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200

New Years Day

to my Dear Friend, W. M. Esq;

Now Janus bids the world a good New-year
Faces about, then sets us as we were.
When (by your means) I'me clear'd of that great doubt,
And care I had to bring the year about.
Now custom summons me, with every man
(As springs pay Tribute to the Ocean)
To make Returnes, and offer at that shrine
Whence I derive, that all I dare call mine.
And (as in duty bound) should thither come
Not with a single gift, but Hecatombe.
See the Stenography of Dearth and Scant.
Some want no store, and I no store of want.
And can but this advantage gain thereby
To priviledge my down right Poetry.
Oh could rime pay my scores! or make amends,
I'de have such verses at my Fingers Ends:
As without byting, Knuckles should distill,
Had thus readily my Wit at will,
Till mounted on the spreading wings of Fame
You should triumphant ride, & your vast name

201

Be Eccho'd, till it had reacht either Pole,
And so become immortal as your Soul
Or were I rich! but this age will not yeild
More Argent, to me, then my Griffon's Field,
Or could he with his display'd Sable Wing,
As Pegasus did once, create a Spring,
Which like Pectolus with it's silver streams,
Should stil bring fresh supplies to mine extrems;
Had I this wish, my Chief should never view
A Moyle but Argent, and imbordur'd too.
But oh! this will not do! no stock can serve
To Pay, or Praise you, so as you Deserve.