EPIGRAM.

MY

Lord' complains that Pope, stark mad with gardens, Has cut three trees, the value of three farthings.

'But he's my neighbour," cries the peer polite:

"And if he visit me, I'll waive the right."

What! on compulsion, and against my will,

A lord's acquaintance? Let him file his bill!

EPIGRAM.

5

[EXPLAINED by Carruthers to refer to the large sums of money given in charity on account of the severity of the weather about the year 1740.]

YES! 'tis the time, (I cried,) impose the chain,
Destined and due to wretches self-enslaved;

But when I saw such charity remain,

I half could wish this people should be saved.

Faith lost, and Hope, our Charity begins;
And 'tis a wise design in pitying Heaven,

If this can cover multitude of sins,

To take the only way to be forgiven.

OCCASIONED BY READING THE TRAVELS OF CAPTAIN LEMUEL GULLIVER.

On the publication of Gulliver's Travels Pope wrote several pieces of humour intended to accompany the work, which he sent to Swift; and they were printed in 1727 under the title of Poems occasioned by reading the Travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver explanatory and commendatory. Roscoe. [I. II. IV. were also published in the joint Miscellanies.]

I.

TO QUINBUS FLESTRIN, THE MAN-MOUNTAIN.

An Ode by Tilly-Tit, Poet Laureate to His Majesty of Lilliput.
Translated into English.

I'

N amaze,
Lost I gaze,

Can our eyes
Reach thy size?
May my lays
Swell with praise,
Worthy thee!
Worthy me!
Muse, inspire,

All thy fire!
Bards of old

Of him told,
When they said

Atlas' head

Propp'd the skies:

See! and believe your eyes!

See him stride

Valleys wide,

1 Lord Radnor. Warton.

Over woods,
Over floods!
When he treads,
Mountains' heads
Groan and shake:
Armies quake:
Lest his spurn
Overturn

Man and steed:
Troops, take heed!
Left and right,

Speed your flight!
Lest an host

Beneath his foot be lost.

Turn'd aside,

From his hide,

Safe from wound,
Darts rebound.
From his nose
Clouds he blows:
When he speaks,
Thunder breaks!
When he eats,
Famine threats!
When he drinks,
Neptune shrinks!
Nigh thy ear,
In mid air,
On thy hand

Let me stand;

So shall I,

Lofty Poet, touch the sky.

II.

THE LAMENTATION OF GLUMDALCLITCH FOR THE

S

LOSS OF GRILDRIG.

A PASTORAL.

OON as Glumdalclitch miss'd her pleasing care,
She wept, she blubber'd, and she tore her hair.

No British miss sincerer grief has known,

Her squirrel missing, or her sparrow flown.

She furl'd her sampler, and haul'd in her thread,
And stuck her needle into Grildrig's bed;

5

Then spread her hands, and with a bounce let fall

Her baby, like the giant in Guildhall.

In peals of thunder now she roars, and now

She gently whimpers like a lowing cow:
Yet lovely in her sorrow still appears,

ΙΟ

Her locks dishevell'd, and her flood of tears
Seem like the lofty barn of some rich swain,
When from the thatch drips fast a shower of rain.
In vain she search'd each cranny of the house,
Each gaping chink impervious to a mouse.
"Was it for this" (she cry'd) "with daily care
Within thy reach I set the vinegar!
And fill'd the cruet with the acid tide,
While pepper-water worms thy bait supply'd;
Where twined the silver eel around thy hook,
And all the little monsters of the brook.

Sure in that lake he dropp'd; my Grilly's drown'd."
She dragg'd the cruet, but no Grildrig found.
"Vain is thy courage, Grilly, vain thy boast;
But little creatures enterprise the most.

15

20

25

Trembling, I've seen thee dare the kitten's paw,
Nay, mix with children, as they play'd at taw,
Nor fear the marbles, as they bounding flew;
Marbles to them, but rolling rocks to you.

"Why did I trust thee with that giddy youth?
Who from a Page can ever learn the truth?
Versed in Court tricks, that money-loving boy
To some Lord's daughter sold the living toy;
Or rent him linib from limb in cruel play,
As children tear the wings of flies away.
From place to place o'er Brobdingnag I'll roam,
And never will return or bring thee home.
But who hath eyes to trace the passing wind?
How, then, thy fairy footsteps can I find?
Dost thou bewilder'd wander all alone,

30

35

40

In the green thicket of a mossy stone;

Or tumbled from the toadstool's slippery round,

Or in the golden cowslip's velvet head:

Dost thou, embosom'd in the lovely rose,
Or sunk within the peach's down, repose?
Within the king-cup if thy limbs are spread,

Perhaps all maim'd, lie grov'lling on the ground?

45

Where sleeps my Grildrig in his fragrant bower. "But ah! I fear thy little fancy roves

O show me, Flora, midst those sweets, the flower

50

On little females, and on little loves;

Thy pygmy children, and thy tiny spouse,
Thy baby playthings that adorn thy house,

Doors, windows, chimneys, and the spacious rooms,
Equal in size to cells of honeycombs.

