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! But my lord Bolingbrokc in mind

A batter'd, shatter'd ath bedread; “ io vei mny warrant quickly fign'd:

A box of deal, without a li; “ Consider, 'tis my fi it requcft.'

A pair of tongs, but our of juict; Be fatised, I'll do my best.

A lack-sword poker, without point; Then prefen ly he falls to teaze :

A pnt that's crack'd across, around “ You may for certain, if you picase;

With an old knotted garter bound; "I doubt not, if his lord thi kien

An iron lock, without : key ; “ And, Mr. Dean, one word from you--" A wig, with hanging quite gown gres;

'Tis (let me fee) three years and more A curtain worn to half - firipe; (October next it will be four)

A pair of beilows, witho'itie; Since Harley bid me fiift attend,

A dith which might gond incat afford once; And chose me for an humelc friend;

An Ovid, and an oid Conco:dance; Would take me in his coach to chat,

A bottle-bottoin, worden platter,
Acd quelton me of this and that;

One is for meal, and one for water:
As,“ it'hat's o'clock;"and, - How's the wind" | There likewise is a co; per iaillet,
“ W'hose chariot's that we left behind :" Which runs as fult out as you fill it;
Or gravely tiy to read the lines

A candlestick, snuff Hith, and save-all :
Writ underneath the country ligns:

And thus his household goods tou have all Or, “ Have you nothing new to-day

These to your Lordship, as a end, “ From Pope, from Parnell, or Gay :" Till you have built, I freely I rd: Such ta'tle often cnucrtains

They'll serve your Lordihip for a fhift;
My lord and me as far as Staines,

Why not, as well as Doctor Stift:
As once a week we travel down
To Windfor, and again to town,

s 30. An Elegy on the Death of Drama Where all that partes inter nos

Ulurer, who died the eth of July
Might be proclaiin'd at Charing-cross,
Y cr fome I know with evv swell,

NOW all men, by these pretents, Death me

KN Because t cy see me us'd so well.

By mortgage hath secur'd the corpse of Denmara “ How think you of our friend the Dean. Nor can four hundred thoutand fterling pound “ I wonder what some people mean!

Redeem him from his priso, under grour!. My iord and he are grown 10 great,

His heirs might well, of all his wealin poftzli's, Always together, it'te-à-tête :

Beltow to bury him one iron chest. “ Wirar! they admire him for his jokes ? Plutus the god of wealth will joy to know “ Sce but the fortune of some folks!"

His faithful steward's in the shades below. There fies about a strange report

He walk'd the streets, and wore a thread bare elcik; Of some exp.ess arriv'd at court :

He din’d and supp'd at charge of other folk; I'm stopp d by all the fools I


And by his looks, hd he held out his palms, And catechis'd in ev'ry street.

He might be thought an object fit for alms. “ You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great;

So, to the poor ifi e refus'd his pelf, “ Inform us, will the Emperor tieat?

He us’d them full as kindly as himtelf. “ Or do the prints and papers lye :'

Where'er he went, he never saw his betters; Faith, Sir, you know as much as I.

Lords, knights, and squires, were all his humble “ Ali, Docior, how you love to jeft!

debtors; “ 'Tis now no secret."-1 protest

And under hand and seal the Irish nation 'Tis one to me.-" Then tell us, pray,

Were forc'd to own to him their obligation. “ When are the ti oops to have their pay?" He that could once have !.alf a kingdom bought, And, though I folemnly declare

In half a minute is nor worth a groat. I know no more than my lord mayor,

His coffers from the coffin could not save, They fand amaz'd, and think me grown Nor all his interest keep him from the grate. The cloruit inortal ever known.

A golden monument could not be right, T:15, in a sea of flly roft,

Because we wish the earth upon him light. My choccft hours of life are lost i

O London tavern *! thou haft loft a friend, Yer always withior to retreat,

Though in thy walls he ne'er did farthing speed: O could I see my count y-feat!

He touch'd the pence, w'un others touch'd hea! There, leaning near a gentle brook,


hand tiliatfign'd the mortgage paid the tica Sleep, or perute fome ancient book;

Old as he was, no vu.gar known diieafe And there in fwcet oblivion drown

On him could ever boast a pow'r to seize; Those cares that hount the court and town,

" † But, as he weigh'd his gold, grim Death A True und Fruitiofret Inventory of the Caft in his dart, which made three moiderei Gords belonging to Dr. Szift, Vicar of Lara

light; pon leading his Houle io ibe Bishop of And, as he saw his darling money fail, Diats, tik bis Piace atas chuilt.

