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His spacious sword, to a large wallet strung, She seiz'd a pendant garter and began
And gather'd double lustre from the throne, A joy prophetic until then unkuown
With native dignity he filld the stall, Assur'd him all he view'd would be his own. The wonder, jest, and enmity of all. New scenes of pleasure recreate his sight,
Not yet content with honorary grace He views the fertile meadows with delight, The sybil, busy for the sweets of place, Still in soliloquy he prais'd the view,
Kick'd out a minister, the people's pride, Nor more was pleas'd with future scenes at Kew, And lifted Sawney in his place to guide. His wonder broke in murmurs from his tongue, The leader of the treasury he rose, No more the praise of Highland hills he sung, Whilst Fate mark'd down the nation's future Till now a stranger to the cheerful green,
woes. Where springing flowers diversify the scene, Mad with ambition, his imperious hand The lofty elm, the oak of lordly look,
Scatter'd oppression thro' a groaning land, The willow shadowing the bubbling brook, Still taxes followed taxes, grants supplies, The hedges blooming with the sweets of May With ev'ry ill resulting from excise. With double pleasure mark'd his gladsome way. Not satisfied with this unjust increase, Having thro' varying rural prospects past, He struck a bolder stroke and sold the peace. He reach'd the great metropolis at last.
The Gallic millions so convinced his mind Here Fate beheld him as he trudg'd the street, On honourable terms the treaty's sign'd. Bare was his buttocks and unsbod his feet,
But who his private character can blame, A lengthening train of boys displayed him great, Or brand his titles with a villain's name. He seem'd already minister of state.
Upon an estimation of the gains The Carlton sybil saw his graceful mien,
He stoop'd beneath himself to take the reins, And straight forgot her hopes of being qucen. A good economist, he serv'd the crown
And made his master's interest his own, She sigh’d, she wish'd, swift virtuous Chudleigh flew His starving friends and countrymen apply'd, To bring the Caledonian swain to Kew,
To share the ministry, assist to guide, Then introduced him to her secret cell;
Nor ask'd in vain :-his charitable hand What further can the modest numbers tell? Made plenty smile in Scotland's barren land,
Her wandering sons for poverty renown'd None rid the broomstaff with so good a grace,
Places and pensions, bribes or titles found.
Far from the south was humble merit fied
And on the northern mountains rear'd her head, How to reward his merit as she ought,
And genius having rang'd beyond the Tweed Resolved to make him greatest of the great
Sat brooding upon bards who could not read, She led him to her hidden cave of state,
Whilst courage boasting of his Highland might There spurs and coronets were placed around
Mentions not Culloden's inglorious fight. And privy seals were scatter'd on the ground,
But whilst his lordship fills the honour'd stall Here piles of honorary truncheons lay
Ample provision satisfies them all. And gleaming stars - 3 artificial day,
The genius sings his praise, the soldier swearg With mystic rods whose magic power is such
To mutilate each murm'ring caitiff's ears,
The father of his country they adore,
And live in elegance unknown before.
swarm of planetary statesmen roll'd, No statesman shall be titulary great,
Tho' some have since as ministers been known None shall obtain an office in the state
They shone with borrow'd lustre, not their own.
In ev'ry revolution day and night
From Bute they caught each particle of light,
He destin'd out the circles they fulfil,
Hung on the bulky nothing of his will,
How shall I brand with infamy a name
Which bids defiance to all sense of shame? Your starving countrymen shall drink the rain,
How shall I touch his iron soul with pain, But hither hasting on their naked feet
Who hears unmov'd a multitude complain? Procure a place, forget themselves, and eat. No southern patriot shall oppose my will,
A multitude made wretched by his hand,
The common curse and nuisance of the land. If not my look, my treasurer can kill,
Holland, of thee I sing: infernal wretcb,
Say, can thy power of mischief further stretch?
Is there no other army to be sold,
No town to be destroy'd for bribes and gold? But this forestalls futurity and fate,
Or wilt thou rather sit contented down,
And starve the subject to enrich the crown? I'll chuse the present hour to make thee great.” He bow'd submission, and with eager view
That when the treasury can boast supplies
Thy pilfering genius may have exercise,
Wbilst unaccounted millions pay thy toil
Thou art secure if Bute divides the spoil.
Catching his influence from the best of kings, Swift hurry and confusion wild began
Errour, his secretary, lent his aid
To underinine each plot his cunning laid; Distinguish'd robber of the public, say,
He wrote dispatches in his grace's name, What urg'd thy timid spirit's hasty way? And ruin'd every project North could frame. She in the protection of a king,
Yet as he blunderd thro' the lengthen'd night Did recollection paint the fate of Byng?
