EPISTLE XIV.

TO THE MOST HONOURABLE

THE EARL OF OXFORD,

THE LORD HIGH TREASURER*.

The Epigrammatical Petition of your Lordship's moft humble Servant,

JOHN GAY.

I'M no more to converfe with the swains,
But go where fine people resort :

One can live without money on plains,

But never without it at court.

If when with the fwains I did gambol,
I array'd me in filver and blue ;

When abroad and in courts I shall ramble,

Pray, my lord, how much money will do?

*See, in Swift's Works, a letter from Mr. Gay, dated June 8, 1714. N.

ECLOGUE S.

ECLOGUES.

THE

BIRTH OF THE SQUIRE.

IN IMITATION OF THE POLLIO OF VIRGIL.

YE fylvan Mufes, loftier strains recite:

Not all in fhades and humble cots delight. Hark! the bells ring; along the diftant grounds The driving gales convey the fwelling founds; Th' attentive fwain, forgetful of his work, With gaping wonder, leans upon his fork. What fudden news alarms the waking morn? To the glad Squire a hopeful heir is born. Mourn, mourn, ye ftags, and all ye beafts of chace; This hour deftruction brings on all your race: See the pleas'd tenants duteous offerings bear, Turkeys and geese and grocers' sweetest ware; With the new health the ponderous tankard flows, And old October reddens every nofe.

Beagles

Beagles and spaniels round his cradle stand,
Kifs his moift lip, and gently lick his hand.
He joys to hear the fhrill horn's echoing founds,
And learns to lifp the names of all the hounds.
With frothy ale to make his cup o'erflow,
Barley fhall in paternal acres grow;

The bee fhall fip the fragrant dew from flowers,
To give metheglin for his morning-hours;
For him the cluflering hop fhall climb the poles,
And his own orchard fparkle in his bowls.

His Sire's exploits he now with wonder hears,
The monstrous tales indulge his greedy ears;
How, when youth ftrung his nerves and warm'd his veins,
He rode the mighty Nimrod of the plains.

He leads the ftaring infant through the hall,
Points out the horny spoils that grace the wall;

Tells, how this flag through three whole counties fled,
What rivers fwam, where bay'd, and where he bled.
Now he the wonders of the fox repeats,
Defcribes the defperate chace, and all his cheats;
How in one day, beneath his furious speed,
He tir'd feven courfers of the fleetest breed;
How high the pale he leapt, how wide the ditch,
When the hound tore the haunches of the
Thefe ftories, which defcend from son to son,

witch!

The forward boy fhall one day make his own.

The most common accident to Sportsmen, to hunt

a witch in the fhape of a hare.

Ah,

Ah, too fond mother, think the time draws nigh, That calls the darling from thy tender eye; How fhall his fpirit brook the rigid rules, And the long tyranny of grammar-schools? Let younger brothers o'er dull authors plod, Lafh'd into Latin,by the tingling rod; No, let him never feel that smart disgrace : Why should he wifer prove than all his race? When ripening youth with down o'erfhades his chin, incites to fin;

And

female every

eye

The milk-maid (thoughtlefs of her future fhame)
With fmacking lip fhall raise his guilty flame;
The dairy, barn, the hay-loft, and the grove,
Shall oft' be confcious of their ftolen love.

But think, Prifcilla, on that dreadful time,
When pangs and watery qualms fhall own thy crime,
How wilt thou tremble when thy nipple 's preft,
To fee the white drops bathe thy fwelling breaft!
Nine moons fhall publickly divulge thy fhame,
And the young Squire foreftall a father's name.
When twice twelve times the reaper's fweeping hand
With level'd harvests has beftrown the land;

On fam'd St. Hubert's feaft, his winding horn

Shall cheer the joyful hound, and wake the morn:
This memorable day his eager fpeed

Shall urge with bloody heel the rifing steed.
O check the foamy bit, nor tempt thy fate,
Think on the murders of a five-bar gate!
Yet, prodigal of life, the leap he tries,
Low in the duft his groveling honour lies,
VOL. I.

Headlong