I value not your jokes of noose,

Your gibes, and all your foul abuse,

More than the dirt beneath my shoes,

Yet one thing vexes me, I own,

nor fear it :

Thou sorry scarecrow of skin and bone;

To be call'd lean by a skeleton,

who'd bear it?

'Tis true indeed, to curry friends, You seem to praise, to make amends,

And yet, before your stanza ends,

you flout me,

'Bout latent charms beneath my clothes, For every one that knows me knows

That I have nothing like my nose

about me:

I pass now where

you fleer and laugh,

'Cause I call Dan my better half!

O there you think you have me safe!

Is not a penny often found

But hold, sir:

To be much greater than a pound?

By your good leave, my most profound

and bold sir,

Dan's noble mettle, Sherry base;
So Dan's the better, though the less,
An ounce of gold's worth ten of brass,
dull pedant!

As to your spelling, let me see,

If SHE make sher, and RI make ry,
Good spelling-master; your crany

has lead on't.

ANOTHER REJOINDER,

BY THE DEAN, IN JACKSON'S NAME.

THREE days for answer I have waited,
I thought an ace you'd ne'er have bated,
And art thou forc'd to yield, ill fated

poetaster!

Henceforth acknowledge, that a nose
Of thy dimension's fit for prose,
But every one that knows Dan, knows

thy master.

Blush for ill spelling, for ill lines,
And fly with hurry to ramines;
Thy fame, thy genius now declines,

proud boaster.

I hear with some concern you roar,
And flying think to quit the score,
By clapping billets on your door

and posts, sir.

Thy ruin, Tom, I never meant,
I'm griev'd to hear your banishment,
But pleas'd to find you do relent

and cry on.

I maul'd you, when you look'd so bluff,
But now I'll secret keep your stuff;
For know, prostration is enough

to th' lion.

SHERIDAN'S SUBMISSION.

BY THE DEAN.

"Cedo jam, miseræ cognoscens præmia rixæ, Si rixa est, ubi tu pulsas ego vapulo tantum."

POOR Sherry, inglorious,

To Dan the victorious,
Presents, as 'tis fitting,
Petition and greeting.

To you, victorious and brave,

Your now subdued and suppliant slave
Most humbly sues for pardon;
Who when I fought still cut me down,
And when I vanquish'd fled the town,
Pursued and laid me hard on.

Now lowly crouch'd I cry peccavi,
And prostrate supplicate pour ma vie,
Your mercy I rely on;

For you, my conqueror and my king,
In pardoning, as in punishing,
Will show yourself a lion.

Alas! sir, I had no design,
But was unwarily drawn in ;
For spite I ne'er had any ;

'Twas the damn'd 'squire with the hard name; The de'el too that ow'd me a shame,

The devil and Delany.

They tempted me t'attack your highness,
And then, with wonted wile and slyness,
They left me in the lurch:
Unhappy wretch! for now, I ween,
I've nothing left to vent my spleen
But ferula and birch:

And they, alas! yield small relief,
Seem rather to renew my grief,
My wounds bleed all anew:
For every stroke goes to my heart,
And at each lash I feel the smart
Of lash laid on by you.

TO THE REV. DANIEL JACKSON.

TO BE HUMBLY PRESENTED BY MR. SHERIDAN IN PERSON, WITH RESPECT, CARE, AND SPEED.

DEAR DAN,

HERE I return my trust, nor ask,
One penny for remittance;
If I have well perform'd my task,
Pray send me an acquittance.

Too long I bore this weighty pack,
As Hercules the sky;

Now take him you, Dan Atlas, back,
Let me be stander-by.

Not all the witty things you speak

In compass of a day,

Not half the puns you make a week,
Should bribe his longer stay.

With me you left him out at nurse,
Yet are you not my debtor;
For, as he hardly can be worse,
I ne'er could make him better..

He rhymes and puns, and puns and rhymes
Just as he did before;

And, when he's lash'd a hundred times,
He rhymes and puns the more.

When rods are laid on schoolboys bums,
The more they frisk and skip:
The schoolboy's top but louder hums
The more they use the whip.

Thus, a lean beast beneath a load
(A beast of Irish breed)
Will, in a tedious, dirty road,

Outgo the prancing steed.

You knock him down and down in vain,
And lay him flat before ye,

For, soon as he gets up again,
He'll strut, and cry, Victoria!

At every stroke of mine, he fell, 'Tis true he roar'd and cry'd;

But his impenetrable shell

Could feel no harm beside