• Blew Fis last breath to fink the lighter scale." A leben, broken clbow-chair;

He who lo long was current, 'would be forange duudlc-cup wirhout 11. car;

If he should now Le cried down since his change. * s lavern in Duilia, where Demar kept his office. † These feur lines were written by Selke

“ jn spite

§ 29.


Sheridan. 1723.

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The sexton shall green fods on thee bestow; And round this garden is a walk, Alas, the fcxton is thy banker now !

No longer than a taylor's chalk ; A disnal banker must that banker be,

Thus I compare what space is in it, Who gives no bills but of mortality.

A snail creeps round it in a minute.

One lettuce makes a fhift to squeeze § 31. Epitapo on a Mifer,

Up through a tuft you call your trces

And, once a year, a single rose
BENEATH this verdant hillock lies

Peeps from the bud, but never blows;
Demar, the wealthy and the wile,
His heirs, that he might f fely rest,

In vain ther you expect its bloom!

It cannot blow for want of room. Have

put bis cari ale in a chett; The very creti in wiich, they fay,

In short, in all your boasted fcat,
His other fe:f, his money, lay.

There's nothing but yourfelf that's gicat,
And, if his heirs continue kind
To that dear self he left behind,

$ 34. Mary the Cook-Maid's Letter to Dr. I dare believe that four in five Will think his better half alive.

WELL, if ever I saw fuch another man since

my mother bound my head !

You a gentleman! marry come up! I wonder To Mrs. Houz błon of Bormount, upon

where you were bred.

[cloth; praising ber Husband to Dr. Swifi. I'm sure such werds do not become a man of your You always are making a Ciud of your fpouf : I would not give tuch language to a dog, faith and But :


[ridan ! 'tis a shame Perhaps you will say, 'uis in gratitude due,

Yes, you call’d my master a knave: fic, Mr. SheAnd you adore him becaule lie adores you.

For a parson, who should know better things, to Your argument's weak, and fo you will find;

come out with such a name. you, by this rule, must adore ail mankind.

Knave in your teeth, Mr. Sheridan! 'tis both a

Thame and a fin; [you and all your hin: Dr. Detany's Villa.

And the Dean, my master, is an honeíter man than WOULD you that Delville I defcribe?

He has more goodness in his little finger than you Believe me, Sir, I will not jibe :

have in your whole body: For who would be satirical

My matter is a perfonable man, and not a spindleUpon a thing to very small ?

Thank'd hoddy-doddy. [excuse, You icarce upon thu borders enter,

And now, whereby I find you would fain makcan Before you're at the very centre.

Because my master one day, in anger, call'd you A single crow can make it night,

goole , When o'er your farm she takes her flight: Which, and I am sure I have been his servant four Yet, in this narrow compass, we


since October, Obferve a vast variety ;

And he never call'd me worse than fiveet-heart, Both walks, walls, meadows, and parterres,

drunk or fober:

(to my knowledge, Windows and doors, and rooms and stairs, Not that I know his reverence was ever cunccrn'd And hills and dales, and woods and fields, Though you and your come-rogues kcep him out And hay, and grafs, and corn, it yields ;

fo late in your college. [eat grass! All to your haggard brought fo cheap in, You fay you will eat grass on his grave: a christian Without the mowing or the reaping :

Whereby you now confess yourself to be a goose A razor, though to lay't I'm loth,

or an ass:

[die before ve; Would Have you and your meadows both. But that's as much as to say, that my master thouid

Though small's the farm, yet here's a house Well, well, that's as God plealcs; and I don't Full large to entertain a mouse;

bclieve that's a true story: But where a rat is dreaded more

And so fay I told you fo, and you may go tell my Than favage Caledonian boar;

mafter, what care I ?

[Mary. For, if it's enter'd by a rat,

And I don't care who knows it; 'tis all one to There is no roon to bring a cat.

