A. Guard what you fay; the patriotic tribe Will fneer and charge you with a bribe.-B. A bribe?

The worth of his three kingdoms I defy,

To lure me to the baseness of a lie.

And, of all lies, (be that one poet's boast)
The lie that flatters I abhor the moft.

Thofe arts be their's who hate his gentle reign,
But he that loves him has no need to feign.

A. Your smooth eulogium, to one crown ad

drefs'd,

Seems to imply a censure on the rest.

B. Quevedo, as he tells his fober tale, Afk'd, when in hell, to fee the royal jail; Approv'd their method in all other things; But where, good fir, do you confine your kings? There-faid his guide-the group is full in view. Indeed ?—replied the Don-there are but few. His black interpreter the charge difdain'dFew, fellow-there are all that ever reign'd. Wit, undiftinguishing, is apt to ftrike The guilty and not guilty, both alike. I grant the farcafm is too fevere, And we can readily refute it here;

While Alfred's name, the father of his age,

And the Sixth Edward's

grace

th' hiftoric page.

A. Kings then at last have but the lot of all. By their own conduct they must stand or fall.

B. True. While they live, the courtly laureat pays
His quit-rent ode, his pepper-corn of praise;
And many a dunce, whose fingers itch to write,
Adds, as he can, his tributary mite:

A fubject's faults a fubject may proclaim,
A monarch's errors are forbidden game!
Thus, free from cenfure, over-aw'd by fear,
And prais'd for virtues that they scorn to wear,
The fleeting forms of majefty engage
Respect, while ftalking o'er life's narrow stage;
Then leave their crimes for history to scan,
And ask with busy scorn, Was this the man?
I pity kings whom worship waits upon,
Obfequious, from the cradle to the throne;
Before whofe infant eyes the flatt'rer bows,
And binds a wreath about their baby brows;
Whom education ftiffens into state,

And death awakens from that dream too late.
Oh! if fervility with supple knees,

Whofe trade it is to fiile, to crouch, to please;

If smooth diffimulation, skill'd to grace
A devil's purpose with an angel's face;
If fmiling peereffes, and fimp'ring peers,
Encompaffing his throne a few short years;
If the gilt carriage and the pamper'd steed,
That wants no driving, and disdains the lead;
If guards, mechanically form'd in ranks,
Playing, at beat of drum, their martial pranks,
Should'ring and standing as if stuck to flone,
While condefcending majefty looks on;
If monarchy confift in fuch base things,
Sighing, I fay again, I pity kings!

To be fufpected, thwarted, and withstood,
Ev'n when he labours for his country's good;
To fee a band, called patriot, for no cause,
But that they catch at popular applause,
Careless of all th' anxiety he feels,
Hook difappointment on the public wheels;
With all their flippant fluency of tongue,
Moft confident, when palpably moft wrong;
If this be kingly, then farewell for me
All kingship; and may I be poor and free!
To be the Table Talk of clubs up ftairs,
To which th' unwash'd artificer repairs,

T' indulge his genius after long fatigue,

By diving into cabinet intrigue;

(For what kings deem a toil, as well they may, To him is relaxation and mere play)

To win no praife when well-wrought plans prevail,
But to be rudely cenfur'd when they fail;

To doubt the love his fav'rites may pretend,
And in reality to find no friend;

If he indulge a cultivated taste,

His gall'ries with the works of art well grac'd,
To hear it call'd extravagance and waste;
If these attendants, and if fuch as these,
Muft follow royalty, then welcome ease;
However humble and confin'd the sphere,
Happy the ftate that has not these to fear.
A. Thus men, whose thoughts contemplative
have dwelt

On fituations that they never felt,

Start up fagacious, covered with the duft
Of dreaming ftudy and pedantic ruft,

And prate and preach about what others prove,
As if the world and they were hand and glove.
Leave kingly backs to cope with kingly cares;
They have their weight to carry, fubjects their's;

Poets, of all men, ever leaft regret

Increafing taxes and the nation's debt.

Could you contrive the payment, and rehearse
The mighty plan, oracular, in verse,

No bard, howe'er majeftic, old or new,
Should claim my fixt attention more than

you.

B. Not Brindley nor Bridgewater would effay To turn the course of Helicon that way; Nor would the nine consent the facred tide Should purl amidft the traffic of Cheapfide, Or tinkle in 'Change Alley, to amuse The leathern ears of ftock-jobbers and jews.

A. Vouchsafe, at least, to pitch the key of rhyme.
To themes more pertinent, if less sublime.
When minifters and minifterial arts;

Patriots, who love good places at their hearts;
When admirals, extoll'd for ftanding ftill,
Or doing nothing with a deal of skill;

Gen'rals, who will not conquer when they may,
Firm friends to peace, to pleasure, and good pay;
When freedom, wounded almoft to despair,

Though difcontent alone can find out where; When themes like these employ the poet's tongue, I hear as mute as if a fyren fung.