 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
The doleful Complaint of Sir H. M. on the Loss of his Election at Oxford, 1705.
Ye Freeholders most dear
Of Cardigan-shire,
Look down from your Mountains with Pity,
On the desperate Case
Of your Knight Out of Place,
And attend to my sorrowful Ditty.
Of Cardigan-shire,
Look down from your Mountains with Pity,
On the desperate Case
Of your Knight Out of Place,
And attend to my sorrowful Ditty.
23
I left you indeed,
In hopes to succeed
At Oxford, the Seat of the Muses;
Where Merit prevails
At less Cost than in Wales,
And the Chosen adorn him that chooses.
In hopes to succeed
At Oxford, the Seat of the Muses;
Where Merit prevails
At less Cost than in Wales,
And the Chosen adorn him that chooses.
The Thing would be done
As sure as a Gun,
I was told by Sachev'rell my Hector;
But now they send back
Poor baffled Sir Mac,
And call me an empty Projector.
As sure as a Gun,
I was told by Sachev'rell my Hector;
But now they send back
Poor baffled Sir Mac,
And call me an empty Projector.
A Pinnacle Fine,
Dug out of my Mine,
I rais'd on the Top of High Church-a;
To no Purpose, God wot,
They matter it not,
And leave me and my Cause in the Lurch-a.
Dug out of my Mine,
I rais'd on the Top of High Church-a;
To no Purpose, God wot,
They matter it not,
And leave me and my Cause in the Lurch-a.
I sent to each Head,
Bound in Blue and in Red,
My Case of Ashby and White-a;
But as soon as they'd read it,
I lost all my Credit,
And now they bid me go sh***te-a.
Bound in Blue and in Red,
My Case of Ashby and White-a;
But as soon as they'd read it,
I lost all my Credit,
And now they bid me go sh***te-a.
I drew my Goose Quill
For Occasional Bill,
And wore it quite down to the Stump-a;
I gave them my Pelf,
Would ha' given 'em my self,
But they care not a F---t for Sir Numph-a.
For Occasional Bill,
And wore it quite down to the Stump-a;
I gave them my Pelf,
Would ha' given 'em my self,
But they care not a F---t for Sir Numph-a.
24
I wrote o'er and o'er
All the Bills for the Poor,
And abridg'd them to one that was longer;
Touch'd again and again
By my accurate Pen,
Each Clause grew stronger and stronger.
All the Bills for the Poor,
And abridg'd them to one that was longer;
Touch'd again and again
By my accurate Pen,
Each Clause grew stronger and stronger.
All my Labour and Law
Was not thought worth a Straw,
To reward Publick Spirits no Care is;
First my Bill with a Flout,
Then I was thrown out,
And sent back with the Poor to the Parish.
Was not thought worth a Straw,
To reward Publick Spirits no Care is;
First my Bill with a Flout,
Then I was thrown out,
And sent back with the Poor to the Parish.
A Book I put out,
I wrote it about
The Thoughts of a Man of Black-List-a;
But the Stuff that came after,
Occasion'd such Laughter,
My Readers were almost bepist-a.
I wrote it about
The Thoughts of a Man of Black-List-a;
But the Stuff that came after,
Occasion'd such Laughter,
My Readers were almost bepist-a.
The Learned allow'd,
Of which I am proud,
That the Work there had been some Good in;
But still they would say,
'Twas all out of the way,
And had not one word of the Pudding.
Of which I am proud,
That the Work there had been some Good in;
But still they would say,
'Twas all out of the way,
And had not one word of the Pudding.
When the Poll was declar'd,
O then it appear'd,
At which I was too much concern'd;
That Sir William had more
By One Hundred and Four,
Than even Sir Humphrey the Learned.
O then it appear'd,
At which I was too much concern'd;
That Sir William had more
By One Hundred and Four,
Than even Sir Humphrey the Learned.
25
Had the Odds been but few,
I had ne'er look'd so blue,
Since Regard had been paid to my Merit;
To be beat out of Sight
By an Un-Writing Knight,
Flesh and Blood is not able to bear it.
I had ne'er look'd so blue,
Since Regard had been paid to my Merit;
To be beat out of Sight
By an Un-Writing Knight,
Flesh and Blood is not able to bear it.
Since they've play'd such a Game,
Let them e'en take the Shame,
They shall find to their Cost what will follow;
I'll retire to my Mines,
Where the Sun never shines,
And a F---t for the Sons of Apollo.
Let them e'en take the Shame,
They shall find to their Cost what will follow;
I'll retire to my Mines,
Where the Sun never shines,
And a F---t for the Sons of Apollo.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |