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"Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus, Quanti me facias, &c."

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DEAR Dick, howe'er it comes into his head,

Believes as firmly as he does his creed,
That you and I, Sir, are extremely great;
Though I plain Mat, you Minifter of State :
One word from me, without all doubt, he fays,
Would fix his fortune in fome little place.
Thus better than myfelf, it feems, he knows,,
How far my intereft with my patron goes;
And, anfwering all objections I can make,
Still plunges deeper in his dear mistake.

VOL. II.

Richard Shelton Efquire.
B

From

From this wild fancy, Sir, there may proceed
One wilder yet, which I foresee and dread;
That I, in fact, a real interest have,
Which to my own advantage I would fave,
And, with the ufual courtier's trick, intend
To ferve myself, forgetful of my friend.

To fhun this cenfure, I all fhame lay by;
And make my reason with his will comply;
Hoping, for my excufe, 't will be confeft,
That of two evils I have chofe the leaft.
So, Sir, with this epiftolary fcroll,
Receive the partner of my inmoft foul :
Him you will find in letters and in laws
Not unexpert, firm to his country's cause,
Warm in the glorious intereft you pursue,
And, in one word, a good man and a true.

To Mr. HARLEY, wounded by GUISCARD, 1711.

"Ab ipfo

HOR.

Ducit opes animumque ferro."

I.

IN one great now, fuperior to an age,

The full extremes of Nature's force we find : How heavenly Virtue can exalt; or Rage Infernal how degrade the human mind.

II. While

II.

While the fierce monk does at his trial ftand;
He chews revenge, abjuring his offence:
Guile in his tongue, and murder in his hand,
He ftabs his judge, to prove his innocence.
III.

The guilty stroke and torture of the steel

Infix'd, our dauntlefs Briton fcarce perceives : The wounds his country from his death muft feel, The Patriot views; for thofe alone he grieves.

IV.

The barbarous rage that durft attempt thy life,
Harley, great counfellor, extends thy fame :
And the fharp point of cruel Guifcard's knife,
In brass and marble carves thy deathlefs name.
V.

Faithful affertor of thy country's caufe,

Britain with tears fhall bathe thy glorious wound

She for thy fafety fhall enlarge her laws;

And in her ftatutes shall thy worth be found.
VI.

Yet 'midft her fighs the triumphs, on the hand
Reflecting, that diffus'd the public woe;

A ftranger to her altars, and her land:

No fon of her's could meditate this blow.

VII.

Mean time thy pain is gracious Anna's care:
Our Queen, our Saint, with facrificing breath
Softens thy anguifh: in her powerful prayer
She pleads thy fervice, and forbids thy death.

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VIII.

Great as thou art, thou canst demand no more,

O breaft bewail'd by earth: preferv'd by Heaven! No higher can aspiring Virtue foar: Enough to thee of grief and fame is given.

AN EXTEMPORE INVITATION

TO THE

Earl of OXFORD, Lord High Treasurer, 1712.

MY LORD,

OU

UR weekly friends to-morrow meet
At Matthew's palące, in Duke-street,

To try for once if they can dine
On bacon-ham and mutton-chine :

If, weary'd with the great affairs
Which Britain trufts to Harley's cares,
Thou, humble statesman, may'st descend,
Thy mind one moment to unbend;
To fee thy fervant from his foul

Crown with thy health the fprightly bowl:
Among the guests which e'er my house
Receiv'd, it never can produce
Of honour a more glorious proof -
Though Dorset us'd to blefs the roof.

ERLE

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