Every body knows that I love to tell truth, and A little rivuler seems to steal

thame the devil;

[fhould be civil. Down through a thing you call a yale,

I am but a poor servant, but I think gentlcfolks Like tears adown a wrinkled check,

Besides, you found fault with our victuals one day Like rain along a blade of leek;

that you was here;

[year; And this you call your sweet meander,

I remember it was on a Tuesday, of all days in the Which might be suck'd up by a gander, And Saunders the man says you are always jefting Could he but force his nether bill

and mocking : [fier's stocking), To scoop the channel of the rill.

Mary, said he (one day as I was mending my maFor sure you'd make a mighty clutter,

My master is to fond of that miniher that keeps Were it as big as city-gutter.

the Next come I to your kitchen-garden, 'I thought my master a wise man, but that mun Where one poor House would fare but hard in; inakes him a fool.



Saunders, said I, I would rather than a quart of ale | How is the greatest monarch blest, He would come into our kitchen, and I would pin When in my gawdy liv'ry dreft! a dishclout to his tail.

No haughty nymph has pow'r to run And now I must go, and get Saunders to direct From me, or my embraces fhun. this letter;

[The writes better. Stabb’d to the heart, condemn'd to flame, For I write but a sad scrawl, but my fifter Marget My constancy is still the fame. Well, but I must run and make the bed, before my The favourite messenger of Jove, master comes from pray’rs :

And Lemnian God, consulting ftrore And see now, it strikes ten, and I hear him coming To make me glorious to the sight

up stairs; [write written hand: Of mortals, and the gods delight. Whereof I could say more to your verses, if I could Soon would their altars Alame expire, And fo I remain, in a civil way, your servant to If I refus’d to lend them fire. command. MARY.

On a Corkscret.
$ 35. Ridilles, by Doctor Swift and bis Friends,
written in or about the rear 1724. THOUGH 1, alas! a prisoner be,

My trade is, prisoners to set free,
On a Pen.

No flave his lord's commands obeys
IN youth exalted high in air,

With such insinuating ways. Or bathing in the waters fair,

My genius piercing, Tharp, and bright, Nature to form me took deliglit,

Wherein the men of wit delight. And clad my body all in white,

The clergy keep me for their eafe, My perton tall, and sender waist,

And rurn and wind me as they please. On either side with fringes grac'd;

A new and wondrous art I fhew
Till me that tyrant man espied,

Of raising fpirits from below;
And dragg'd me from my mother's side : In scarlet fome, and some in white:
No wonder now I look fo thin;

They rise, walk round, yet never fright, The tyrant ftript me to the skin :

In at each mouth the spirits pass, My skin he fay'd, my hair he cropt;

Distin&tly seen as through a glass: At head and foot my body lopt:

O'er head and body make a rout, And then, with heart more hard than stone, And drive at laft all secrets out: He pick'd my marrow from the bone.

And still, the more I thew my art, To vex me more, he took a freak

The more they open ev'ry heart. To sit my tongue, and make me speak :

A greater chemist none than I, But, that which wonderful appears,

Who from materials hard and dry I speak to eyes, and not to ears.

Have taught men to extract with skill He oft employs me in disguise,

More precious juice than from a ftill. And makes me tell a thousand lies :

Although I'm often out of case, To me he chiefly gives in trust

I'm not alham'd to shew my face. To please his malice or his luft;

Though at the tables of the great Froin me no fecret he can hide,

I near the fide-board take my seat ; I fee his vanity and pride :

Yet the plain 'squire, when dinner's done, And my delight is to expose

Is never pleas'd till I make one : His follies to his great fi focs.

He kindly bids me near him stand; All languages I can command,

And often takes me by the hand. Yet nor a word I understand.

I twice a day a hunting go ; Without my aid, the best divine

Nor ever fail to seize my foe; In learning would not know a line :

And, when I have him by the pole, The lawyer must forget his pleading;

I drag him upwards from his hole ; The scholar could not fhew his reading,

Though some are of fo stubborn kind, Nay, man, my master is my fave :

I'm forc'd to leave a limb behind. I give command to kill or save;

I hourly wait some fatal end; Can grant ten thousand pounds a year,

For I can break, but scorn' to bend. And make a beggar's brat a peer.

But, while I thus my life relate, I only haiten on my fate.

On a Circle. My tongue is black, my mouth is furr'd,

I'M up and down, and round about, I hardly now can force a word.

Yet all the world can't find me out. Į die unpitied and forgot,

Though hundreds have employ'd their leisure, And on some dunghill left to rot.

