Poems on Affairs of State

With Clouted Iron-Shoos, and Sheepskin Breeches,
More Rags than Manners, and more Dirt than Riches:
From driving Cows and Calves to Layton-Market,
While of my Greatness there appear'd no Spark yet,
Behold I come, to let you see the Pride
With which Exalted Beggars always Ride.

Born to the needful Labours of the Plow,
The Cart-whip grac'd me as the Chain does now.
Nature and Fate in doubt what Course to take,
Whether I should a Lord or Plow-boy make;
Kindly at last resolv'd they wou'd promote me,
And first a Knave, and then a Knight they vote me.
What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare,
And furnish'd me with an exceeding Care,
To fit me for what they design'd to have me;
And ev'ry Gift but Honesty they gave me.

And thus equip'd, to this proud Town I came,
In quest of Bread, and not in quest of Fame.

Blind to my future Fate, a humble Boy,
Free from the Guilt and Glory I enjoy.
The hopes which my Ambition entertain'd,
Were in the Name of Foot-Boy all contain'd.
The greatest Heights from small Beginnings rise;
The Gods were Great on Earth, before they reach'd the Skies.

B****well, the Generous Temper of whose Mind,
Was always to be bountiful inclin'd;
Whether by his ill Fate or Fancy led,
First took me up, and furnish'd me with Bread.
The little Services he put me to,
Seem'd Labours, rather than were truly so.
But always my Advancement he design'd;
For 'twas his very Nature to be kind.
Large was his Soul, his Temper ever free;
The best of Masters and of Men to me.
And I who was before decreed by Fate,
To be made Infamous as well as Great,
With an obsequious Diligence obey'd him,
Till trusted with his All, and then betray'd him.

All his past Kindnesses I trampled on,
Ruin'd his Fortunes, to erect my own.
So Vipers in the Bosom bred, begin
To hiss at that Hand first which took them in.
With eager Treach'ry I his Fall pursu'd,
And my first Trophies were Ingratitude.

Ingratitude, the worst of Humane Guilt,
The basest Action Mankind can commit;
Which like the Sin against the Holy Ghost,
Has least of Honour, and of Guilt the most;
Distinguish'd from all other Crimes by this,
That 'tis a Crime which no Man will confess.
That Sin alone, which shou'd not be forgiv'n
On Earth, altho' perhaps it may in Heaven.

Thus my first Benefactor I o'rethrew;
And how shou'd I be to a second true?
The Publick Trust came next into my Care,
And I to use them scurvily prepare:

My needy Sov'reign Lord I play'd upon,
And lent him many a Thousand of his own;
For which great Int'rest I took care to Charge,
And so my ill-got Wealth became so large.
My Predecessor Judas was a Fool,
Fitter to have been whip'd and sent to School,
Than sell a Saviour: Had I been at hand,
His Master had not been so cheap trapann'd;
I wou'd ha' made the eager Jews ha' found,
For Thirty Pieces, Thirty thousand Pound.

My Cousin Ziba, of Immortal Fame,
(Ziba and I shall never want a Name:)
First-born of Treason, Nobly did advance
His Masters Fall, for his Inheritance.
By whose keen Arts old David first began
To break his Sacred Oath to Jonathan:
The good old King 'tis thought was very loth
To break his Word, and therefore broke his Oath.
Ziba's a Traytor of some Quality,
Yet Ziba might ha' been inform'd by me:
Had I been there, he ne'er had been content
With half th'Estate, nor half the Government.

In our late Revolution 'twas thought strange
That I of all Mankind should like the Change:
But they who wonder'd at it, never knew,
That in it I did my old Game pursue;
Nor had they heard of Twenty thousand Pound,
Which never yet was lost, nor ne'er was found.
Thus all things in their turn to Sale I bring,
God and my Master first, and then the King:
Till by successful Villanies made Bold,
I thought to turn the Nation into Gold;
And so to Forg---ry my Hand I bent,
Not doubting I could gull the Government;
But there was ruffl'd by the Parliament.
And if I scap'd th'Unhappy Tree to climb,
'Twas want of Law, and not for want of Crime.

But my Old Friend, who printed in my Face
A needful Competence of English Brass,
Having more Business yet for me to do,
And loth to lose his Trusty Servant so,
Manag'd the Matter with such Art and Skill,
As sav'd his Heroe, and threw out the B---ll.

And now I'm grac'd with unexpected Honours,
For which I'll certainly abuse the Donors:
Knighted, and made a Tribune of the People,
Whose Laws and Properties I'm like to keep well:
The Custos Rotulorum of the City,
And Captain of the Guards of their Banditti.
Surrounded by my Catchpoles, I declare
Against the needy Debtor open War.
I hang poor Thieves for stealing of your Pelf,
And suffer none to rob you but my self.

The King commanded me to help reform ye,
And how and when I'll do't, Miss shall inform ye.
I keep the best Seraglio in the Nation,
And hope in time to bring it into Fashion.
No Brimstone Whore need fear the Lash from me,
That part I'll leave to Brother Jeffery.
Our Gallants need not go abroad to Rome,
I'll keep a Whoring Jubilee at Home.
Whoring's the Darling of my Inclination;
A'n't I a Magistrate for Reformation?
For this my Praise is sung by ev'ry Bard,
For which Bridewell would be a just reward.
In Print my Panegyricks fill the Street,
And hired Goal-Birds their Huzza's repeat.
Some Charities contriv'd to make a Show,
Have taught the needy Rabble to do so;
Whose empty Noise is a Mechanick Fame,
Since for Sir Belzebub they'd do the same.

The Devil.

University of Virginia Library

His Fine Speech, &c.