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I thus begin : My grateful Muse

With Dennis you did ne'er combine, Salutes the Dean in dinerent views;

Not you, to steal your master's wine ; Dean, butler, usher, jetter, tutor ;

Except a bottle now and then, *Robert and Darby's coadjutor:

To wclcome brother serving-inen: And, as you in commission fit,

But that is with a good deigo, To rule the dairy next to fKit.

To drink Sir Arthur's health aod nije; In each capacity I mean

Your master's honour to maintain, To fing your praise. And first as Dean: And get the like returps agais. Envy muit own, you understand your

Your i uther's poit mult next be harded: Precedence, and support your grandeur ; How bless'd am I by such a man led! Nor of your rank will bate an ace,

Under whose wife and careiul gliarditip Except to give Dean Daniel place.

I now despise fatigue and hardthip: In you such dignity appears ;

Familiar grown to oirt aid wei, So fuited to your state and years !

Though daggled round, I scorn to fret: With dadies what a !trict decorum!

From you my chamber-damfots learn With what devotion you adore 'ein!

My broken hoie to patch and dearn, Treat me with so much complaisance,

Now as a je er 1 accolt you; As fits a princess in roniarce!

Which never yet one friend has loft you. By your example and assistance,

You judge so nicely to a hair, The fellows learn to know their distance.

How far to go, and when to fpare ; Sir Arthur, since you set the pattern,

By long experience grown so wife, No longer calls me (nipe and pattern;

Of every tafie to know the lze ; Nor dares he, though he were a duke,

There is none so ignorant or weak Ofend me with the least rebuke.

To take offence at what you speak. Proceed we to your preaching next : Whene'er you joke, 'tis all a case How nice you split the harde it text!

Whether with Dermot, or His Grace ; How your superior learning Mines

With Teague C'Murphey, or an Earl ;' Above our neighbouring du!l divines !

A ducheis, or a kitchen-girl. At Beggars' Opera not so full pit

With such dexterity you bit Is feen, as when you mount our pulpit.

Their several talents with your wit, Consider now your conversation :

That Moll the chamber-maid can finoke, Regardful of your age and liation,

And Gabagan take every joke. You ne'er was known, by passion stirrd,

I now become your bumble suitor To give the last offentive word;

To let me praise you as my tuter g. But itill, whene'er you silence break,

Poor 1, a favage bred and bor), Watch every syllable you speak :

By you instructed every morn, Your style so clear, and so concise,

Alri ady have im proy'd so well, We never ask to hear you twice,

That I have almost learnt to spell: But then, a parfon fo genteel,

The neighbours who come here to dige, So nicely clad from head to heel;

Admire to hear me speak to fine. So fine a gowi, a band so clean,

How enviously the ladies look, As well become St, Patrick's Dean,

When they surprise me at my book! Such reverential awe express,

And sure as they're alive at night, That cow-boy's know you by your dress! As foon as gone will now their Tpight : Then, if our neighbouring friends come here, Good lord! what can my lady mean, How proud are we when you appear,

Convering with that rufty Dean! With such address and graceful port,

She's grown ii nice, and so perurica!y As clearly thews you bred at court!

With Socrates and Epicurius. Now raise your fpirits, Mr. Dean,

How could the fit the live-long day, I lead you to a nobler scene,

Yet never ask us once to play? When to the vault you walk in state.

But I admire your patience moft; In quality of butler's-mate;

That when I'm duller than a post, You next to FDennis bear the sway :

Nor can the plaineft word pronounce, To you we often trust the key :

You neither fume, nor rret, nor fiounce; Nor can he judge with all his art

Are fo indulgent, and so mild,
So well, what bottle holds a quart;

As if I were a darling child,
What pints may best for bottles pass,
Just to give every man his glass;
When proper to produce the best,

* He sometimes used to walk with the lady. F. And what may serve a common guest.

+ The' neighbouring ladies were re great settings

standers of raillery. F. * The names of two overseers.

Te clown that cut down the old there a:.H.

ket-Hill.' See above, p. 366. of My lady's foot mar The author freached but once whil? he w?s $ In bad weather the auther wed to dire

lady in her reading. F. there.

