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No impotence of wit had ta’en. Poffesfion of my muse-struck brain. Or had my birth, with fortune fit, Varnish'd the dunce, or made the wit; I had not held a shameful place, Hor letters paid me with disgrace.
-O! for a pittance of my own, That I might live unsought, unknown ! Retir'd from all this pedant ftrife, Far from the cares of burt’ling life ; Far from the wits, the fools, the great, And all the little world I hate,
What Suitors then will kneel before me. “ Lords, Earls, and Vfcounts shall adore me. “ When in my gilded coach I ride, « My Lady at his Lordship's fide, “ How will I laugh at all I meet " Claet’ring in pattens down the street ! " And LOBBIN then I'll mind no more, 6 Howe'er I lov'd him heretofore; “ Or, if he talks of plighted truth, " I will not hear the fimple youth,
But rise indignant from my seat,
Action, alas ! the speaker's grace,
Thus fancy ever loves to roam,
A FAMILIAR EPISTLE.
FROM THE REV. MR. HANBURY'S HORSE,
THE REV. MR. 6607.
MONGST you bipeds, reputation
HOE'ER for pleasure plans a scheme,
Will find it vanith like a dream,
Is Pleasure's scheme the point in view ;
Well Tuesday is th' appointed day i
DELIA surveys, with curious eyes,
Once on a time, a rustic dame,
« Please heav'n but to preserve my health, “ No doubt I thall have itore of wealth ; “ It must of consequence ensue “ I thall have store of lovers too, of Oh ! how I'll break their stubborn hearts “ Wich all the pride of female arts.
And men increase in fame and worth,
- What did his Lordship say?--0! fine !
Mark the fat Cit, whose good round sum, Amounts at least to half a Plumb; Whose chariot whirls him
and down Some three or four miles out of town; For thither suber folks repair, To take the Duft which they call air, Dull folly (not the wanton wild Imagination's younger child) Has taken lodgings in his face, As finding that a vacant place, And peeping from his windows, tells To all beholders, where the dwells. Yet once a week, this purse-proud cit] Shall ape the sallies of a wit, And after ev'ry Sunday's dinner, To priestly faint, or city lioner, Shall tell the story o'er and o'er, H'as told a thousand times before ;
Like gameiters, who, with eager zeal,
Mark ! how the fools and knaves admire
Birth, rank, and wealth, have wond'rous skill ;
Receive, good fir, with aspect kind,
My Sire was Pindar's Eagle, son
Now Critics here would bid me speak
- They'd take a country at a Aride.
But till some learned wight shall thew
Nor let it shock your thought or right,
Grorun men and Sparrows taught to dance,
Of paper, pen, and ink possessid,
When in the thape of useful hack,
Know, safely rode my master's bride,
Abstract in wond'rous speculation,
Whether Acroftics teize the brain,
Unless we'ad right initials got,
Or whether Rebus, Riddle's brother
Then, like your heathen idols, we
What BEROALDUS gravely told ; Have eyes indeed, but cannot see.
I read it in that sound divine. We, for I take the poet's part,
And for indecency, you know And for my blood, am Bard at heart)
He had a fashionable turn, Forin reflection deep immerit,
As prim observers clearly shew The man muse-bitten and be-verft,
In t'other Parson, Doctor STIRNE. Neglectful of externals all,
Yet Pope denies it all defence, Will run his head against a wall,
And call it, bless us! Want of sense. Walk, through a river as it flows,
But e'en the decent Pope can write Nor see the bridge before his nose.
* Of bottles, corks, and maiden fighs, Are things like these equestriane fit
of charming beauties less in light, To mount the back of mettled tit?
Of the more secret precious hair, Are-but farewell, for here comes Bob,
It “ And something else of little Size, And I must serve some hackney job ;
You know where. Fetch letters, or, for recreacion,
If such Authorities prevail, Transport the bard to our Plantation.
To vihilh o'er this petty fin, Roberts joins compts with Burnam Black,
I plead a pardon for my tale, Your humble servant, Hanbury's hack.
And having hemm'd and cough'd begin.
We read of in the Arabian nights ;
At Bob's or Arthur's, whilom White's;
For howsoe'er you change the name, THE NEW-RIVER HEAD. The Clubs and Meetings are the same ;
Nor those prodigious learned folks,
Your Haberdashers of ftale Jokes,
Who dress them up so neat and clean
But one that could play wond'rous tricks,
Changing the very course of Nature,
Or fage URGANDA could do greater.)
From his equivocal dominions, Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis ætum.
And travellid o'er a country town
To try folks' tempers and opinions.
When to accomplish his intent
(For had the cobler known the king.
Lord ! it would quite have spoild the thing) Of gloomy Folks, who love to fit
In strange disguise he fily went As Doctors should at Consultation,
And stump'd along the high-way track, Permit me, in familiar Strain
With greasy knapsack at his back ; To steal you from the idle hour
And now the night was pitchy dark, Of combating the NORTHERN THANE,
Without one star's indulgent spark, And all his pupper tools of Pow'r.
Whether he wanted sleep or not, Shame to the Wretch, if sense of shame
Is of no consequence to tell ; Can ever touch the miscreant's breast,
A bed and lodging must be got, Who dead to virtue as to fame,
For genuises live always well. (A Monster whom the Gods detest)
At the belt house in all the town, Turns traitor to himself, to court,
(It was th' wtorney's you may swear) Or Minister or Monarch's smile ;
He knock'd as he'd have beat it down, And dares, in infolence of sport,
Knock as you would, no entrance there. Invade the CHARTER of our isle.