They never yet could find my measure,

I'm found almost in ev'ry garden,
On Gold.

Nay in the compass of a farthing.
LL-RULING tyrant of the earth,

There's neither chariot, coach, nor mill, To vilcft flaves I owe my birth.

Can move an inch, except I will,




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On Ink.

The delight of old and young,
I AM jetzblack, as you may fee,

Though I speak without a tongue.
The son of pitch, and gloomy night: Nougnt but one thing can confound me,
Yet all that know me will agree,

Many voices joining round me;
I'm dead except I live in light,

Then I fret, and rave, and gabble
Sometimes in panegyric high,

Like the labourers of Babel.
Like lofty Pindar, I can foar;

Now I am a dog or cow,
And raise a virgin to the sky,

I can bark, or I can low;
Or fink her to a pocky whore,

I can bleat, or I can sing

Like the warblers of the spring.
My blood this day is very sweet,

Let the love-fick bard complain,
To-morrow of a bitter juice;

And I mourn the cruel pain ;
Like milk, 'tis cried about the street,

Let the happy fivain rejoice,
And so applied to different use.

And I join my helping voice;
Most wondrous is my magic pow'r :

Both are welcome, grief or joy,
For with one colour I can paint;

I with either sport and toy.
I'll make the devil a faint this hour,

Though a lady, I am stout,
Next make a devil of a saint.

Drums and trumpets bring me out;
Through distant regions I can fly,

Then I clash, and roar, and rattle,
Provide me but with paper wings :

Join in all the din of battle.
And fairly Thew a reason why

Jove, with all his louder thunder,
There should be quarrels among kings. When I'm vex’d, can't keep me under ;

Yet so tender is my ear,
And, after all, you'll think it odd,
When learned doctors will dispute,

That the lowest voice I fear.
That I should point the word of God,

Much I dread the courtier's fate,
And Thew where they can best confute.

When his merit's out of date;

For I hate a filent breath,
Let lawyers bawl and strain their throats :
'Tis Í that must the lands convey,

And a whisper is my death.
And strip the clients to their coats ;
Nay, give their very souls away.

On a Shadow in a Glass.
BY something form

d, I nothing am,
On the Five Senses.

Yet ev'ry thing that you can name;
ALL of us in one you'll find,

In no place have I ever been,
Brethren of a wondrous kind;

Yet ev'ry where I may be feen ;
Yet us all no brother

In all things false, yet always true,
Knows one tittle of the other.

I'm still the same but ever new.
We in frequent councils are,

Lifeless, life's perfect from I wear,
And our marks of things declare,

Can thew a nose, eye, tongue, or car,
Where, to us unknown, a clerk

Yet neither smell, sec, taste, or hear.
Sits, and takes them in the dark.

All shapes and features I can boast,
He's the register of all

No flesh, no bones, no blood-no ghost :
In our ken, both grcat and small;

All colours, without paint, put on,
By us forms his laws and rules ;

And change like the cameleon.
He's our master, we his tools;

Swiftly I come, and enter there

Yet we can with greatest ease

Where not a chink lets in the air ;
Turn and wind him where we please,

Like thought I'm in a inoment gone,
One of us alone can sleep,

Nor can I ever be alone;
Yet no watch the rest will keep;

All things on earth I imitate
But the moment that he closes,

Faster than nature can create;
Ev'ry brother else reposes,

Sometimes imperial robes I wear,
If wine's bought, or victuals drest,

Anon in beggar's rags appear;
One enjoys them for the rest.

A giant now, and straight an elf,
Pierce us all with wounding steel,

I'm ev'ry one, but ne'er myself;
One for all of us will feel.

Ne'er fad I mourn, ne'er glad rejoice;
Though ten thousand cannons roar,

I move my lips, but want a yoice;
Add to them ten thousand more,

I ne'er was born, nor e'er can die :
Yet but one of us is found

Then pr’ythce tell me, what am I?
Who regards the dreadful sound.

Do what is not fit to tell,
There's but one of us can smell.

On Time.

EVER cating, never cloxing,
On an Ecbo.

All devouring, all destroying,
EVER feeping, ftill awake,

Never finding full repast,
Pleasing most when most I speak :

Till I eat the world at last.



