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BY

CHARLES CHURCHILL.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY W. GRIFFIN;

For JOHN CHURCHILL (Executor of CHARLES
CHURCHILL) and WILLIAM FLEXNEY, near
Grays-Inn Gate, Holborn.

MDCCLXV.

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THE

DEDICATIO N.

TEALTH to great GLOSTER-from a man

HEA

unknown,

Who holds thy health as dearly as his own,
Accept this greeting-nor let modeft fear
Call up one maiden blufh-I mean not here
To wound with flatt'ry-'tis a Villain's art,
And fuits not with the franknefs of my heart.
Truth best becomes an Orthodox Divine,
And, fpite of hell, that Character is mine;
To fpeak e'en bitter truths I cannot fear;
But truth, my Lord, is Panegyric here.

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Health to great GLOSTER-nor, thro' love of ease, Which all Priests love, let this address displease. I ask no favour, not one note I crave,

And, when this bufy brain refts in the grave, (For till that time it never can have rest)

I will not trouble you with one bequest.
Some humbler Friend, my mortal journey done,
More near in blood, a Nephew or a Son,

In that dread hour Executor I'll leave;

For I, alas! have many to receive,

To give but little-To great GLOSTER Health;
Nor let thy true and proper love of wealth
Here take a falfe alarm-in purfe though poor,
In spirit I'm right proud, nor can endure
The mention of a bribe-thy pocket's free,
I, tho' a Dedicator, fcorn a fee.

Let thy own offspring all thy fortunes share ;
I would not ALLEN rob, nor ALLEN's heir.

Think not, a Thought unworthy thy great foul, Which pomps of this world never could controul, Which never offer'd up at Pow'r's vain shrine, Think not that Pomp and Pow'r can work on mine. 'Tis not thy Name, though that indeed is great, 'Tis not the tinfel trumpery of state,

'Tis

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