While I was thus lamenting my ill hap,
Comes aid at length; a brace of bailiffs clap
The rascal on the back: 'Here take your fees,
Kind gentlemen,' said I, 'for my release.'
He would have had me bail. 'Excuse me, sir,
I've made a vow ne'er to be surety more;
My father was undone by 't heretofore.'
Thus I got off, and blessed the fates that he
Was prisoner made, I set at liberty.
PARAPHRASE UPON HORACE.
BOOK I. — ODE XXXI.
Quid dedicatum poscit Apollinem
Vates? &c.
1
WHAT does the poet's modest wish require?
What boon does he of gracious heaven desire?
Not the large crops of Esham's goodly soil,
Which tire the mower's and the reaper's toil;
Not the soft flocks on hilly Cotswold fed,
Nor Lempster fields with living fleeces clad;
He does not ask the grounds, where gentle Thames,
Or swifter Severn, spread their fattening streams,
Where they with wanton windings play,
And eat their widened banks insensibly away;
He does not ask the wealth of Lombard-street,
Which consciences and souls are pawned to get;
Nor those exhaustless mines of gold,
Which Guinea and Peru in their rich bosoms hold.
2
On which indidgent nature ever smiles,
