You the fam'd idol will become,
As gardens grac'd in ancient Rome,
By matrons worship'd in the gloom

of night:

O happy Dan thrice happy sure!
Thy fame for ever shall endure,
Who after death can love secure

at sight.

So far I thought it was my duty
To dwell upon thy boasted beauty;
Now I'll proceed a word or two 't ye

in answer

To that part where you carry on
This paradox, that rock and stone
In your opinion are all one :

How can, sir,

A man of reasoning so profound
So stupidly be run aground,

As things so different to confound

t' our senses ?

Except you judg'd them by the knock
Of near an equal hardy block :
Such an experimental stroke

convinces.

Then might you be, by dint of reason,
A proper judge on this occasion;
'Gainst feeling there's no disputation,

is granted:

Therefore to thy superior wit,
Who made the trial, we submit ;
Thy head to prove the truth of it

we wanted.

In one assertion you're to blame,
Where Dan and Sherry's made the same,
Endeavouring to have your name

refin'd, sir:

You'll see most grossly you mistook,
If you consult your spelling-book,
(The better half you say you took)

you'll find, sir;

S, H, E, she-and R, I, ri,
Both put together make Sherry,

D, A, N, Dan-makes up

the three

syllables;

Dan is but one, and Sherri two,

Then, sir, your choice will never do;
'Therefore I've turn'd, my friend, on you

the tables.

DR. DELANY'S REPLY.

ASSIST me, my Muse, while I labour to limn him :
Credite, Pisones, isti tabulæ persimilem.

You look and you write with so different a grace,
That I envy your verse, though I did not your face.
And to him that thinks rightly, there's reason enough,
'Cause one is as smooth, as the other is rough.

But much I'm amaz'd you should think my design Was to ryhme down your nose, or your harlequin grin, Which you yourself wonder the de'el should malign. And if 'tis so strange, that your monstership's crany Should be envy'd by him, much less by Delany; Though I own to you, when I consider it stricter, I envy the painter, although not the picture. And justly she's envy'd, since a fiend of Hell Was never drawn right but by her and Raphael. Next, as to the charge, which you tell us is true, That we were inspir'd by the subject we drew. Inspir'd we were, and well, sir, you knew it,

Yet not by your nose, but the fair one that drew it : Had your nose been the Muse, we had ne'er been inspir'd,

Tho' perhaps it might justly 've been said we were fir’d.
As to the division of words in your staves,

Like my countryman's horn comb, into three halves,
I meddle not with 't, but presume to make merry,
You call'd Dan one half, and 'tother half Sherry :
Now if Dan's a half, as you call't o'er and o'er,
Then it can't be deny'd that Sherry's two more.

For

pray give me leave to say, sir, for all you,
That Sherry's at least of double the value.
But perhaps, sir, you did it to fill up the verse :
So crowds in a concert (like actors in a farce)
Play two parts in one, when scrapers are scarce.
But be that as 'twill, you'll know more anon, sir,
When Sheridan sends to Merry Dan answer.

SHERIDAN'S REPLY.

THREE merry lads you own we are; 'Tis very true, and free from care, But envious we cannot bear,

believe, sir:

For, were all forms of beauty thine,
Were you like Nereus soft and fine,
We should not in the least repine.

or grieve, sir.

Then know from us, most beauteous Dan,
That roughness best becomes a man ;

'Tis woman should be pale and wan,

and taper;

And all your trifling beaux and fops,

Who comb their brows, and sleek their chops, Are but the offspring of toyshops,

mere vapour.

We know your morning hours you pass
To cull and gather out a face;

Is this the way you take your glass ?

Forbear it:

Those loads of paint upon your toilet,
Will never mend your face, but spoil it,
It looks as if you did parboil it:

Drink claret.

Your cheeks, by sleeking, are so lean,
That they're like Cynthia in the wane,
Or breast of goose when 'tis pick'd clean,
or pullet:

See what by drinking you have done :
You've made your phiz a skeleton,
From the long distance of your crown,

t'your gullet.

A REJOINDER.

BY THE DEAN, IN JACKSON'S NAME.

WEARIED with saying grace and prayer,

I hasten'd down to country air,
To read your answer, and prepare

reply to❜t:

But your fair lines so grossly flatter,
Pray, do they praise me, or bespatter?
I must suspect you mean the latter—

It must be so! what else, alas!
Can mean by culling of a face,
And all that stuff of toilet, glass,

Ah! slyboot!

and box-comb?

But be't as 'twill, this you must grant,
That you're a daub, whilst I put paint;
Then which of us two is the quaint-

VOL. X.

`N

er coxcomb ?