Oh! but I forgot; perhaps, by this time you may have one come to town, but I don't know whether he be friend or foe, Lely

but, however, if he come, bring him down, and you frail go back in a fortnight, for I know there no delaying ye.

Oh! I forgot too; 1 believe there may be one more: I mean that great fat joker, frien1 Eelfum, te

That wrote the prologue, and if you ftay with hi, depend on 't, in the ord he'll sham ye. Bring down Long Shanks Jm too; but, row I think on 't, he's not yet come from Courtown, I fancy's

For I heard, a month ago, that he was down there a courting My N. ney.

However, bring down yourfelf, and you bring down all; for to fay it we may venture, In thee Delany's fpleen, John's mirth, Helfam's jokes, and the foft foul of amorous Jemmy,

GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN

TO GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN, Efq. Upon his incomparable VERSES, &c, By Dr. DELANY, in SHERIDA's Name†. AIL, human compound quadrifarious, Invincible as Wight Briareus! Hail! doubly-doubled nighty merry one, Stronger than triple-body'd Geryon ! O may your vaftnefs deign t' excufe The praises of a puny Mufe, Unable in her utmost fight, To reach thy huge Colon an height. T'attempt to write lise thee were frantic, Whofe lines are, like thyfelf, gigantic.

Yet let me blefs, in humbler train,' Thy vaft, thy bold Cambyfan vein, Pour'd out t'enrich thy native ille, went to be with Nile.

As Egypt

Ca, how I joy to fee thee wander,
In many a winding leofe meander,
In circling mazes, finooth and fupple,
And en ling in a clink quadruple ;

* One fjoken by yrung Putland, in 1720, befor polytus; In which Dr. Sheridan (who had suritten a prologue for the cecapon) was mo? unexpectedly and egregiously laughed at. Both the prologues are printed in the Supplement to Swift's Works.” N. †Thefe were all written in circles.

Loud, yet agreeable withal,
Like rivers rattling in their fall!
Chine fure, is poetry divine,
Where wit and majesty combine;
Where every line as huge as feven,
If Stretch'd in length, would reach to Heaven:
Here all comparing would be flandering,
The leaft is more than Alexandrine.

Against thy verfe Time fees with pain,
He whets his envious fcythe in vain ;
For, though from thee he much may pare,
Yet much thon ftill wilt have to fpare.

Thou haft alone the fkill to feast
With Roman elegance of tae,
Who haft of rhymes as vaft refources
As Pompey's caterer of courfes.

Oh thou, of all the Nine in pir'd!
My languid foul, with teaching tir'd,
How is it raptur'd, when it thinks
On thy harmonious fet of chunks;
Each aufwering each in various rhymes,
Life Echo to St. Patric chimes!

Thy Mufe, majestic in her rage,
Moves like Statira on the ftage;
And fcarcely can one page fustain
The length of fuch a flowing train:
Her train, of variegated dye,
Alike they glow, alike they please,
Shews like Thaumantia's in the sky;
Alike impreft by Phoebus' rays.

Thy verf―(Ye Gods! I cannot bear it)
To what, to what fhall I compare it?
'Tis like, what I have oft' heard spoke on,
The famous ftatue of Laocoon.

' is like yes, 'tis very like it,
The long, long ftring, with which you fly kite,
?fis like what you, and one or two more,
Roar to your Echo* in good-humour;
And every couplet thou hast writ
Conclude like Raftan-whittah-whit†.

ON THE SAME PICTURE.

WHILST you three merry poets traffic

To give us a defcription graphic
Of Dan's large nofe in modern Sapphic;
Ifpend my time in making Sermons,
Or writing libels on the Germans,
Cr murmuring at Whigs' preferments.

But when I would find rhyme for Rochfort,

And look in English, French, and Scotch for 't, At laft I'm fairly forc'd to hotch for 't.

Bid Lady Betty recollect her,

And tell, who was it could dire& her
To draw the face of fuch a spectre.

I must confefs, that as to me, Sirs,
Though I ne'er faw her hold the fciffars,
I now could fafely fwear it is hers.

