Classic Poem

In spite of Pope, in spite of Gay,
And all that he or they can say;
Sing on I must, and sing I will
Of Richmond Lodge, and Marble Hill.

Last Friday night, as neighbours use,
This couple met to talk of news.
For by old proverbs it appears,
That walls have tongues, and hedges, ears.
MARBLE HILL

Quoth Marble Hill, right well I ween,
Your mistress now is grown a queen;
You'll find it soon by woeful proof,
She'll come no more beneath your roof.
RICHMOND LODGE

The kingly prophet well evinces,
That we should put no trust in princes;
My royal master promised me
To raise me to a high degree:
But now he's grown a king, God wot,
I fear I shall be soon forgot.
You see, when folks have got their ends,
How quickly they neglect their friends;
Yet I may say 'twixt me and you,
Pray God they now may find as true.
MARBLE HILL

My house was built but for a show,
My Lady's empty pockets know;
And now she will not have a shilling
To raise the stairs, or build the ceiling;
For, all the courtly madams round,
Now pay four shillings in the pound.
'Tis come to what I always thought;
My dame is hardly worth a groat.
Had you and I been courtiers born,
We should not thus have lain forlorn;
For, those we dexterous courtiers call,
Can rise upon their master's fall.
But we, unlucky and unwise,
Must fall, because our masters rise.
RICHMOND LODGE

My master scarce a fortnight since,
Was grown as wealthy as a prince;
But now it will be no such thing,
For he'll be poor as any king:
And, by his crown will nothing get;
But, like a king, to run in debt.
MARBLE HILL

No more the Dean, that grave divine,
Shall keep the key of my (no) wine;
My ice-house rob as heretofore,
And steal my artichokes no more;
Poor Patty Blount no more be seen
Bedraggled in my walks so green;
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope;
And here no more will dangle Pope.
RICHMOND LODGE

Here wont the Dean when he's to seek,
To sponge a breakfast once a week;
To cry the bread was stale, and mutter
Complaints against the royal butter.
But, now I fear it will be said,
No butter sticks upon his bread.
We soon shall find him full of spleen,
For want of tattling to the Queen;
Stunning her royal ears with talking,
His Reverence and her Highness walking:
Whilst Lady Charlotte, like a stroller,
Sits mounted on the garden roller.
A goodly sight to see her ride,
With ancient Mirmont at her side.
In velvet cap his head lies warm;
His hat for show, beneath his arm.
MARBLE HILL

Some South Sea broker from the city,
Will purchase me, the more's the pity,
Lay all my fine plantations waste,
To fit them to his vulgar taste;
Changed for the worse in every part,
My master Pope will break his heart.
RICHMOND LODGE

In my own Thames may I be drownded,
If e'er I stoop beneath a crowned head:
Except her Majesty prevails
To place me with the Prince of Wales.
And then I shall be free from fears,
For, he'll be prince these fifty years.
I then will turn a courtier too,
And serve the times as others do.
Plain loyalty not built on hope,
I leave to your contriver, Pope:
None loves his king and country better,
Yet none was ever less their debtor.
MARBLE HILL

Then, let him come and take a nap,
In summer, on my verdant lap:
Prefer our villas where the Thames is,
To Kensington, or hot St James's;
Nor shall I dull in silence sit;
For, 'tis to me he owes his wit;
My groves, my echoes, and my birds,
Have taught him his poetic words.
We gardens, and you wildernesses,
Assist all poets in distresses,
Him twice a week I here expect,
To rattle Moody for neglect;
An idle rogue, who spends his quarterage
In tippling at the Dog and Partridge;
And I can hardly get him down
Three times a week to brush my gown,
RICHMOND LODGE

I pity you, dear Marble Hill;
But hope to see you flourish still.
All happiness--and so adieu.
MARBLE HILL

Kind Richmond Lodge; the same to you.