The Dev’l grown wiser, to the gaze
Six thousand pounds a year displays,
And finds success from the device;
Finds this fair fruit too well suffice
To pay the peace, and honest praise,
Of EDEN lost.
ANOTHER.
“A mere affair of trade to embrace,
Wines, brandies, gloves, fans, cambricks, lace;
For this on me my Sovereign laid
His high commands, and I obeyed;
Nor think, my lord, this conduct base.
“Party were guilt in such a case,
When thus my country, for a space,
Calls my poor skill to DORSET’s aid
A mere affair of trade!”
Thus EDEN, with unblushing face,
To NORTH would palliate his disgrace;
When NORTH, with smiles, this answer made:
“You might have spared what you have said;
I thought the business of your place
A mere affair of trade!”
ANOTHER.
Around the tree, so fair, so green,
Erewhile, when summer shone serene,
Lo! where the leaves in many a ring,
Before the wint’ry tempest wing,
Fly scattered o’er the dreary scene:
Such, NORTH, thy friends. Now cold and keen
Thy Winter blows; no shelt’ring skreen
They stretch, no graceful shade they fling
Around the tree.
Yet grant, just Fate, each wretch so mean,
Like EDEN, pining in his spleen
For posts, for stars, for strings, may swing
On two stout posts in hempen string!
Few eyes would drop a tear, I ween,
Around the tree.