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THE TOASTS OF THE RUMP-STEAK CLUB
London: Printed and Sold by the Booksellers of Ondon and Westminster. 1734
(Price Sixpence)
The Toasts of the Rump-Steak Club
Prologue.
Such is the List of our Heroick Fair,
Unhappy W------ read it, and despair :
In this united shining Band behold
Charms ev'n superior to thy Potent Gold:
And win those Hearts, that Virtue could not gain.
Cease then to hope that Fortune's partial Hand
Will long support thy insolent Command:
Thou canst not stem the Nation's swelling Tide,
With all the Weight of Beauty on its Side.
1. The Duchess of Queensberry.
Fair Patroness of Wit and Liberty,
Whose bright Example taught us to be Free!
Banish'd from Courts, amidst this Circle reign,
No false, no servile, no corrupted Train:
Here free-born Britions shall they Empire boast,
And Foes to W--------- emulate their Toast.
2. The Duchess of Marlborough.
Tell me no more of Youth, this Glass shall boast
An old, immortal, undecaying Toast!
In the quick Lustre of whose piercing Eye
Still shine the beautous Sparks of Liberty:
Whose Spirit undepress'd by Fourscore Years,
Except for England's Safety, knows no Fears;
From whonm a Race of Toasts and Patriots came
England shall pledge me, when I Marlb'rough name.
3. Lady Hervey.
Wheile Wit or Beauty boast a Charm,
While That can strike, or This can warm,
Vivacity of Mind, or Feature,
Or Elegance of Art, or Nature,
Sweet Hervey's Name shall glad the Board:
I mean my Lady -- not my Lord.
4. Lady Robert Walpole.
When once the Kit-Kat could a W------ boast,
He was a Whig, and Madam was a Toast:
Now he's Sir R------t, she past Twenty One,
The Whig and Toast are both for ever gone!
5. Young Lady W------e.
Go, sprightly Rolles, go, travel Earth and Sea,
And fly the Land where Beauty is not free.
By your own Wealth enslav'd to one you hate,
Mourn not your own, but think on Britains Fate.
Life may be welcome on some happier Shore,
Where not a W----- shall approach thee more.
6. Lady Denbigh.
W------ this Charge to Noble Denbigh gave,
Or quit your Pension, Peer, or be a Slave;
And take what Monarchs cannot give thee, Fame.
But Freedom and Frugality are our.
To denbigh's Heroine Let the Bowl flow round,
With Belgian, Spartan, Roman Virtue crown'd.
7. Lady Wallace.
Thou Patriot Dame, whose gen'rous Bosom shares
More than its Part in all thy Country's Cares;
Whose Female Softness gives thy Virtues Grace;
Whose Manly Virtues dignify thy Face,
The dying Spark of Liberty restore,
Bid us be what thy Wallace was before.
Let all our Patriots catch thy Heav'nly Fire,
And act the Virtues, that thy Eyes inspire.
Thy Smiles, distinguishing the Free and the Brave,
Shall scorn a Conquest, where they find a Slave.
Thy nobler Ribbans shall adorn Disgrace,
Thy Breast to Merit give a Happier Place:
Thou and thy Viture ev'ry Heart inflame,
Till Love and Publick Spirit be the fame.
8. Duchess of Manchester.
Thou fairest Pallas of the British Isle,
Unbend thy haughty Brow, and deign to smile;
Contemn, like her, the Charms of Soft Desire,
O come, if not to warm us, to inspire.
No little Loves possess thy Patriot Heart,
The Love of Britain reigns in ev'ry Part;
Nor ought thy scorn'd Admirers to complain,
The noble Rival justifies Disdain.
9. Duchess of Bedford.
Thou blooming Offspring of great Marlb'rough's Line,
Propitious on the Patriot Virtues shine,
Make the fair Cause of Liberty they own;
'Till Hirelings blush their gilded Bonds to own;
'Till humble Tools to Greatness, Slaves in Place,
Shall envy the Wise Pride of free Disgrace:
So thy resistless, all-restoring Charms
May emulate thy brave Forefathers Arms;
Who by that Spirit warm'd, which glows in thee,
Ne'er triumph'd, but to set the Nation free.
10. Countess of Burlington.
W----- may give himself strange Airs,
But sure he'll find it hard to spoil
The Wit and Sense of one, that bears
The Name of Saville and of Boyle.
While Juno's Air, or Pallas' Arts,
Engage our Homage or Applause,
With Burlington all Heads and Hearts
Shall lift in Freedom's glorious Cause.
11. Miss Barnard.
O Sprung from Barnard, London's proudest Boast,
Tho' with his Praises thine can ne'er be lost;
Yet with these Patriots here enroll thy Name,
And with thy Beauty grace thy Father's Fame.
12. Miss Fowler.
Bacchus crown the swelling Bowl.
Raise the Patriot's generous Soul,
While the Muses lead along
Fowler to this lovely Throng.
13. Miss Delmé.
Let Sense, let Virtue and Discerning Taste
United shine on Fame's bright Volume plac'd,
Then shall thy Praise, unrival'd Delmé, last;
Long as the Sturdy Beggars shall be priz'd,
Long as the Sordid Pensioner despis'd;
As long as Freedom loathes th' Excise, and Shame,
With Curses brands the baffled Author's Name!
14. Mrs. Cantillion.
Illustrious Sons of Liberty and Wit,
Amid Resentment o'er your Country's Woe,
Awhile the gentle Aid of Mirth admit,
And to Cantillion bid the Goblet flow.
15. Miss Jenny Johnson, Niece to Sir J. Barneard.
Since, in this Circle of the Brave and Great,
Thou, Heav'n-born Freedom, hast assum'd thy Seat,
Sweet-smiling Venus shall thy Presence grace,
As Johnson's Charms command the sparking Glass.
16. Peggy Hays.
Unequall'd C----, say what matchless Dame
Shall with thy Glass the free-born Mind inflame?
For thee, untaught in Flattery, the Muse
Shall from the blooming Train of Venus chuse
Beauty with Freedom, with Politeness Truth,
Soft with each Grace, and gay with flow'ry Youths,
Hays, in the tenderest Musick of my Lyre,
Which Love alone, and Liberty inspire,
I bear to thee, Great Minister of Fame,
And, O ye Patriots, consecrate the Name.
EPILOGUE.
When Sinon with Success his Wiles employe'd,
And Troy by evil Counsels was destroy'd"
When into every House and Tenement
Rapacious Grecians, like Excisemen, went:
When every Guardian God his Charge for sook,
Venus alone the Trojan Party took,
And kindly sought from servile Bonds to save
A chosen Remnant of the Just and Brave,
From whom should rise a Nation Free and Great,
The future Glories of the Roman State.
Thus, gentle Venus, Guardian of our Isle,
On this thy faithful Band of Patriots smile:
Thou, and thy lovely Train their Breasts inspire
With Virtures such as Englands' Wants require.
Beneath thy soft Protection may we grow
Superior to each false, each Traitor Foe,
And raise our drooping Country, till her Fame
Shall match the Troja, or the Roman Name.
FINIS.
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