Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell ... To which are added Poems on Several Occasions, Published in his Life-Time |
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The Favourite:
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 | Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell |  |
4
The Favourite:
A SIMILE.
Written in the Year, 1712.
When Boys at Eton once a Year
In military Pomp appear,
He who just trembled at the Rod,
Treads it a Heroe, talks a God,
And in an Instant can create
A dozen Officers of State.
His little Legion all assail,
Arrest without Release or Bail:
Each passing Traveller must halt,
Must pay the Tax, and eat the Salt.
You don't love Salt, you say ------ and storm ------
Look o'these Staves, Sir ------ and Conform;
But yet this Sun, that shines so bright,
In sable Gown will set at Night,
And Morn return with College Appetite.
In military Pomp appear,
He who just trembled at the Rod,
Treads it a Heroe, talks a God,
And in an Instant can create
A dozen Officers of State.
His little Legion all assail,
Arrest without Release or Bail:
Each passing Traveller must halt,
Must pay the Tax, and eat the Salt.
5
Look o'these Staves, Sir ------ and Conform;
But yet this Sun, that shines so bright,
In sable Gown will set at Night,
And Morn return with College Appetite.
Thus the new Favourite in his Plumes,
New Manners and new Airs assumes:
He who before was at your Whistle,
Begins to bully, frown, and bristle;
And to his Band of hireling Tartars
Gives Pensions, Places, Titles, Garters;
His Schemes, his Projects, all must be,
A Law to Bob, his Grace, and Me:
His Friends stand close, and aid his Pow'r;
What, don't you like him? ------ to the Tow'r.
You swear 'tis strange ------ but let this Fume
In busy Play itself consume:
See him chagrin at last retire
To a Welch Farm and Country Fire;
With this to comfort fallen State,
The Time has been when he was Great.
New Manners and new Airs assumes:
He who before was at your Whistle,
Begins to bully, frown, and bristle;
And to his Band of hireling Tartars
Gives Pensions, Places, Titles, Garters;
His Schemes, his Projects, all must be,
A Law to Bob, his Grace, and Me:
His Friends stand close, and aid his Pow'r;
What, don't you like him? ------ to the Tow'r.
You swear 'tis strange ------ but let this Fume
In busy Play itself consume:
See him chagrin at last retire
To a Welch Farm and Country Fire;
6
The Time has been when he was Great.
| Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell | |