Classic Poem

In Imitation of long Verses:

In an Epistle to W — — m P — — tt, Esq;

Since one hath writ,
To thee, O P-tt!
Whom none can know,
If friend or foe;
Deign to smile on,
Lank Ly-tl-on:
For tho his lays,
May squint two ways;
They're meant for praise.

Sir Bob to hang,
Thou didst harangue,
While he in joke,
The cornet broke.

But Hal now flatter'd,
Then whipp'd, then spatter'd,
With fear full fraught,
Thy favour bought:
The Patriot ends,
And ye are friends,
Like Caesar He,
As Tully was, to Thee.

As when much tir'd,
In roads bemir'd,
Men see by night
A fairy-light,
Which they pursue
With eager view;
In hope to win
A friendly inn;
But by mistake,
In some foul lake
Surpriz'd they're flung,
Of mud or dung,
From whence the Meteor sprung.
So far'd the crew,
Who follow'd you :

Or as a maid,
On back first laid,
By dire mishap
She gains a c — p:

Such was your case,
Scarce warm in place,
Desil'd all o'er,
An errant whore,
You chang'd your stile,
Thou turn coat vile.

What, still refrain
From long-sought gain?
Still to entice
A higher price?
No, no, my P-tt!
Once near being bit,
Did not the band
Their k — g withstand;
And bring him low,
As king cou'd go?
Tho' France did threat
The royal feat;
Tho' rebels dire
Spread sword and fire;
Careless of all
That could befall
The crown or realm,
They quit the helm;
Cabal, combine,
Revile, resign;
One, one and all,
From London Wall,
To P — m cock-crower of Whitehall.

Then go, my boy!
No more be coy,
Go, force your way
To c — rt for play!
Nor fear for shame
Should now reclaim;
Courtier or patriot, thou art still the same.

Our col'nels all
For the loud call,
By all I mean
The great fourteen ;
Like thee large-soul'd,
Despising gold.
These never ran
From Preston's-Pan,
Nor did they yield
Base Falkirk's field;
Far, far from both,
To sight full loth,
They will not go
To lye in snow,
Till William's blade
Hath got thy tongue for aid.

Hibernia, smile!
Thrice happy isle!
On thy blest ground,
Twelve thousand pound,
For Stan — pe's found;
Three thousand clear,
For P-tt, a year,
So shalt thou thrive,
Industrious hive;
While these and more
Increase thy store.
Thrice envy'd land!
Reserv'd to pay Britannia's patriot band,

Sunk in the West,
As in the East;
For all allow
Thou art sunk now;
Yet soon, when near
The royal ear,
Thou with such things
Shalt sooth our k — gs,
As gain'd huzzas,
Of loud applause,
From Syd — am glad,
And Ca — w mad;
Then shall for war
The Dutch declare.
Then we the Russ
Shall meet and buss.

Then, then shall France
Fall in a trance.
Then, then shall Spain
Yield to thy strain.
None, from that hour,
Shall envy power,
In high degree
Of Majesty,
When P-tt a minister shall be.