The Statesman

What statesman, what hero, what king,
Whose name thro' the island is spread,
Will you choose, oh, my Clio, to sing,
Of all the great living, or dead?

Go, my muse, from this place to Japan,
In search of a topic for rhyme;
The great Earl of Bath is the man
Who deserves to employ your whole time.

But, howe'er, as the subject is nice,
And perhaps you're unfurnish'd with matter,
May it please you to take my advice.
That you mayn't be suspected to flatter.

When you touch on his Lordship's high birth,
Speak Latin as if you were tipsy,
Say, we all are the sons of the earth,
Et genus non fecimus ipsi.

Proclaim him as rich as a Jew,
Yet attempt not to reckon his bounties;
You may say, he is married — that's true—
Yet speak not a word of his Countess.

Leave a blank here and there in each page,
To enrol the fair deeds of his youth!
When you mention the acts of his age,
Leave a blank for his — honour and truth.

Say he made a great monarch change hands;
He spake, and the minister fell;
Say he made a great statesman of Sandys;—
O that he had taught him to spell!

Then enlarge on his cunning and wit.
Say how he harangued at the Fountain:
Say how the old Patriots were bit,
And a mouse was produced by a mountain.

Then say how he mark'd the new year
By increasing our taxes and stocks;
Then say how he changed to a Peer,
Fit companion for Edgcumbe and Fox.