As you are an impartial Writer, I dare say you will do justice on both sides.
The Verses on the Laureat, in yours of Saturday last, have occafion'd the following reply; which I hope you will give a Place to in your next, to show that we can be quick as well as smart, upon a proper occasion. And as I think it the lowest mark of a scoundrel to make bold with any man's character in print, without subscribing the true name of the author; I therefore desire, if the Laureat is concern'd enough to ask the question, that you will tell him my name, and where I live, till then I beg leave to be known by no other than that of your servant,
Francis Fair-play.
AH! hah! Sir Coll. is that thy way,Thy own dull Praise to write?And would'st thou stand so sure a lay?No! that's too stale a bite.
Nature and art in thee combine,Thy Talents here excell:All shining brass thou dost outshine,To play the cheat so well.
Who sees thee in Iago's part,But thinks thee such a Rogue?And is not glad with all his heart,To hang so sad a Dog?
When Bays thou play'st, thy self thou art,For that by nature fit,No blackhead better suits the part,Than such a coxcomb wit,
In Wronghead too, thy brains we see,Who might do well at plough;As fit for Parliament was he,As for the Laurel thou.
Bring thy protected verse from Court,And try it on the Stage;There it will make much better sport,And set the town in rage.
There beau's, & wits, & cits, and smarts,Where hissing's not uncivilWill shew their parts to thy deserts,And send it to the devil.
But, ah in vain 'gainst thee we write,In vain thy verse we maul;Our sharpest satyr's thy delight,For [1]Blood! thou'lt stand it all!
Thunder, 'tis said, the Laurel spares,Nought but thy brow could blast it,And yet! O curst provoking Stars!Thy comfort is, thou hast it.
An ODE to Sir Robert Walpole, for New-Year's Day, 1731.
I.Guardian of Britannia's glory,Life and soul of Europe's peace,Greatest name in modern story,May thy happy years increase!Brighter still thy genius shining,Richer blessings yet designing.
II.Thee, the sacred muses hailing,Dulness seat'd in slumber lies;Arts and wealth thro' thee prevailing,Faction far confounded flies;Happy prince in thee confiding:Happy people of thy guiding!
III.Viewing present, past, and future,As thou keep'st eternal watch,Janus say (for thou are neuter)Hast thou seen our Walpole's match?Phœbus in thy radiant journey,Canst than to a greater turn thee?
IV.Lucky omens, minutes smiling,All the friendly cares appear?Every discontent beguiling,Crown the Patriot's coming Year:In his perfon strongly guarded,Counsels blest, and works rewarded.
