On Mr. Pulteney's[1] Being Put Out Of The Council.

Sir Robert,[2] wearied by Will Pulteney's teasings,     Who interrupted him in all his leasings,     Resolved that Will and he should meet no more,     Full in his face Bob shuts the council door;     Nor lets him sit as justice on the bench,     To punish thieves, or lash a suburb wench.     Yet still St. Stephen's chapel open lies     For Will to enter - What shall I advise?     Ev'n quit the house, for thou too long hast sat in't,     Produce at last thy dormant ducal patent;     There near thy master's throne in shelter placed,     Let Will, unheard by thee, his thunder waste;     Yet still I fear your work is done but half,     For while he keeps his pen you are not safe.         Hear an old fable, and a dull one too;     It bears a moral when applied to you.         A hare had long escaped pursuing hounds,     By often shifting into distant grounds;     Till, finding all his artifices vain,     To save his life he leap'd into the main.     But there, alas! he could no safety find,     A pack of dogfish had him in the wind.     He scours away; and, to avoid the foe,     Descends for shelter to the shades below:     There Cerberus lay watching in his den,     (He had not seen a hare the lord knows when.)     Out bounced the mastiff of the triple head;     Away the hare with double swiftness fled;     Hunted from earth, and sea, and hell, he flies     (Fear lent him wings) for safety to the skies.     How was the fearful animal distrest!     Behold a foe more fierce than all the rest:     Sirius, the swiftest of the heavenly pack,     Fail'd but an inch to seize him by the back.     He fled to earth, but first it cost him dear;     He left his scut behind, and half an ear.         Thus was the hare pursued, though free from guilt;     Thus, Bob, shall thou be maul'd, fly where thou wilt.     Then, honest Robin, of thy corpse beware;     Thou art not half so nimble as a hare:     Too ponderous is thy bulk to mount the sky;     Nor can you go to Hell before you die.     So keen thy hunters, and thy scent so strong,     Thy turns and doublings cannot save thee long.[3]