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And Dan fhall 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 kifs the low end of her spine.
But enough of this poetry Alexandrine :

I hope you will not think this a pasquine.

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TOME fit by my fide, while this picture I draw:


In chattering a magpie, in pride a jackdaw; A temper the devil himself could not bridle; Impertinent mixture of bufy and idle;

As rude as a bear, no mule half fo crabbed ;

She fwills like a fow, and fhe breeds like a rabbit:

A houfe-wife in bed, at table a flattern;

For all an example, for no one a pattern.

Now tell me, friend Thomas*, Ford †, Grattan ‡, and

merry Dan ||,

Has this any likeness to good madam Sheridan?

* Dr. Thomas Sheridan..

+ Charles Ford of Woodpark, Efqr

Reverend John Grattan.

Reverend Daniel Jackson,





DEAR Dean, fince you in fleepy wife

Have op'd your mouth, and clos'd your eyes;

Like ghoft, I glide along your floor,
And foftly shut the parlour-door :

For fhould I break your fweet repofe,
Who knows what money you might lofe ;
Since oftentimes it has been found,

A dream has given ten thoufand pound?
Then fleep, my friend; dear dean, fleep on,
And all you get shall be your own;
Provided you to this agree,

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So, about twelve at night, the punk

Steals from the cully when he 's drunk;
Nor is contented with a treat,
Without her privilege to cheat.
Nor can I the leaft difference find,

But that you left no clap behind.
But, jeft apart, reftore, you capon ye,

My twelve thirteens and fix-pence ha'penny.

A fhilling paffeth for thirteen pence in Ireland.

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To eat my meat, and drink my medlicot,
And then to give me fuch a deadly cut —
But 'tis obferv'd, that men in gowns
Are most inclin❜d to plunder crowns.
Could you but change a crown as easy

As you can steal one, how 'twould please ye!
I thought the lady at St. Catharine's


Knew how to fet you better patterns;

For this I will not dine with Agmondisham †,
And for his victuals let a ragman dish 'em.






ALLAS, a goddefs chafte and wife,
Defcending lately from the skies,

To Neptune went, and begg'd in form
He 'd give his orders for a storm;
A form, to drown that rascal Horte,
And the would kindly thank him for 't:

A wretch! whom English rogues, to fpite her,
Had lately honour'd with a mitre.

The god, who favour'd her request,

Affur'd her he would do his best:
But Venus had been there before,
Pleaded the bishop lov'd a whore,

*Lady Montcafhel.

+ Agmondifham Vefey efq; a very worthy gentleman, for whom the Dean had a great esteem.


And had enlarg'd, her empire wide;
He own'd no deity befide.

At fea or land, if e'er you found him
Without a miftrefs, hang or drown him.
Since Burnet's death, the bishop's bench,
Till Horte arriv'd, ne'er kept a wench;
If Horte muft fink, fhe grieves to tell it,
She 'II not have left one fingle prelate :
For, to fay truth, fhe did intend him,
Elect of Cyprus in commendam.
And, fince her birth the ocean gave her,
She could not doubt her uncle's favour.
Then Proteus urg'd the fame request,
But half in earnest, half in jest;

Said he

"Great fovereign of the main,
"To drown him, all attempts are vain;
"Horte can affume more forms than I,
"A rake, a bully, pimp, or spy;
"Can creep or run, can fly or fwim,
"All motions are alike to him:
"Turn him adrift, and you shall find
"He knows to fail with every wind;
"Or, throw him overboard, he 'll ride
"As well against, as with the tide.
"But, Pallas, you 've apply'd too late;
“For 'tis decreed, by Jove and Fate,
"That Ireland must be foon destroy'd,
"And who but Horte can be employ'd?
"You need not then have been so pert,
"In fending Bolton* to Clonfert.

* Afterwards archbishop of Cafhell.
A a 3

"I found

"I found you did it, by your grinning;
"Your bufinefs is, to mind your fpinning.
"But how you came to interpofe
"In making bifhops, no one knows :
"Or who regarded your report;

"For never were you feen at court.
"And if you must have your petition,
"There's Berkeley* in the fame condition:
"Look, there he flands, and 'tis but just,
"If one must drown, the other muft;

But, if you'll leave us bifhop Judas,
"We'll give you Berkeley for Bermudas.
"Now, if 'twill gratify your fpight,
"To put him in a plaguy fright,
"Although 'tis hardly worth the coft,

"You foon fhall fee him foundly toft.
"You'll find him fwear, blafpheme, and damn

"(And every moment take a dram)

"His ghaftly vifage with an air

"Of reprobation and despair :

"Or elfe fome hiding-hole he feeks,
"For fear the rest should say he squeaks;

"Or, as Fitzpatrick † did before,
"Refolve to perifh with his whore;

"Or elfe he raves, and roars, and fwears,
"And, but for fhame, would fay his prayers.
"Or, would you fee his fpirits fink,

"Relaxing downwards in a ftink?

Dr. George Berkeley, dean of Derry, and after wards bishop of Cloyne.

+ Brigadier Fitzpatrick was drowned in one of the packet-boats in the bay of Dublin, in a great storm.

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