TO GOLDSMITH'S COMEDY OF 'THE GOOD-NATURED MAN,' 1769.
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ress'd by the load of life, the weary mindSurveys the general toil of human kind;With cool submission joins the labouring train,And social sorrow loses half its pain.Our anxious bard without complaint may shareThis bustling season's epidemic care;Like Caesar's pilot, dignified by Fate,Toss'd in one common storm with all the great;Distress'd alike the statesman and the wit,When one the borough courts, and one the pit. 10The busy candidates for power and fameHave hopes, and fears, and wishes just the same;Disabled both to combat, or to fly,Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply.Unchecked, on both loud rabbles vent their rage,As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.The offended burgess hoards his angry tale,For that blest year when all that vote may rail.Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss,Till that glad night when all that hate may hiss. 20 'This day the powder'd curls and golden coat,'Says swelling Crispin, 'begg'd a cobbler's vote;''This night our wit,' the pert apprentice cries,'Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies.'The great, 'tis true, can charm the electing tribe,The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe.Yet, judged by those whose voices ne'er were sold,He feels no want of ill-persuading gold;But confident of praise, if praise be due,Trusts without fear to merit and to you. 30 * * * * *
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