STELLA'S BIRTH DAY.

MARCH 13, 1718-19.

STELLA this day is thirty-four,
(We sha'n't dispute a year or more)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green :
So little is thy form declin'd;
Made up so largely in thy mind.

O, would it please the gods to split
Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit!
No age could furnish out a pair
Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair;
With half the lustre of your eyes,
With half your wit, your years, and sizę.
And then, before it grew too late,

How should I beg of gentle Fate,

(That either nymph might have her swain) To split my worship too in twain!

SIR,

TO DR. SHERIDAN.*

Dec. 14, 1719, nine at night.

Ir is impossible to know by your letter whether the wine

is to be bottled to-morrow, or no.

* In this letter, though written in prose, the reader, upon examin ing, will find each second sentence rhymes to the former, H.

If it be, or be not, why did not you, in plain English tell

us so?

For my part, it was by mere chance I came to sit with the ladiest this night.

And if they had not told me there was a letter from you;

and your man Alexander had not gone, and came back from the deanery; and the boy here had not been sent to let Alexander know I was here; I should have missed the letter outright.

Truly I don't know who's bound to be sending for corks to stop your bottles, with a vengeance.

Make a page of your own age, and send your man Alexander to buy corks; for Saunders already has gone above ten jaunts.

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnson say, truly they don't

care for your wife's company, though they like your wine; but they had rather have it at their own house to drink in quiet.

However, they own it is very civil in Mrs. Sheridan to make the offer; and they cannot deny it.

I wish Alexander safe at St. Catharine's to night, with all my heart and soul, upon my word and honour: But I think it base in you to send a poor fellow out so

late at this time of year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr. Connor.

I would present my humble service to my lady Mountcashel; but truly I thought she would have made advances to have been acquainted with me, as she pretended.

But now I can write no more, for you see plainly my paper is ended.

Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Dingley. F.

1 P. S.

I wish, when you prated, your letter you'd dated:
Much plague it created. I scolded and rated;

My soul is much grated; for your man I long waited.
I think you are fated, like a bear to be baited:
Your man is belated: the case I have stated;
And me you have cheated. My stable's unslated.
Come back t' us well freighted.

I remember my late head; and wish you translated,
For teasing me.

2 P. S.

Mrs. Dingley desires me singly

Her service to present you; hopes that will content you; But Johnson madam is grown a sad dame,

For want of your converse, and cannot send one verse.

3 P. S.

You keep such a twattling with you and your bottling;
But I see the sum total, we shall ne'er have a bottle;
The long and the short, we shall not have a quart.
I wish you would sign't, that we have a pint.
For all your colloguing,* I'd be glad of a knoggin :†
But I doubt 'tis a sham; you won't give us a dram.
'Tis of shine a mouth moon-ful, you won't part with a

spoonful,

And I must be nimble, if I can fill my thimble,

You see I won't stop, till I come to a drop;

But I doubt the oraculum, is a poor supernaculum; Though perhaps you may tell it, for a grace if we

smell it.

STELLA.

A phrase used in Ireland for a specious appearance of kindness without sincerity. F.

A name used in Ireland for the English quartern. F.

DR. SHERIDAN'S ANSWER.

I'D have you to know, as sure as you're dean,
On Thursday my cask of Obrien I'll drain:
If my wife is not willing, I say she's a quean;
And my right to the cellar, egad, I'll maintain
As bravely as any that fought at Dunblain:
Go tell her it over and over again.

I hope, as I ride to the town, it won't rain;
For, should it, I fear it will cool my hot brain,
Entirely extinguish my poetic vein ;

And then I should be as stupid as Kain,

Who preach'd on three heads, though he mention'd but

twain.

Now Wardel's in haste, and begins to complain;

Your most humble servant, dear sir, I remain,

Get Helsham, Walmsley, Delany,
And some Grattans, if there be any:
Take care you do not bid too many.

T. S-N.

DR. SWIFT'S REPLY.

THE verses you sent on the bottling your wine
Were, in every one's judgment, exceedingly fine;
And I must confess, as a dean and divine,
I think you inspir'd by the Muses all nine.
I nicely examin❜d them every line,

And the worst of them all like a barndoor did shine,

* i. e. in Dublin, for they were country clergy. F.

✪, that Jove would give me such a talent as thine!
With Delany or Dan I would scorn to combine.
I know they have many a wicked design;
And, give Satan his due, Dan begins to refine.
However, I wish, honest comrade of mine,

You would really on Thursday leave St. Catharine,*
Where I hear you are cramm'd every day like a swine;
With me you'll no more have a stomach to dine,
Nor after your victuals lie sleeping supine:
So I wish you were toothless, like lord Masserine.
But, were you as wicked as lewd Aretine,

I wish you would tell me which way you incline.
If, when you return, your road you don't line,
On Thursday I'll pay my respects at your shrine,
Wherever you bend, wherever you twine,
In square, or in opposite circle, or trine.

Your beef will on Thursday be salter than brine:
I hope you have swill'd, with new milk from the kine,
As much as the Liffee's outdone by the Rhine;
And Dan shall be with us, with nose aquiline.

If you
do not come back, we shall weep out our eyne;
Or may your gown never be good Lutherine.
The beef you have got, I hear, is a chine :
But, if too many come, your madam will whine;
And then you may kiss the low end of her spine.
But enough of this poetry Alexandrine:

I hope you will not think this a pasquine.

*The seat of Lady Mounteashel, near Dublin. F