Hail! Minister, by Paradoxes great!
Proceeds it from thy Genius or thy Fate?
Courtier compleat, with Manners unpolite;
Without thy Prince's Love, a Favourite;
Not eloquent, though voluble of Tongue,
And thy first Honours from Corruption sprung;
From Ruin and Distress advanc'd to Power;
From Goal to Court, the Creature of an Hour;
Hated by Each, and yet upheld by All;
Hooted in Streets, applauded in the Hall;
By giving, Rich; still able to supply
Fresh Credit to each Want and every Lye;
French Treaties, padlock'd Swords and tame Campaigns,
(Thy Measures now) were Crimes in former Reigns;
What then was constrn'd Treason by our Laws,
Is now thy Glory, and demands Applause;
If Thou art easy, who dares feel his Pain?
'Tis bold to sigh; Rebellion to complain--
Ev'n Publick Debts transform themselves to Gain.

The Change that seem'd to force Thee from the Stage,
To sue for Shelter from the People's Rage,
Pye--ball'd with Dirt and Glory, brought Thee on,
And turn'd thy Sanctuary to a Throne.

Say mighty W---, are we to adore
Thy Stars or Genius, never match'd before?