He seriously protested all was right. Did conscience bold that mirror to thy sight, Since dissipation is thy only joy, Or Aylyffe's ghost accompany thy flight? Go, Grafton, join the dance and act the boy; Is Bute more powerful than the sceptred hand, 'Tis not for fops in cabinets to shine, Or art thou safer in a foreign land?
And justice niust confess that title's thine. In vain the scene relinquish'd now you grieve, Dress to excess and powder into fame, Cursing the moment you were forced to leave In drums and hurricanes exalt your name. Thy ruins on the isle of Thanet built,
There you may glitter, there your worth may The fruits of plunder, villany and guilt.
Above the little reach of vulgar eyes. When you presume on English ground to tread, But in the high departments of the state Justice will lift her weapon at your head.
Your talents are too trilling to be great. Contented with the author of your state,
There all your imperfections rise to view, Maintain the conversation of the great.
Not Sandwich so contemptible as you. Be busy in confederacy and plot,
Bute from the summit of his power descry'd And settle what shall be on what is not,
Your glaring inability to guide, Display the statesman in some wild design, And mustering every rascal in his gang, Foretell when North will tumble and resign, Who might for merit all together hang, How long the busy Sandwich, mad for rule, From the black catalogue and worthy crew, Will lose his labour and remain a fool.
The jesuitical and scheming few, But your accounts, the subject of debate,
Selected by the leader of the clan, Are sunk beneath the notice of the great,
Received instructions for their future plan, Let brib’d exchequer tellers find 'em just,
And after proper adoration paid While on the penalty of place they must, Were to their destin'd sphere of state convey'd, Before you're seen your honesty is clear,
To shine the minister's satellites, And all will evidently right appear.
Collect his light, and give his lordship ease, When as a minister you had your day,
Reform his crooked politics and draw
Settle his erring revolutions right,
Alas! the force of Scottish pride is such,
These mushrooms of a day presum'd too much. Your system of oppression testify'd
Conscious of cunning and superior arts None but the conscientious Fox could guide. They scorn'd the minister's too trilling parts, As Bute is fix'd eternal in his sphere
Grafton resents a treatment so unjust, And ministers revolve around in air,
And damns the Carlton sybil's fiery lust, Your infamy with such a lasting ray
By which a scoundrel Scot opprest the realm, Glow'd thro' your orb in one continued day, And rogues below contempt disgrac'd the helin. Still ablest politicians hold dispute,
Swift scandal caught the accents as they feil, Whether you gave, or borrow'd light from Bute. And bore them to the sybil's secret cell. Lost in the blaze of his superior parts,
Enrag'd she wing'd a messenger to Bute, We often have descry'd your little arts.
Some minister more able to depute; But at a proper distance from his sphere
Her character and virtue was a jest, We saw the little villain disappear,
Whilst Grafton was of useless power possest. When drest in titles, the burlesque of place This done, her just desire of vengeance warın, A more illustrious rascal show'd his face,
She gave him notice of the bursting storm; Your destin'd sphere of ministry now run,
Timid and dubious Grafton faced about, You dropt like others in the parent Sun,
And trembled at the thoughts of being out. There as a spot you purpose to remain,
But as no laws the sybil's power confin'd, And seek protection in the sybil's swain.
He drop'd his blushing honours and resign'd. Grafton his planetary life began,
Step forward, North! and let the doubtful sec Tho' foreign to the system of the clan,
Wonders and miracles reviv'd in thee. Slowly he rollid around the fount of light,
Did not the living witness haunt the court, Long was his day, but longer was his night. What ear had given faith to my report? Irregular, unequal in his course,
Amidst the rout of ministerial slaves Now languid he revolves, now rolls with force, Rogues who want genius to refine to knaves, His scarce-collected light obliquely hurld Who could imagine that the wretch more base Was scatter'd ere it reach'd his frozen world, Should fill the highest infamy of place? Thro' all his under offices of place,
That North the vile domestic of a peer, All had conspir'd to represent his grace,
Whose name an Englishman detests to hear, Lifeless and dull the wheels of state were drivin, Should leave his trivial share of Bedford's gaiss, Slow as a courtier on his road to Heaven,
Become a minister and take the reins, If expedition urg'd the dull machine
And from the meanest of the gang ascend He knew so little of the golden mean,
Above his worthy governor and friend?