$ The builer.

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So gentie is your whole proceeding,

For 'tis profane when sexes mingle; That I could spend my life in reading.

And every nymph must enter fingle, You merit new employments daily :

And when the feels an inward motion, Our thatcher, ditcher, gardener, baily.

Come filled with reverence and devotion. And to a genius fo extensive

The bathful maid, to hide our blush, Nor work is grievous or offensive ;'

Shall creep no more behind a burh ; Whether your fruitful fancy lies

Here urobferv'd the boldly goes, To make for pigs convenient ttyes ;

As who should say, to pluck a rose. Or ponder loog with anxious thought

Ye who frequent this hallow'd scene,
To banitha rats that haunt our vaulo:

Be not ungrateful to the Dean;
Nor have you grumbled, reverend Dean, But duly, ere you leave your station,
To keep our poultry sweet and clean ;

Offer to him a pure libation
To sweep the manhon-house they dwell in, Or of his own or Smedley's lay,
Ard cure the rank unsavory smelling:

Or billet-doux, or lock or hay:
Now enter as the dairy hand-maid;

And, oh! may all who hither come; ench charming #butter never man made. Return with unpolluted thumb! Let others with fanatic face

Yet, when your lofty domes I praise, Talk of their milk for buites of grace;

I sigh to think of ancient days. From rubs their snufting nontense útter :

Permit me then to raise my style, Thy nilk shall make us iubs of butter.

And swee#ly moralize awhile. The bishop with his foct may burn itt,

Thee, bounteous goddess Cloacine, But with his hand the Dean can churn it.

To temples why do we confine ? How are the servants overjoy'd

Forbid in open air to breathe, To see thy Deanship thuis employ'd!

Why are thine altars fixt beneath ? Indicad of poring on a book,

When Saturn rul'd the Bcies alone Providing butter for the cook!

(That golden age to gold unknown); Three niorning-hours you toss and Make This earthly globe, to thee aflign'd, The bottle till your fingers ache :

Receiv'd the gifts of all mankind. Hard is the toil, nor small the art,

Ten thousand altars (moaking round The butter from the whey to part:

Were built to thee with offerings crown'd; Behold a frothy substance rife;

And here thy dily votaries plac'd Be cautious, or your bottle flies.

Their sacrifice with zeal and haste: The butter comes, our fears are ceas'd;

The margin of a purling stream And out you squeeze an ounce at least.

Sent up to thee a grateful team Your Reverence thus, with like success (Though sometimes thou wert pleas'd to wink, (Nor is your file or labour less),

If Naiads swept them from the brink). When bent upon foine smart lainpoon,

Or where appointing lovers rove, Will toss and turn your brain till noon;

The shelter of a shady grove ; Which, in its jumbling; round the ikull,

Or, offer'd in some Howery vale, Dilates and makes the vessel full :

Were wasted by a gentle gaic : While nothing comes but froth at firat,

There many a tlower abiter' ve grew, You think your giddy head will busst;

The favourite flowers of yellow hue ; But, squeezing out four lines in rhyme,

The crocus, and the daffodil, Are largely paid for ail your time.

The cowlip soft, and sweet jonquil, But you have rais'cl your generous mind

But when at lait ufurping Jove To works of more exalted kind.

Old Satura from his empire drove ; Pilladio was not half fo kill'd in

Then giuitory with greasy paws The grandeur or the art of building,

Her napkin pinn’d up to her jaws, Two temples of magnific size

With watery chaps, and wagging ching Attrad the curious traveller's eyes,

Brac d like a drum her oily skin; That might be envy'd by the Greeks;

Wedg'd in a spacious elbow-chair; Raii'd up by you in twenty weeks :

And on her pla:e a treble Mare, Here gentle goddes; (loacine

As if the ne'er could have enough, Receives all offerings at her hrine.

Taught harmless man'to cram and stuff. Jii feparate cells the he's and he's

She sent her priest in wooden shoes
Here pay their vows with benied knees :

From haughty Gaul to make raçoos;
Instead of wholesome bread ard cheese,

To dress their soups and fricasseer;
4 w.ny of making butter for breakf.ilt, by fill And, for our bome-bred British cheer,
ing a bolile with creuni, and making it till the bura Botargo, catsup, and caveer.