But from the window cried the dame, But why should I, who only strive
Go, firrah go, from whence you came. By telling of an easy tale,
Here, Nell, John, Thomas, see who knocks, To keep attention half alive
Fellow, I'll put you in the Itucks. 'Gainit BODGOLAM and FLIMNAP rail ? For whether ENGLAND be the name,
Be gentle ma'am, the Genius cried :
Have mercy on the wand'ring poor,
And asks a pittance at your door.
A mug of beer, a cruft of bread
Have pity on the houseless head;
Your husband keeps a lordly tabley
I ask but for the offal crumbs,
* Rape of the Lock. But to return_The tale is old ;
+ Pope's Letters: Indecent, truly none of mine
And for a lodging—barn or stable
"I was all in vain ; the rang the bell,
Till throught a calement's dingy pane,
Bad him e'en try his luck again ;
So to this cot of homely thatch,
Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch; What want ye fir?
God save you, dame. And fo be told the piteous tale,
Which you have heard him tell before i
Were I to tell it o'er and o'er.
And from the corner-cupboard's board,
Befpread her hospitable board With what she had 'twas bread and cheefe. "T'is honest though but homely cheer;
Much good may't do ye, eat your fill. Would I cou'd treat you with strong beer,
But for the action take the will, You see my cot is clean though small,
Pray heav'n encrease my slender Rock!
And for your bed, Sir there's a flock.
(Howe'er fuch singing's light esteemid, Tis precious in the Muses' tongue
When fung, rhimes better than he scream'd ;). The dame and pedlar both arose,
At early dawn of rising day,
And He to travel on his way ;
For the reception he had found,
Would it were in my pow'r to pay
My gratitude a better way ;
And I have not a doit to spare ;
-No, quoth the dame, I'm as poor as you,
You're welcome, friend, farewell-Adieu. But first reply'd the wand'ring guest,
For bed and board and homely dishe May all things turn out for the best,
So take my blessing and my wish,
May what you first begin to do.
Create such profit and delight, That you may do it all day through,
Nor finish till the depth of night.
Thank you, said she, and shut the door, Turn'd to her work, and thought no more, And now the napkin which was spread To treat her guest with good prown bread, She folded up with nicest care ; When lo ! another napkin there! And every folding did beget Another and another yet. She folds a shift-by strange encrcafe, The remnant swells into a piece. Her Caps, hep Laces, all the fame,
Till such a quantity of Linen,
From such a very fmall beginning, Flow'd in at once upon the Dame, Who wond'ted how the deuce it came,
That with the drap'ry she had got
Within her little shabby cot,
Who to be sure, took much upon her,
Who did the Parish mighty honour, Sent for the Dame, who poor and willing,
Would take a job of charing work,
And sweat and toil like any Turk, To carn a fixpence or a shilling.
She could not come, not the indeed! She thank'd her much but had no need. Good news will Ay as well as bad,
So out this wond'rous story came,
About the Pedlar and the Dame, Which
made th’ Attorney's wife so mad, That she refolv'd at any rate, Spite of her pride and Lady airs,
To get the Pedlar tete-a-tetc, And make up all the past affairs :
And though she withd him at the devil When he came there the night before,
Determin'd to be monstrous civil, And drop her curtsie at the door.
Now all was racket, noise and pother,
Thomas return’d;--the Pedlar brought
For not behaving as she ought,
But there's such thieving here of lato Not that I dream'd that you were such,
When you came knocking at my gate,
And I'm afraid you lately met
Who lives on what her hands can get,
Take such refreshment as you find,
And give it with a willing mind,
Behold the table covers spread,
Instead of Goody's cheese and bread,
And to appear in greater itate,
The candlesticks of bright (French) plate
Were all brought forth to be display'd,
In female housewifry parade,
And make the wond'rous man her friend,
And port and claret without end;
Talk'd over every friend and foe,
When wilhing Madam bon repos,
Wishing him then at perfect ease, = A good soft bed, a good sound sleep,
Now, gentle reader, if you please,
She could not rest, but turn'd and toss'd
That what her indiscretion last,
Such Linen to so poor a dame !
Why might not the expect the fame,
Of Cambricks, Hollands, Mullins, Lawns,
Free gifts, and Purchases, and Pawns,
Till she had got a Stock of Linen.
Fit for a Dowager to fin in.
Most ceremoniously inclin'd
With all that civil Atuff we find
How shall I, Ma'm, reply'd the Guest,
And such civilities expreft
For this vour eutertainment's fake,
May what you first shall undertake,
Madam, who kindly understood
Draw'rs, Boxes, Closets, Chests and Cares
How shall I now my tale pursue,
Leít some more urgent obligation Might interrupt her pleasing toil,
And marring half her application.
Before the folds a single rag,
(For she was now resolv'd to labout, With earnest hope and full intent
To get the better of her neighbour)
To do that necessary thing,
By Male and Female, Queen and King;
Practis'd as duly as her pray’rs,
Or coft her such a sea of cares.
That in the dry and dusty weather,
For ten or twenty miles together.
Instead of folding Cap or Mob,
While for her Indiscretion's crime,
She made a river at a time,
E SI could rifle grove and bow'r
And strip the beds of every flow'r,
Which every songster can display,