Classic Poem

Now Phoebus did the world with frowns survey;
Dark were the clouds and dismal was the day,
When pensive Harley from the court returned,
Slowly his chariot moved, as that had mourned;
Heavy the mules before the statesman go,
As dragging an unusual weight of woe;
Sad was his aspect, and he waking dreams
Of plots abortive and of ruined schemes;
So some sad youth whose griefs alone survive,
Mourns a dead mistress or a wife alive;
Such looks would Russell's funeral triumphs grace,
So Nottingham still looked with such a dismal face.
To Kensington's high towers bright Masham flies,
Thence she afar the sad procession spies,
Where the late statesman doth in sorrow ride,
His Welsh supporter mourning by his side;
At which her boundless grief loud cries began,
And thus lamenting, through the court she ran:
Hither, ye wretched Tories, hither come;
Behold the godlike hero's fatal doom.
If e'er you used with ravishing delight
To hear his banter and admire his bite;
Now to his sorrows yield this last relief,
Who once was all your hopes is now your grief.
Had this great man his envied post enjoyed,
Tories had ruled and Whigs had been destroyed.
Harcourt the mace, to which he long aspired,
Had now possessed, and Cowper had retired;
And Sunderland his post been forced to quit,
Which St. John had supplied with spritely wit.
Sage Hanmer (passing court employments by)
Had ruled the coffers, Tories to supply.
Gower had shined with rich Newcastle's seal,
And Harley's self, to show his humble zeal,
Had been contented with that trifling wand,
That now does mischief in Godolphin's hand.
Our fleet secure had been Rooke's tender care,
And Ormond had been sent to head the war.
Blenheim to Radnor had been forced to yield,
And Cardiff cliffs obscured Ramillia's field.