O WRETCHED B[ritian], jealous now of all, | |
| What God, what Mortal shall prevent thy fall? | |
| Turn, turn thy eyes from wicked men in place, | |
| And see what succour from the patriot race. | |
| C[ampbell], his own proud dupe, thinks Monarchs things | 5 |
| Made just for him, as other fools for Kings; | |
| Controls, decides, insults thee ev’ry hour, | |
| And antedates the hatred due to power. | |
| Thro’ clouds of passion P[ulteney]’s views are clear; | |
| He foams a Patriot to subside a Peer; | 10 |
| Impatient sees his country bought and sold, | |
| And damns the market where he takes no gold. | |
| Grave, righteous S[andys] jogs on till, past belief, | |
| He finds himself companion with a thief. | |
| To purge and let thee blood with fire and sword | 15 |
| Is all the help stern S[hippen] would afford. | |
| That those who bind and rob thee would not kill, | |
| Good C[ornbury] hopes, and candidly sits still. | |
| Of Ch[arle]s W[illiams] who speaks at all? | |
| No more than of Sir Har[r]y or Sir P[aul]: | 20 |
| Whose names once up, they thought it was not wrong | |
| To lie in bed, but sure they lay too long. | |
| G[owe]r, C[obha]m, B[athurs]t, pay thee due regards. | |
| Unless the ladies bid them mind their cards. with wit that must | |
| And C[hesterfiel]d who speaks so well and writes, | 25 |
| Whom (saving W.) every S[harper bites,] must needs | |
| Whose wit and … equally provoke one, | |
| Finds thee, at best, the butt to crack his joke on. | |
| As for the rest, each winter up they run, | |
| And all are clear, that something must be done. | 30 |
| Then urged by C[artere]t, or by C[artere]t stopp’d, | |
| Inflamed by P[ultene]y, and by P[ultene]y dropp’d; | |
| They follow rev’rently each wondrous wight, | |
| Amazed that one can read, that one can write | |
| (So geese to gander prone obedience keep, | 35 |
| Hiss if he hiss, and if he slumber, sleep); | |
| Till having done whate’er was fit or fine, | |
| Utter’d a speech, and ask’d their friends to dine, | |
| Each hurries back to his paternal ground, | |
| Content but for five shillings in the pound, | 40 |
| Yearly defeated, yearly hopes they give, | |
| And all agree Sir Robert cannot live. | |
| Rise, rise, great W[alpole], fated to appear, | |
| Spite of thyself a glorious minister! | |
| Speak the loud language princes … | 45 |
| And treat with half the … | |
| At length to B[ritain] kind, as to thy … | |
| Espouse the nation, you … | |
| What can thy H[orace] … | |
| Dress in Dutch … | 50 |
| Though still he travels on no bad pretence, | |
| To show … | |
| Or those foul copies of thy face and tongue, | |
| Veracious W[innington] and frontless Yonge; | |
| Sagacious Bub, so late a friend, and there | 55 |
| So late a foe, yet more sagacious H[are]? | |
| Hervey and Hervey’s school, F[ox], H[enle]y, H[into]n, | |
| Yea, moral Ebor, or religious Winton. | |
| How! what can O[nslo]w, what can D[elaware], | |
| The wisdom of the one and other chair, | 60 |
| N[ewcastle] laugh, or D[orset]’s sager [sneer], | |
| Or thy dread truncheon M[arlboro]’s mighty Peer? | |
| What help from J[ekyl]l’s opiates canst thou draw | |
| Or H[ardwic]k’s quibbles voted into law? | |
| C[ummins], that Roman in his nose alone, | 65 |
| Who hears all causes, B[ritain], but thy own, | |
| Or those proud fools whom nature, rank, and fate | |
| Made fit companions for the sword of state. | |
| Can the light Packhorse, or the heavy Steer, | |
| The sowzing Prelate, or the sweating Peer, | 70 |
| Drag out with all its dirt and all its weight, | |
| The lumb’ring carriage of thy broken state? | |
| Alas! the people curse, the carman swears, | |
| The drivers quarrel, and the master stares. | |
| The plague is on thee, Britain, and who tries | 75 |
| To save thee, in th’ infectious office dies. | |
| The first firm P[ultene]y soon resign’d his breath, | |
| Brave S[carboro] loved thee, and was lied to death. | |
| Good M[arch]m[on]t’s fate tore P[olwar]th from thy side, | |
| And thy last sigh was heard when W[yndha]m died. | 80 |
| Thy nobles sl[ave]s, thy se[nate]s bought with gold, | |
| Thy clergy perjured, thy whole people sold, | |
| An atheist [symbol], a [symbol]’s ad ……… | |
| Blotch thee all o’er, and sink …… | |
| Alas! on one alone our all relies, | 85 |
| Let him be honest, and he must be wise. | |
| Let him no trifler from his … school, | |
| Nor like his ……… still a.… | |
| Be but a man! unminister’d, alone, | |
| And free at once the Senate and the Throne; | 90 |
| Esteem the public love his best supply, | |
| A [symbol]’s true glory his integrity; | |
| Rich with his …… in his …… strong, | |
| Affect no conquest, but endure no wrong. | |
| Whatever his religion or his blood, | 95 |
| His public Virtue makes his title good. | |
| Europe’s just balance and our own may stand, | |
| And one man’s honesty redeem the land. | |
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