Classic Poem

1
The Doctor and Dean, Pope, Parnell and Gay
In manner submissive most humbly do pray,
That your Lordship would once let your cares all alone
And climb the dark stairs to your friends who have none:
To your friends who at least have no cares but to please you
To a good honest Junta that never will tease you.

From the Doctor's chamber,
past eight.
2

Let not the Whigs our Tory club rebuke;
Give us our Earl, the devil take their Duke.
Quaedam quae attinent ad Scriblerum,
Want your assistance now to clear 'em.
One day it will be no disgrace,
In 'Scribler' to have had a place.
Come then, my Lord, and take your part in
The important History of Martin.
3

My Lord, foresake your politic utopians,
To sup, like Jove, with blameless Ethiopians.

Pope.
In other words, you with the staff,
Leave John of Bucks, come here and laugh.

Dean.
For frolic mirth give o'er affairs of state,
Tonight be happy, be tomorrow great.

Parnell.
Give clans your money, us your smile,
Your scorn to Townshend and Argyll.

Doctor.
Leave courts, and hie to simple swains,
Who feed no flock upon no plains.

Gay.
4

A pox of all senders
For any pretenders
Who tell us these troublesome stories,
In their dull humdrum key
Of 'arma virumque
Hannoniae qui primus ab oris . . .'

A fig too for Hanmer
Who prates like his grande mere,
And all his old friends would rebuke
In spite of the carle
Give us but our Earl,
And the devil may take their Duke.

Then come and take part in
The Memoirs of Martin,
Lay by your white staff and grey habit,
For trust us, friend Mortimer,
Should you live years forty more
Haec olim meminisse juvabit.