55

Hast thou for these now ventured from the shore,
Thy bark a bean-shell, and a straw thy oar?
Or in thy box, now bounding on the main,
Shall I ne'er bear thyself and house again?
And shall I set thee on my hand no more,
To see thee leap the lines, and traverse o'er
My spacious palm? Of stature scarce a span,
Mimic the actions of a real man?

бо

No more behold thee turn my watch's key,
As seamen at a capstern anchors weigh?

65

How wert thou wont to walk with cautious tread,

A dish of tea like milk-pail on thy head?
How chase the mite that bore thy cheese away,
And keep the rolling maggot at a bay?"

70

She said, but broken accents stopp'd her voice,
Soft as the speaking-trumpet's mellow noise:
She sobb'd a storm, and wip'd her flowing eyes,
Which seem'd like two broad suns in misty skies.
Osquander not thy grief; those tears command
To weep upon our cod in Newfoundland:
The plenteous pickle shall preserve the fish,
And Europe taste thy sorrows in a dish.

III.

TO MR LEMUEL GULLIVER,

THE GRATEFUL ADDRESS OF THE UNHAPPY HOUYHNHNMS,
NOW IN SLAVERY AND BONDAGE IN ENGLAND.

T%

O thee, we wretches of the Houyhnhnm band,
Condemn'd to labour in a barbarous land,
Return our thanks. Accept our humble lays,
And let each grateful Houyhnhnm neigh thy praise.

O happy Yahoo, purg'd from human crimes,
By thy sweet sojourn in those virtuous climes,
Where reign our sires; there, to thy country's shame,
Reason, you found, and virtue were the same.
Their precepts raz'd the prejudice of youth,
And even a Yahoo learn'd the love of truth.

Art thou the first who did the coast explore;
Did never Yahoo tread that ground before?
Yes, thousands! But in pity to their kind,
Or sway'd by envy, or through pride of mind,
They hid their knowledge of a nobler race,

15

Which own'd, would all their sires and sons disgrace.

You, like the Samian, visit lands unknown,

And by their wiser morals mend your own.

Thus Orpheus travell'd to reform his kind,

Came back, and tamed the brutes he left behind.

20

You went, you saw, you heard: with virtue fought,
Then spread those morals which the Houyhnhnms taught.
Our labours here must touch thy generous heart,
To see us strain before the coach and cart;
Compell'd to run each knavish jockey's heat!
Subservient to Newmarket's annual cheat!

With what reluctance do we lawyer's bear,
To fleece their country clients twice a year?
Or managed in your schools, for fops to ride,
How foam, how fret beneath a load of pride!
Yes, we are slaves-but yet, by reason's force,
Have learn'd to bear misfortune, like a Horse.

O would the stars, to ease my bonds, ordain,
That gentle Gulliver might guide my rein!
Safe would I bear him to his journey's end,
For 'tis a pleasure to support a friend.
But if my life be doom'd to serve the bad,
O! may'st thou never want an easy pad!

HOUYHNHNM.

10

5

IV.

MARY GULLIVER TO CAPTAIN LEMUEL GULLIVER.

AN EPISTLE.

ARGUMENT.

THE Captain, some time after his return, being retired to Mr Sympson's in the country, Mrs Gulliver, apprehending from his late behaviour some estrangement of his affections, writes him the following expostulating, soothing, and tenderly complaining epistle.

WE

WELCOME, thrice welcome, to thy native place!
-What, touch me not? what, shun a wife's embrace?
Have I for this thy tedious absence borne,

And wak'd, and wish'd whole nights for thy return?

In five long years I took no second spouse;

What Redriff wife so long hath kept her vows?

5

Your eyes, your nose, inconstancy betray;
Your nose you stop; your eyes you turn away.
'Tis said, that thou should'st cleave unto thy Wife;
Once thou didst cleave, and I could cleave for life.
Hear, and relent! hark how thy children moan;
Be kind at least to these: they are thy own;
Be bold, and count them all; secure to find

IO

The honest number that you left behind.
See how they pat thee with their pretty paws:

Why start you? are they snakes? or have they claws?
Thy Christian seed, our mutual flesh and bone:
Be kind at least to these, they are thy own.
Biddel, like thee, might farthest India rove;
He changed his country, but retain'd his love.
There's Captain Pennell, absent half his life,
Comes back, and is the kinder to his wife.
Yet Pennell's wife is brown, compared to me;
And Mrs Biddel sure is fifty-three.

Not touch me! never neighbour call'd me slut:
Was Flimnap's dame more sweet in Lilliput?
I've no red hair to breathe an odious fume;
At least thy consort's cleaner than thy Groom.
Why then that dirty stable-boy thy care?
What mean those visits to the Sorrel Mare?
Say, by what witchcraft, or what demon led,-
Preferr'st thou Litter to the marriage bed!

Some say the devil himself is in that Mare:
If so, our Dean shall drive him forth by prayer.
Some think you mad, some think you are possess'd;
That Bedlam and clean straw will suit you best.
Vain means, alas! this frenzy to appease,
That straw, that straw, would heighten the disease.
My bed (the scene of all cur former joys,
Witness two lovely girls, two lovely boys,)