Classic Poem

Sir R. W.

While in all my Schemes you most heartily joyn'd
And help'd the worst Jobs that I ever design'd,
In Pamphlets, in Ballads, in Senate, at Table
Thy Satyr was witty, thy Council was Able.

W.P.

While with me you divided both profit and Care
And the Plunder and Glory did equally share
Assur'd of his Place, if my Fat Freind should die,
The Prince of Wales was not so happy as I.

Sir R. W.

Harry Pelham is now my Support and Delight,
Whom we bubble all Day, we joke on at Night,
His Head is well furnish'd, his Lungs have their Merit,
I would venture the Rope to advance such a Spirit.

W.P.

I too have a Harry more usefull than yours;
Writes verses like mad, and will talk you whole hours,
I would bleed by the Hatchet or swing in the Cord
To see him once more in his robes, like a Lord.

Sir R. W.

But what if this Quarrel was kindly made up?
Would you my dear Willy accept of a Sop?
If the Queen should confess, you had long been her Choice
And you knew it was I, that spoke in her Voice.

W.P.

Tho my Harry so gay, so polite, and so Civil,
You rude as a Bear, and more proud than a Devil,
I gladly would drop him, and laugh in your Ear
At the Fools we have made for this last dozen year.