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On the Vowels,

“ This Hamilton's bawn, whill it sticks on my We are little airy creaturas,

6. hand, All of diff'rent voice and features: I lose by the house what I get by the land; One of us in glass is set,

" But how to dispose of it to the best bidder, One of us you'll find in jet,

“ For a barracks or malt-house, we now muff T'other you may see in tin,

“ consider. And the fourth a box within;

“ First, let me suppose I make it a malt-horley If the fifth you should pursuc,'

“ Here I have computed the profit will fall t’us; It can never fly from you.

There's nine hundred pounds for labour and

“grain, On Snow.

“ I increase it to rivelve, so three hundred remain ; FROM hcaven I fall, though from carth I begin,

“ A handsome addition for wine and good cher, No lady alive can shew Tuch a skin.

“ Three dithes a day, and three hogsheads a vear: I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,

“ With a dozen large vessels my vault häll be Butheavyand dark when you squecze me together.

“ stor'd; Though candour and truth in my aspect I bear,

“No little fcrub joint shall come on my board ; Yet many poor creatures I help to ensnare.


and the Dean no more thall combine Though so much of heaven appears in my make,

“ To stint me at night to one bottle of wine ; The fouleft imprcflions I easily take.

“ Nor thall I, for his humour, permit you to pura My parent and I produce one another,

« loin The motherthe daughter, the daughterthe mother.

A fone and a quarter of beef from my furloin.

“ If I make it a barrack, the croun is my tenant; On a Cannon,

“ My dear, I have ponder'd again and again on t. BEGOTTEN, and born, and dying with noise,

In pouvdage and drawbacks I lose half my recta The terror of women, and plasure of boys,

“ Whatever they give me, I must be content, Like the fiction of poets concerning the wind,

“ Or join with the court in every debate;

“ And rather than that I would lose my I'm chictly unruly when strongest confin'd. For filver and gold I don't trouble my head,

Thus ended the Knight. Thus began his meck

wife; But all I delight in is pieces of lead; Except when I trade with a ship or a town,

" It must and it shall be a barrack, my

life. Why then I make pieces of iron go down.

I'm grown a mere mopus; no company comes One property more I would have you remark,

“ But a rabble of tenants and rusty dull rums | No lady was ever more fond of a fpark ;

“ With parsons what lady can keep herself clean? The moment I get one, my soul's all .-fire,

I'm all over daub'd when I fit by the Deare;

<< But if And I roar out my joy, and in transport expire,

you will give us a barrack, my dear,

“ The Captain, I'm sure, will always come here; $36. To Quilca, a Country-House of Dr. Sberidan, « For the captain, I warrant, will keep himinawe;

“ I then thall not value his Deauship a fraw, in no very gon Repair. 1725.

“Or, should he pretend to be brisk and alert

, LET me thy properties explain :

“ Will tell him that chaplains thould not be sa A rotten cabbin, dropping rain ;

pert; Chimnies with scorn rejecting smoke;

“ That men of his coat should be minding their Stools, tables, chairs, and bedsteads broke.

"pray’rs, Herc elements have lost their uses : Air ripens not, nor carth produces ;

“ And'not among ladies to give themselves airs." In vain we make

Thus argued my Lady, but argued in vain;
Shielah * toil,

Fire will not roast, nor water boil.

The Knight his opinion resolv'd to maintain.

But Hannah q, ivho listend to all that was paft, Through all the valleys, bills, and plains,

And could not endure so vulgar a taste, The goddess Want in triumph reigns :

*As soon as her Ladyship call'd to be drest

, And her chief officers of late,

Cried, “ Madam, why furely my master's posSloth, Dirt, and Theft, around her wait.

“Sir Arthur the malester! howk Epe it will $ 37. The grand Quejtion deboled: Whether Hamil.

“ found! ton's Bawn #ould be turned into a Barrack or “I'd rather the bawn were funk under ground. a Mall-House. 1729.

“ But, madam, I guess'd there would never come THUS spoke to my Lady the Knight + full of

“When i taw him to often with Darby ** and * Let me have your advice in a weighey affair:

“ Wood,


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* Th: name of an Irish servant.

+ Sir Arthur Acheron, at whose feat this was writtene # A large old house, two milts from Sir Arthur's seat. The army in Ireland is lodged in strong buildings over the whole kingdom, called barracks. | A cant werd in Ireland foc a poor country clergyman.. My lady's waiting-woman.

** Two of Sir Arthur's managers.


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