unftained breast.) Others I fee, as noble, and more true,

By no court-badge distinguish'd from the rest: 55 First fee I Methuen, of fincerest mind, grave, as foft as woman kind.

As Arthur

What lady's that, to whom he gently bends?

Who knows not her? ah! thofe are Wortley's eyes? How art thou honour'd, number'd with her friends: For fhe distinguishes the good and wife.




VER. 57. As Arthur grave, &c.] This perfon is mentioned in the Epiftle to Arbuthnot, v. 23.:

"Arthur, whofe giddy fon neglects the laws,
Imputes to me, and my damn'd works, the caufe!"


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