'Tis true, no nofe could come in better;
'Tis a vaft fubject ftuff `d with matter,
Which all may handle, none can flatter.
Take courage, Dan; this plainly shows,
That not the wifeft mortal knows
What fortune may befall his nofe.

Shew me the brightest Irish toast,

Above a fong, or two at moft;

Who from her lover e'er could boast

For thee three poets now are drudging all

Both to the picture and the face,

I should name them who do rehearse
The ftory of the picture-farce;
The Squire, in French as hard as stone,
Or ftrong as rock, that's all as one,
On face, on cards is very brifk, Sirs,
Becaufe on them you play at whisk, Sirs
But much I wonder, why my crany
Should envy'd be by De-el-any:
And yet much more, that half-name fake
Should join a party in the freak:
For fure I am it was not fafe
Thus to abufe his better half,
As I fhall prove you, Dan, to be,
Livim and conjunctively.

For if Dan love not Sherry, can
Sherry be any thing to Dan?
This is the cafe whene'er you fee
Dan makes nothing of Sherry;

Or fhould Dan be by Sherry o'erta'en,
Then Dan would be poor Sherridane:
'Tis hard then he fhould be decry'd
By Dan with Sherry by his tide.
But, if the cafe must be so hard,
That faces fuffer by a card,
Let criticks cenfure, what care IĮ
Back-biters only we defy :
Faces are free from injury.

MR. ROCHFORT'S REPLY. OU fay your face is better hung

Both of the picture and original.

Thy nofe's length and fame extend So far, dear Dan, that every friend Tries who fhall have it by the end.

And future poets, as they rife, Shall read with envy and furprise Thy nofe outshining Celia's eyes.

JON. SWIFT.

DAN JACKSON'S DEFENCE.

"My verfe little better you'll find than my face is, "A word to the wife-ut pictura poejis."

Tech me Dryladao s beter hung,
THREE merry lads, with envy ftung,

Combin'd in verfe to rhyme it down,
Ard in its place ft up their own;
As if they'd run it down much better.
By number of their feet in metre,
Or that its red did caufe their fpite,
Which made them draw in black and white.
Be that as 'twill, this is most true,
They were infpir'd by what they drew.
Let them fuch criticks know, my face
Gives them their comelinefs and grace;

In not explaining, you are wrong

to us, Sir.

merry.

You call'd Dan one half, and t'other half Sherry :
Now if Dan's a halt, 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 fay, Sir, for all you,
That Sherry's at least of double the value.
But perhaps, Sir, you did it to fill up the verfe :)
So crouds in a concert (like actors in farce)
Play two parts in one, when fcrapers are
feree.

But be that as 'twill, you'll know more anon,
Sir,

When Sheridan fends to Merry Dan answer.

"Cedo jam, miferæ cognofcens præmia rixæ,
"Si rixa eft, ubi tu pulfas, ego vapulo tantum.”
POOR Sherry, inglorious,
To Dan the victorious,
Prefents, as 'tis fitting,
Petition and greeting.

TO you victorious and brave,
Your now-fubdued and fuppliant flave

Moft humbly fues for pardon;

Who when I fought still cut me down,
And when I vanifh'd fled the town,

Pursued and laid me hard on.

Now lowly, crouch'd I cry peccavi,
And proftrate fupplicate feur ma vie:
Your mercy I rely on:

For you, my conqueror and my king,
In pardoning, as in punishing,

Will fhew yourself a lion.

Alas! Sir, I had no def gr,

But was unwarily drawn in;
For fpite I ne'er had any :

Dan's noble mettle, Sherry bafe;
So Dan's the better, though the lefs:
An ounce of gold's worth ten of brafs,

dull pedant!

As to your fpelling, let me fee,
If SHE makes her, and RI makes ry,
Good fpelling-mafter! your crany

Vol. V.

has lead on 't.

The devil and Delany ;

They tempted me t' attack your highness, And then, with wonted wile and flynefs,

They left me in the lurch:

Unhappy wretch! for now, I ween,
I've nothing left to vent my fpleen
But ferula and birch:

S s