This wond'rous metamorphose of an hour, Whilst the rogues out revile the rascals in, Sufficiently evinced the sybil's power,
Repeat the prorerb, “ let those laugh that win:* To ruin nations, little rogues to raise,
Fleeting and transitory is the date A virtue supernatural displays,
Of sublunary ministers of state, What but a power infernal or divine
Then whilst thy summer lasts, prepare the bay, Could honour North, or make his grace resign. Nor trust to autumn and a future day. Some superficial politicians tell
I leave thee now, but with intent to trace When Grafton from his giided turret fell,
The villains and the honest med of place. The sybil substituted North a blank,
The first are still assisting in thy train A mustered faggot to complete the rank,
To aid the pillage and divide the gain. Without the distant thought that such a tool The last of known integrity of mind Would change its being and aspire to rule: Forsook a venal party and resign'd. But such the humble North's indulgent fate,
Come Satire! aid me to display the first, When striding in the saddle of the state
Of every honest Englishman accurst, He caught by inspiration statesmanship,
Come Truth, assist me to prepare the lays, And drove the slow machine and smack'd his whip; Where worth demands, and give the latter praise Whilst Bedford wondering at his sudden skill Ingenious Sandwich, whither dost thou fly With reverence view'd the packhorse of his will. To shun the censure of the public eye? His majesty (the buttons thrown aside)
Dost thou want matter for another speech, Declar'd his fix'd intention to preside.
Or other works of genius to impeach? No longer sacrificed to every knave
Or would thy insignificance and pride He'd show hiniself discreet as well as brave; Presume above thyself and seek to guide? In every cabinet and council cause
Pursue thy ignis-fatuus of power, He'd be dictator and enforce the laws.
And call to thy assistance virtuous Gower, Whilst North should in his present office stand Set Rigby's happy countenance in play, As understrapper to direct his hand.
To vindicate whatever you can say. Now Expectation, now extend thy wing! Then when you totter into place and fame, Happy the land whose minister's a king,
With double infamy you brand your name, Happy the king who ruling each debate
Say, Sandwich, in the winter of your date, Can peep through every roguery of state.
Can you ascend the hobby-horse of state, See Hope arrayed in robes of virgin white, Do titles echo grateful in your ear, Trailing an arch'd variety of light,
Or is it mockery to call you peer? Comes showering blessings on a ruin'd realm,
In siiver'd age to play the fool, And show's the crown'd director of the helm. And with rascals infamous a tool; Retorn, fair goudess, till some future day; Plainly denote your judgment is no more, The king has seen the errour of his way;
Your honour was extinguish'd long before. And by his smarting shoulders seems to feel Say, if reflection ever blest thy mind, The wheel of state is not a Catharine wheel. Hast thou one real friend among mankind? Wise by experience, general nurse of fools, 'Thou hadst one once, free, generous and sincere, He leaves the ministry to venal tools,
Too good a senator for such a peer, And finds his happy talents better suit
Him thou hast offer'd as a sacrifice The making buttons for his favourite Bute, To lewdness, iminorality and vice, In countenancing the unlawful views
scoundrel set the gin, Which North, the delegate of Bute, pursues, And friendship was the bait to draw him in. In glossing with authority a train
What honourable villain could they find
Tho' intimacy seem'd to stop the way,
You they employ'd to tempt him and betray View'd from one point, how glorious art thou seen, Full well you executed their commands, From others, how degenerate and mean.
Well you deserv'd the pension at their hands. A seraph or an idiot's head we see:
For you in hours of tribing he compiled Oft on the latter stands the type of thee,
A dissertation blasphemous and wild. And bowing at his parent's knee is drest
Be it recorded too, at your desire, lo a long hood of many-colourd vest.
He called for demons to assist his lyre, The sceptred king who dignifies a throne, Relying on your friendship soon be found Should be in private life hiinself alone.
How dangerous the support of rotten ground. No friend or mother should his conscience scan, In your infernal attributes array'd, Or with the nation's head confound the man. You seiz'd the wish'd-for pcem and betrard. I ke juggling Melchi Zadok's priestish plea, Hail mighty Twitcher! can my feeble line Collected in himself a king should be.
Give due reward to merit such as thine? But truths may be unwelcome, and the lay Not Churchill's keenest satire ever reach'd Which shall to royal ears such truths convey, The conscience of the rascal who impeachd, The conflagrations of the hangman's ire
My feeble punbers and untutor'd lay May roast and execute with foreign fire.
