Original - Duke Divinity School

Graved in your Bosom let his Image dwell,
Great while he stood, but Greater when he fell.
Fearless, Serene, he look’d on danger nigh;
Let Harcourt double, and let Saint-John fly.
Against the Storm he turn’d his steady face,
And scorn’d the shelter of an Act of Grace.
Let Whigs by mean retreat their gains ensure,
Conscious they need the Pardons they procure.
’Twas vain, O G[eorge], that mercy to refuse
Which Harley could not want and would not use;
T’ except his name who, faithful to thy line,
Amongst the British kings inserted Thine!
What prince so Vast a Benefit would own?
Thou couldst not pardon— for he gave thy Crown!
Fairly rewarded He, to death pursued:
O Glorious Act of G[erma]n Gratitude!
To greet their ppower how nobly you disdain’d
Who strove with Oxford’s murder to be stain’d!
To G[eorge], with supple Fawnings, scorn to bow;
Persist—remember you are Oxford now.
Faithful, but never cringing, to the Crown,
Forgive his Father, not forget your own.
The Quidnunki’s; a Tale
Occasioned by the Death of the Regent of France 119
“How vain are Mortal Man’s Endeavours!”
Said, at St James’s, 120 Master Trevors.
“Good Orleans dead! in Truth ’tis hard:”
“Oh! may all Statesmen die prepar’d!”
I do foresee (and for Fore-seeing
119 John Gay, “The Quidnunki’s,” in Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift, eds., Miscellanies in Prose and
Verse, 2 nd edition (Dublin: Samuel Fairbrother, 1728), 2:130–31.
120 Gay: “Dame Elliott’s”
66