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Scriv'ners Attorneys Bankers are his Train,
The Miser's Equipage, the Orphans Bane.
A narrow Soul amidst the boundless Store,
Who shuns the Wretch, that dares be Just and Poor;
Who Charity and Virtue but esteems
As the Priests Cant, and empty moral Names.
But Factious Zeal sometimes Dilates his Breast,
Nor will the Niggard grudge a flowing Feast,
To Mould the Stern Freeholders to his Hand,
Awe their Elections, and their Votes Command.
But where's the end of this immod'rate Toil?
To make a Puny Girl a Golden Spoil.
Last rose Bathillo, deck'd with borrow'd Bays,
Renown'd for others Projects, others Lays.
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