On such an harden'd wretch is thrown away The Muse who values safety shall return, I leave thee to the impotent delight And sing of subjects where she cannot burn. Of visiting the harlots of the night, Continue North thy vile burlesque of power, Go hear thy nightingale's enchanting straia, And reap the harvest of the present hour, My satire shall not dart a sting in vain. Collect and fill thy coffers with the spoil And let thy gatherings recompense thy toil.
5 Patronizing, I believe,
There you may boast one sense is entertain'd, Gods! that these fly-blows of a stallion's day,
Should shake the constitution, rights and laws, Regale at Harrington's religious cell,
And prosecute the man of freedom's cause!
[illegible. Whilst Wilkes to every Britou's right appeald Exert your poor endeavours as you please, With loss of liberty that right he seald. The jest and bubble of the harlot crew,
Imprison’d and oppress'd he persever'd, What entertain'd your youtlı, in age pursue. Nor Sawney or his powerful sybil fear'd.
When Grafton shook oppression's iron rod, The hag replete with malice from above,
Shot poison on the screech owl of her love,
And flow'd in double rancour to her cell.
Madly she rav'd to ease her tortur'd mind,
But he, supported by his country's laws,
Bid her defiance, for 'twas freedom's cause. When every office was with rogues disgrac'd, Her treasurer and Talbot fought in vain, And the Scotch dialect became the taste
Tho' each attain'd his favourite object, gain. Could Beanfort with such creatures stay behind? She sat as usual when a project fails, No, Beaufort was a Briton, and resign'd.
Damn'd Chudleigh's phyz, and din'd upon her nails, Thy resignation, Somerset, shall shine
Unhappy land! whose goveru'd monarch sees When time bath buryed the recording line, Thro' glasses and perspective such as these, And proudly glaring in the rolls of fame,
When juggling to deceive bis untry'd sight, With more than titles decorate thy name. He views the ministry all trammell'd right, Amidst the gather'd rascals of the age,
Whilst to his eye the other glass apply'd, Who murder noble parts, the court their stage, His subjects' failings are all magnited. One nobleman of honesty remains,
Unheeded the petitions are receiv'd, Who scorns to draw in ministerial chains, Nor one report of grievances believ'd; Who honours virtue and his country's peace, 'Tis but the voice of faction in disguise And sees with pity grievances increase.
That blinds with liberty the people's eyes; Who bravely left all sordid views of place, "Tis riot and licentionsness pursues And lives the honour of the Beaufort race. Some disappointed placeman's private viete; 8.
Deep in the secret, Barrington and Gower, And shall such venal creatures steer the helm, Rais'd upon villany, aspire to power,
Waving oppression's banners round the realin? Big with importance they presume to rise
Shall Britons to the vile detested troop, Above a minister they must despise,
Forgetting ancient honour, meanly stoop? Whilst Barrington as secretary shows
Shall we our rights and liberties resign,
The favours we solicit are our owll.
And stronger still enforce the things you ask.
Alas! America, thy A statesman's coat of universal use;
Displays the ministry's contempt of laws. Some system of economy to save
Unrepresented thou art tax'd, excisid, Another million for another knave.
By creatures much too vile to be despis'd, Some plan to make a duty, large before,
The outcast of an outed gang are sent, Additionally great, to grind the poor.
To bless thy commerce, with government. For 'tis a maxim with the guiding wise,
Whilst pity rises to behold thy fate, Just as the commous sink the rich arise.
We see thee in this worst of troubles great, If ministers and privy council knaves
Whilst anxious for thy svarering dubious cause, Would rest contented with their being slaves, We give thy proper spirit due applause. And not with anxious infamy pursue
If virtuous Grafton's sentimental taste, Those measures which will fetter others too, Is in his measures or his mistress plac'd; The swelling cry of liberty would rest,
In either 'tis originally rare, Nor Englishmen complain, nor knaves protest. One shows the midnight cully, one the peer. But courtiers have a littleness of mind,
Review him, Britons, with a proper pride, And once enslaved would fetter all mankind. Was this a statesman qualified to guide? 'Tis to this marrowness of soul we owe
Was this the minister whose mighty hanel What further ills our liberties shall know,
Has scatter'd civil discord thro' the land? 'Tis from this principle our feuds began,
Since smallest trifles, when ordain'd by fate, Foinented by the Scots, ignoble clan,
Rise into power and counteract the great, Strange that such little creatures of a tool,
What shall we call thee, Grafton? Fortune's whip? By lust and not by merit rais'd to rule,
Or rather the burlesque of statesmansbip, Should sow contention in a noble land,
When daring in thy insolence of place, Aud scatter thunders from a venal hand.
