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Now hey for Down-hall! for the guide he was got;
O thou Popish Guide, thou haft led us aftray.
Thy Wife, anfwer'd Matthew, when she went abroad, Ne'er told thee of half the by-ways she had trod : Perhaps the met friends, and brought pence to thy house, But thou shalt go home without ever a fouse.
What is this thing, Morley, and how can you mean it? We have loft our estate here, before we have seen it. Have patience, foft Morley in anger reply'd : To find out our way, let us fend off our guide.
O here I fpy Down,, caft your eye to the Weft, Where a Wind-mill so stately stands plainly confeft. On the Weft, reply'd Matthew, no Windmill I find : As well thou may'ft tell me, I fee the Weft-wind.
Now pardon me, Morley, the Wind-mill I spy,
O, now a low ruin'd white Shed I difcern,
A House should be built, or with brick, or with ftone. Why 'tis plafter and lath; and I think that's all one; And fuch as it is, it has ftood with great fame, Been called a Hall, and has given its name
To Down, down, hey derry down.
O Morley! O Morley! if that be a Hall, The fame with the building will fuddenly fall— With your friend Jemmy Gibbs about buildings agree; My business is land; and it matters not me.
I wish you could tell what a duce your head ails: I fhew'd you Down-Hall; did you look for Versailles? Then take house and farm as John Ballet will let you, For better for worse, as I took my Dame Betty.
And now, Sir, a word to the wife is enough; You'll make very little of all your old stuff:
And to build at your age, by my troth, you grow fimple! Are you young and rich, like the Master of Wimple *?
If you have thefe whims of apartments and gardens, From twice fifty acres you'll ne'er see five farthings And in your's I fhall find the true gentleman's fate; Ere you finish your house, you 'll have spent your
Now let us touch thumbs, and be friends ere we part. Here, John, is my thumb. And, here, Mat, is my Heart. To Halftead I fpeed; and you go back to town. Thus ends the Firft Part of the Ballad of Down.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.
*Edward Earl of Oxford.
VER SE $
Lady HENRIETTA-CAVENDISH-HOLLES HARLEY, Countefs of OXFORD.
In the LIBRARY of ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, Cambridge. November 9, 1719.
INCE Anna vifited the Mufes' feat
(Around her tomb let weeping Angels wait!) Hail Thou, the brighteft of thy fex, and best,
Most gracious neighbour *, and most welcome gucft. Not Harley's felf, to Cam and Ifis dear,
In virtues and in arts great Oxford's heir;
Not He fuch present honour shall receive,
Writings of men our thoughts to-day neglects,
Plato and Tully we forbear to read,
And their great followers whom this houfe has bred,
*The Family Seat was then at Wimple,
For, when with Beauty we can Virtue join,
Their pious incenfe let our neighbours bring,
Your eyes we bless, your praises we proclaim,
In fpite of time, we keep our antient vow;
to the ORPHAN,
Represented by fome of the Weftminster Scholars, at HICKFORD's Dancing-room, February 2, 1720. Spoken by Lord DUPPLIN, who acted CORDELIO the Page.
WHAT! would my humble comrades have me fay,
Gentle Spectators, pray excufe the play?
Such work by hireling actors fhould be done,
* Sir T. White, Founder of St. John's College, Oxon. + Archbishop Laud alfo was a generous benefactor. A few lines of this Prologue occur in another; which is printed in vol. 1. p. 74.
Our generous scenes for friendship we repeat;
Shall we procure you fymphony and found?
True Britons born; from Westminster we come;
H! with what woes am I oppreft!
W. Be ftill, you fenfelefs calf!
What if the Gods fhould make you bleft?