In short, I'm perfectly content, Let me but live on this side Trent; 30 Nor cross the Channel twice a-year, To spend six months with statesmen here. I must by all means come to town, 'Tis for the service of the crown. 'Lewis, the Dean will be of use, Send for him up, take no excuse.' The toil, the danger of the seas; Great ministers ne'er think of these; Or let it cost five hundred pound, No matter where the money's found, 40 It is but so much more in debt, And that they ne'er consider'd yet. 'Good Mr Dean, go change your gown, Let my lord know you're come to town.' I hurry me in haste away, Not thinking it is levee-day; And find his honour in a pound, Hemm'd by a triple circle round, Checquer'd with ribbons blue and green: How should I thrust myself between? 50 Same wag observes me thus perplex'd, And smiling, whispers to the next, 'I thought the Dean had been too proud, To jostle here among a crowd.' Another in a surly fit, Tells me I have more zeal than wit, 'So eager to express your love, You ne'er consider whom you shove, But rudely press before a duke.' I own, I'm pleased with this rebuke, 60 And take it kindly meant to show What I desire the world should know. I get a whisper, and withdraw; When twenty fools I never saw Come with petitions fairly penn'd, Desiring I would stand their friend. This, humbly offers me his case-- That, begs my interest for a place-- A hundred other men's affairs, Like bees, are humming in my ears. 70 'To-morrow my appeal comes on, Without your help the cause is gone'-- The duke expects my lord and you, About some great affair, at two-- 'Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, To get my warrant quickly sign'd: Consider, 'tis my first request.'-- Be satisfied, I'll do my best: Then presently he falls to tease, 'You may for certain, if you please; 80 I doubt not, if his lordship knew-- And, Mr Dean, one word from you'-- 'Tis (let me see) three years and more, (October next it will be four) Since Harley bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble friend; Would take me in his coach to chat, And question me of this and that; As, 'What's o'clock?' and, 'How's the wind?' 'Who's chariot's that we left behind?' 90 Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the country signs; Or, 'Have you nothing new to-day From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay?' Such tattle often entertains My lord and me as far as Staines, As once a week we travel down To Windsor, and again to town, Where all that passes, _inter nos_, Might be proclaim'd at Charing Cross. 100