How various and innumerable Are those who live upon the rabble! 'Tis they maintain the Church and State, Employ the priest and magistrate; Bear all the charge of government, And pay the public fines and rent; Defray all taxes and excises, And impositions of all prices; Bear all th' expense of peace and war, And pay the pulpit and the bar; Maintain all churches and religions, And give their pastors exhibitions; And those who have the greatest flocks Are primitive and orthodox; Support all schismatics and sects, And pay them for tormenting texts; Take all their doctrines off their hands, And pay 'em in good rents and lands; Discharge all costly offices, The doctor's and the lawyer's fees, The hangman's wages, and the scores Of caterpillar bawds and whores; Discharge all damages and costs Of Knights and Squires of the Post; All statesmen, cut-purses, and padders, And pay for all their ropes and ladders; All pettifoggers, and all sorts Of markets, churches, and of courts; All sums of money paid or spent, With all the charges incident, Laid out, or thrown away, or given To purchase this world, Hell or Heaven. THE CHAMELEON. MATTHEW PRIOR. As the Chameleon who is known To have no colors of its own: But borrows from his neighbor's hue His white or black, his green or blue; And struts as much in ready light, Which credit gives him upon sight: As if the rainbow were in tail Settled on him, and his heirs male; So the young squire, when first he comes From country school to Will or Tom's: And equally, in truth is fit To be a statesman or a wit; Without one notion of his own, He saunters wildly up and down; Till some acquaintance, good or bad, Takes notice of a staring lad; Admits him in among the gang: They jest, reply, dispute, harangue; He acts and talks, as they befriend him, Smear'd with the colors which they lend him, Thus merely, as his fortune chances, His merit or his vice advances. If haply he the sect pursues, That road and comment upon news; He takes up their mysterious face: He drinks his coffee without lace. This week his mimic tongue runs o'er What they have said the week before; His wisdom sets all Europe right, And teaches Marlborough when to fight. Or if it be his fate to meet With folks who have more wealth than wit He loves cheap port, and double bub; And settles in the hum-drum club: He earns how stocks will fall or rise; Holds poverty the greatest vice; Thinks wit the bane of conversation; And says that learning spoils a nation. But if, at first, he minds his hits, And drinks champagne among the wits! Five deep he toasts the towering lasses; Repeats you verses wrote on glasses; Is in the chair; prescribes the law; And lies with those he never saw. MERRY ANDREW. MATTHEW PRIOR.