Bold in an empty majesty of face, 6 Query, Supplant.
Doubtful, 8 Left out, but right, by rhyme.
We saw thee exercise thy magic rod
Whilst unrenowned for military deeds, And form a titled villain with a nod,
A youthful branch of royalty succeeds. Turn out the virtuous, airily advance
Let Coventry, Yonge, Palmerston and Brett The members of the council in a dance,
With resignation pay the crown a debt; . And honouring Sandwich with a serious air 9, If in return for offices of trust, Commend the fancy of his solitaire.
The ministry expect you'll prove unjust, These were thy actions worthy of record,
What soul that values freedom could with ease Worthy the bubbled wretch and venal lord. Stoop under obligations such as these. Since villany is meritorious grown,
If you a Briton, every virtue dead, Step forward, for thy merit's not unknown. That would upon your dying freedom tread, What Manstield's conscience shudder'd to receive List in the gang and piously procure, Thy mercenary temper cannot leave.
To make your calling and election sure; Reversions, pensions, bribes and [Illegible. Go fatter Sawney for his jockeyship, What mortal scoundrel can such things refuse? Assist in each long shuffle, hedge and slip, If Dunning's nice integrity of mind
Thus rising on the stilts of favour see Will not in pales of interest be confiu'd;
What Grafton was, and future dukes will be. Let his uncommon honesty resign,
How Rigby, Weymoath, Barrington began And boast the empty pension of the Nine; To juggle into fame and play the man. A Thurloe grasping every offer'd straw,
Amidst this general rage of turning out, Shines his successor, and degrades the law. What officer will stand, remains a doubt, How like the ministry who link'd his chains, If virtue's an objection at the board, His measures tend incessantly to gains.
With what propriety the council's stord; If Weymouth dresses to the height of taste, Where could the Caledonian minion find At once with
places lac'd, Such striking copies of his venal mind? Can such a summer insect of the state
Search thro' the winding labyrinths of place, Be otherwise than in externa's great?
See all alike politically base.
How fast the prodigies of state resign!
Still as they drop, the rising race begin
And generous Bristol, constant to his friend, From her who sacrificed her sonl to love?
Employs his lifted crutches to ascend. Rigby whose conscience is a perfect dice,
Look round thee, North! see what a glorious scene just epitome of every vice,
( let no thought of vengeance intervene: Replete with what accomplishments support Throw thy own insigniticance aside, The empty admiration of a court,
And swell in self-importance, porer and pride. Yet wants a barony to grace record,
See Holland easy with his pilfer'd store, And hopes to lose the rascal in the lord.
See Bute intriguing how to pilfer more, His wish is granted, and the king prepares See Grafton's coffers boast the wealth of place, A title of renown to brand his heirs.
A provident reserve to hedge a race. When vice creates the patent for a peer,
New to oppression and the servile chain, What lord so nominally great as Clare?
Hark how the wrong'd Americans complain. Whilst Chatham from his coroneted oak
Whilst unregarded the petitions lie, Unheeded shook the senate with his croak; And Liberty unnoticed swells her cry; "The minister too powerful to be right,
Yet, yet reflect, thou despicable thing, Laugh'd at his prophecy and second sight, llow wavering is the favour of a king; Since mother Shipton's oracle of state
Think, since that feeble fence and Bute is all, Forestali'd the future incidents of fate.
How soon thy humbug farce of state may fall, Grafton might strake his elbows, dance and dream, Then catch the present moment while 'tis thing Twere labour lost to strive against the stream.
Implore a noble pension and resign.
JOURNAL 6th, Saturday, Sept. 30, 1769.
[Copied from a poem in Chatterton's hand-writia; Turn'd to all points of politics and doubt,
in the British Museum.] But tho' for ever worsted, never out. Can such a wretched creature take the chair
'Tis mystry all, in every sect And exercise his new made power with air?
You find this palpable defect, This worthy speaker of a worthy crew
The axis of the dark machine Can write long speeches and repe: them too,
Is enigmatic and unseen, A practis'd lawyer in the venal court,
Opinion is the only guide From higher powers he borrows his report;
By which our senses are supply'd, Above the scandalous aspersion tool,
Mere grief's conjecture, fancy's wbim, He only squares his conscience by a rule.
Can make our reason side with him. Granby too great to join the heated cause,
But this discourse perhaps will be 'Throws down his useless truncheon and withdraws,
As little lik’d by you as me;
l'll change the subject for a better, 9 Omitted,
And leave the doctor, and his letter.