One tells the rife of cheese and oatmeal
Another when he got a hot meal;
One gives advice in proverbs old,
Inftructs us how to tame a fcold; ·
One fhews how bravely Audouin dy'd,
And at the gallows all deny'd;
How by the almanack 'tis clear,
That herrings will be cheap this year.
T. Dear Mullinix, I now lament
My precious time fo long mis-fpent,
By nature meant for nobler ends:
O, introduce me to your friends!
For whom by birth I was defign'd,'
Till politicks debas'd my mind :
I give myfelf entire to you;
G-d-n the Whigs and Tories too!,
TIM AND THE FABLES.
MY meaning will be beft unraveld,
When I premife that Tim has traveld..
In Lucas's by chance there lay
The Fables writ by Mr. Gay.
Tim fet the volume on a table,
Read over here and there a Fable;
And found, as he the pages twirl'd,
The Monkey who had feen the world:
(For Tonfon had, to help the fale,
Prefix'd a cut to every tale.)
* See an account of him in the "Intelligencer," N° x.
The Monkey was completely dreft, ·
The Beau in all his airs expreft.
Tim, with furprize and pleasure staring,
Ran to the glass, and then comparing
His own sweet figure with the print,
Diftinguifr'd every feature in 't,
The twift, the fqueeze, the rump, the fidge in all, Juft as they look'd in the original.
"By," fays Tim, and let a fart,
"This graver understood his art.
'Tis a true copy, I'll fay that for 't;
"I well remember when I fat for 't.
My very face, as first I knew it ;
"Juft in this drefs the painter drew it."
Tim, with his likeness deeply fmitten,
Would read, what underneath was written,
The merry tale, with moral grave.
He now began to storm and rave:
"The curfed villain ! now I fee
"This was a libel meant at me:
"These fcribblers grow fo bold of late
Against us minifters of state!
"Such Jacobites as he deserve
“D—n me! I fay, they ought to ftarve."
TOM MULLINIX AND DICK.
TOM and Dick had equal fame,
And both had equal knowledge;
Tom could write and spell his name,
But Dick had feen the college.
Dick a coxcomb, Tom was mad,.
And both alike diverting ; Tom was held the merrier lad, But Dick the best at farting.
Dick would cock his nofe in scorn,
But Tom was kind and loving;
Tom a foot-boy bred and born,
But Dick was from an oven.
Dick could neatly dance a jig,
But Tom was beft at borees;
Tom would pray for every Whig,
And Dick curfe all the Tories.
Dick would make a woeful noise,. And fcold at an election;
Tom huzza'd the black-guard boys,. And held them in subjection.
Tom could move with lordly grace,›
Dick nimbly skipt the gutter;
Tom could talk with folemn face,
But Dick could better fputter.
Dick was come to high renown
Since he commenc'd phyfician
Tom was held by all the town
The deeper politician.
Tom had the genteeler fwing,
His hat could nicely put on ;; Dick knew better how to swing His cane upon a button..
Dick for repartee was fit,
And Tom for deep difcerning;
Dick was thought the brighter wit,
But Tom had better learning.
Dick with zealous no's and ay's
Could roar as loud as Stentor,
In the house 'tis all he fays;
But Tom is eloquenter.
A MAG GO T.
AS when, from rooting in a bin,
All powder'd o'er from tail to chin,
A lively maggot fallies out,
"You know him by his hazel fnout :
So when the grandson of his grandfire
Forth iffues wriggling, Dick Drawcanfir,
With powder'd rump and back and fide,
You cannot blanch his tawny hide ;
For 'tis beyond the power of meal
The gipfy vifage to conceal :
For, as he shakes his wainscot chops,
Down every mealy atom drops,
And leaves the tartar phiz, in fhow
Like a fresh t-d just dropt on fnow.
CLAD ALL IN BROWN. TO DICK. IMITATED FROM COWLEY.
FOULEST brute that stinks below,
Why in this brown doft thou appear?
For, would'ft thou make a fouler show,
Thou must go naked all the year.
Fresh from the mud a wallowing fow
Would then be not fo brown as thou.
'Tis not the coat that looks fo dun,
His hide emits a foulness out;
Not one jot, better looks the fun
Seen from behind a dirty clout:
So t-ds within a glass enclose,
The glafs will feem as brown as those.
Thou now one heap of foulness art,
All outward and within is foul;
Condenfed filthy in every part,
Thy body's cloathed like thy foul;
Thy foul, which through thy hide of buff
Scarce glimmers like a dying snuff.
Old carted bawds fuch garments wear,
When pelted all with dirt they shine;
Such their exalted bodies are,
As fhrivel'd and as black as thine.
If thou wert in a cart, I fear
Thou would'st be pelted worfe than they 're.
|