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“I found you did it, by your grinning;
"Your business is, to mind your spinning.
"But how you came to interpofe

"In making bishops, no one knows :
"Or who regarded your report;
"For never were you feen at court.
"And if you must have your petition,
"There's Berkeley* in the fame condition:
"Look, there he ftands, and 'tis but just,
"If one must drown, the other must;
"But, if you'll leave us bishop Judas,
"We'll give you Berkeley for Bermudas.
"Now, if 'twill gratify your fpight,
"To put him in a plaguy fright,

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Although 'tis hardly worth the cost, "You foon fhall fee him foundly toft.

"You'll find him swear, blaspheme, and damn

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(And every moment take a dram)

"His ghaftly visage with an air

"Of reprobation and despair :

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"Or elfe fome hiding-hole he seeks,
"For fear the reft fhould say he fqueaks;

"Or, as Fitzpatrick † did before,

"Refolve to perish with his whore ;

"Or elfe he raves, and roars, and swears,
"And, but for fhame, would fay his prayers,

"Or, would you see his fpirits fink,

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Relaxing downwards in a stink ?

* Dr. George Berkeley, dean of Derry, and after wards bifhop of Cloyne.

+ Brigadier Fitzpatrick was drowned in one of the packet-boats in the bay of Dublin, in a great storm.

If fuch a fight as this can pleafe ye,
"Good madam Pallas, pray be easy,
"To Neptune speak, and he 'll confent;

But he'll come back the knave he went."
The goddefs, who conceiv'd an hope,
That Horte was deftin'd to a rope,
Believ'd it beft to condescend

To fpare a foe, to fave a friend :
But, fearing Berkeley might be scar'd,
She left him Virtue for a guard.

ODE Ο Ν

SCIENCE.

OH, heavenly-born! in deepest dells

If faireft fcience ever dwells
Beneath the mossy cave ;

Indulge the verdure of the woods:
With azure beauty gild the floods,
And flowery carpets lave;

For melancholy ever reigns
Delighted in the fylvan fcenes
With fcientific light;

While Dian, huntrefs of the vales,
Seeks lulling founds and fanning gales,
Though wrapt from mortal fight.

Yet, goddess, yet the way explore
With magic rites and heathen lore
Obstructed and deprefs'd :
Till Wisdom give the facred Nine,
Untaught, not uninspir'd, to shine,
By Reafon's power redress d.

When

When Solon and Lycurgus taught,
To moralize the human thought
Of mad opinion's maze,

To erring zeal they gave new laws.
Thy charms, O Liberty, the cause
That blends congenial rays.

Bid bright Aftræa gild the morn,
Or bid a hundred funs be born,
To hecatomb the year;
Without thy aid, in vain the poles,
In vain the zodiac fyftem rolls,
In vain the lunar fphere.

Come, faireft princefs of the throng,
Bring fweet Philofophy along
In metaphyfic dreams;

While raptur'd bards no more behold

A vernal age of purer gold

In Heliconian ftreams.

Drive Thraldom with malignant hand,

To curfe fome other deftin'd land

By Folly led aftray :

Jerne bear on azure wing;

Energic let her foar, and fing
Thy univerfal fway.

So, when Amphion bade the lyre
To more majestic sound aspire,

Behold the madding throng,
In wonder and oblivion drown'd,

To sculpture turn'd by magic found
And petrifying fong.

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