Hobson's choice a poem in answer to The choice / written by a Person of quality. Person of quality. 1700 Approx. 8 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2004-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A44028 Wing H2278 ESTC R40993 19542708 ocm 19542708 109103 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A44028) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 109103) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1689:33) Hobson's choice a poem in answer to The choice / written by a Person of quality. Person of quality. Brown, Thomas, 1663-1704. 8 p. Printed and sold by John Nutt ..., London : M DCC [1700] "Attributed to Thomas Brown in Wrenn Catalogue"--NUC pre-1956 imprints. "The choice" was written by John Pomfret. Reproduction of original in the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign Campus). Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Pomfret, John, 1667-1702. -- Choice. 2004-01 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2004-02 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-03 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2004-03 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-04 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Hobson's Choice . A POEM , IN ANSWER TO THE CHOICE , Written by a Person of Quality . LONDON : Printed , and Sold by Iohn Nutt , ne●● Stationers-Hall . M. DCC . Hobson's Choice . A POEM . SInce Heaven denies us liberty of Choice , Why should a Man ( for God-sake ) make a noise ? I 'll never whine into a Golden Wish , Nor labour after Flying Happiness : Nor take the pains to Curse my backward Fate , Or to the Goddess Fortune doff my Hat : But if my Fate do's lend me Breath so long , To make an end of this Authentick Song , You 'll hear it ; or if not , I 'll hold my Tongue . For 't is a Jest to Rail at adverse Fate , A Wise Man's Merry , do's Congratulate , And will Enjoy himself in Every State. If He be doom'd to Knighthood , or a Gown , It does affect his Heel's , but not his Crown : For why should he have Windmills in his Head , Because the Bishop , or the King , has said , Rise up Sir Richard , or Hey-jingo Priest Appear , and shew the World a New-made Vest ? Prelates and Princes too are oft mistaken ; 'T is not what They , but what One's self does make One. Then should a Wise Man mind the random Talk , Of those Iocose and Elevated Folk , And so be bubbled of his Native Will , By which he is just what he would be still ? Fantastique Fortune may do what she can , She 'll leave me as she finds me , still a Man ; Or if she please to let me but alone , I shall be Hobson then , and that 's all one : And tho' she most Delights to make us Apes , And gives us every Day New several Shapes ; Nicknames us Lords , and Citts , and Mountebanks , And makes us play abroad her sensless Pranks , A Wise Man knows himself still under all , And ne'er forgets his true Original : The Man Appears beneath the Ass's Skin ; And Fortune wears without , himself within . But what if froward Fortune looks awry ? Why , if she be Cross-grain'd , e'en so she may . What Man of S 〈…〉 would care a Straw for that ? 〈…〉 ur than her Hate ? If I deserve her Friendship , she 's to blame , And the Reproach Asperses most the Dame. For who that sees a Muse's Son in Rags , That up and down in Rime for Vittle begs , Do's not with utmost Indignation say , Fortune 's a Iade , but He 's an honest Boy ? This Dons , and Men of Quality , will own , Who Buy his Wit , because themselves have None . Mean time the Bard reels on , and ne'er Reflects , His Poverty his Liberty Protects . And well he knows 't were Mad in him to Wish , For Country Seats , or Landed Happiness ; That Prayer would ne'er obtain among the Gods ; For 't were enough to set the Stars at Odds. His Planet governs with a Liberal force , And unrestrain'd , abides no stated Course , But freely all about the Sky it reels , As he below its merry Influence feels . By Heaven , I 'd rather be just what I am , Plain Hobson , than be painted with the Sham Appearance of the Gaudy Fortunate , Who have less Happiness , and more Crevat . For Happiness would be a Paradox , If 't were Enjoyed alike by Wits and Blocks . But Various Men pursue the Various Notion Of Happiness , according to the Portion They have of Sense , which is the Gift of Fate , And not to be inferr'd from an Estate , No more than Wisdom from a broad-brim'd Hat. And yet it is the ardent wish of One , That was , belike , both Bred and Born in Town , O that hard by I had a private Seat , Fine as my Hopes , as my Ambition Great , That all the Town might come and hear me Bleat , And make new Wishes for a fresh Retreat . So Wishes still vain Wishes must succeed , And those again beget an Endless Breed , And all at last must stray without a Head ; For who that has that Engine on his Neck , Whose heft do's not the weak Supporter break , Would ever Ramble from himself so far , And what he has not here , to hunt for there ? As if when he his Wench and Stream had found , His Happiness would not in both be drown'd : For who can bound the Cravings of his Thought , When it exceeds the brims of what he 's got ? The Fancied Ground-plot , and the Flowing Stream , Content him better as they are his Theam , Than if he view'd his disappointed Face in them . Then home recall thy Wandring Thoughts agen , Make that their Mansion which was once their Den : There let them form Domestick Happiness , With less Applause , but with much more Success , And with inverted Wit the Poet truly Bless . For I 'm the happy Man , when all is said , Who live at Home , my House upon my Head ; Who never lengthen to a foreign Wish , But size my Porrage always to my Dish ; And unaffected both with Time and Place , Behold th' uneven World with even Face . Instant Fruition Cheers my aged Pate , And Marks of Plenty shine upon my Hat. Tho' l 'm not Rich , I have the Ready Mess , To stop my Mouth , e'er Gutts are in distress : Not that I tune my Speculative Brain , Just to the Croacking of their Grosser Strain : But if they Cry aloud , I 've Bread and Cheese , And they shall hold their Peace for such as these . Custard , and Nicer Diet , I forbid , And Sacred Pies unviolated Lid. When Supper 's done , I never Dream of want For times to come , Times which I also ha'n't ; But in the Corner when I 've sat a while , Pleas'd with my self , I give the World a smile , Then my own Pace away I go to Bed , Stretch my self out , and Sleep as I were Dead . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A44028-e100 The Choice , P. 3. P. 3. and 6.