This l_rated harpy, sprung from hell,

Confn'd thee, goddess, to a cell: † It is a common ving, when the milk burns-tor | Contemners of thy rights divine.

Sprung from her wonb that impious line, chutine devil cr tre 1:11.0p has fet his foot in it, the First, lolling feth in woollen cap de vil having been called biflicp of hell. F.

Taking her after-didaer nap: VOL, V.


ter comes.

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Pale dreply with a fallow face,
Her belly burst, and slow her pace :
And lordly gout, wrapt up in fur;
And wheezing asihma, loth to stir :
Voluptuous ease, the child of wealth,
Infecting thus our hearts by Realth
None seek thee now in open air,
To thee no verdant altars rear;
But in their cells and vaults obscene
Present a facrifice unclean ;
From whence unfavory vapours rose,
Offensive to thy nicer nose.
Ah! who, in our degenerate days,
As nature prompts, bis offering pays?
Here nature never difference made
Between the sceptre and the spade.

Ye great-ones, why will ye disdain
To pay your tribute on the plain?
Why will you place, in lazy pride,
Your altars near your couches' fide ;
When from the homelieft earthen ware
Are sent up efferings more fincere,
Than where the haughty dutchefs locks
Her filver vase in cedar-box?

Yet some devotion ftill remains
Among our harmless northern swains,
Whose offerings, plac'd in golden ranks,
Adorn our cryftal rivers' banks ;
Nor seldom grace the flowery downs,
With spiral tops and copple-crowns;
Or gilding in a funny morp
The humble branches of a thorn,
So, poets fing, with golden bough
The Trojan hero paid his vow.

Hither, by luckless error led,
The crude consistence oft I treat:
Here, when my shoes are out of case,
Unweeting gild the tarrift'd lace ;
Here by the sacred brainble ting'd,
My petticoat is doubly fring'd.

Be witnefs for me, nymph d vine,
I never robb'di thee with delign:
Xor will the zealous Hannah pout
To wah thy injur'd offering out.

But stop, ambitious Muft, in time,
Nor dwell on subjects too sublime.
In vain on lofty heels I triad,
Apiring to exalt my head;
With honp expandied wide and light,
In vain I 'tempt ino high a flight.

Me Phrbus ir a midnight dream
Accofting fairl, ** Gothake your cream.”
Be humbly minded, know your poft ;
Sweeten your tea, a:d waicii your toast,
Thee beft befits a lowly style ::
Teach Dennis how to stir the fg vile :
With Peggy Dixon thoughtullit,
Contriving for the pot and spit.
Take down thy proudly swelling fails,
And rub thy teeth, and pare thy nails :
At nicely-carving thew thy wit;
But ne'er presume to eat a bit :

* boy one bei:le, te make butter.
| Tequirtity of ale or ber hresved at one time.

Mrs. Dixox. ije houfo-koejer.

II. By disputing, I will never,

To convince you, once endeavour,
III. When a paradox you stick to,

I will never contradict you.
IV. When I talk, and you are beedless,

I will new no anger needless.
V. When your speeches are absurd,

I will ne'er object a word.
VI, When you furious argue wrong,

I will grieve, and hold my tongue.
VII. Not a jest or humorous story

* Will I ever tell be!ore ye :
To be chidden for explaining,

When you quite mistake the meaning,
VIII. Never more will I suppose,

You can taste my verse or prose.
IX. You po more at me lhall fret,

While I teach, and you forget.
x. You fall never hear me thunder,
When blunder

on, and blunder.
X!, Shew your porerty of spirit.

And in tref: place all your merit;
Give yourself ieņ thousand air;;

T'hat with me all break no squares.
XII. Never will I give advice,

Till you please to ask me thrice :
Which if you in scorn rejeci,
"Twill be just as I expect.

Thus we both mall have our ends,
And continue fpecial friends.



ROM diftant regions Fortune fends

An odd triumvirate of friends ;
Where Phabus pays a scanty fiiperd,
Where never yet a codlin ripei'd :
Hither the frantic goddess draws
Three sufierers in a ruin'd cause :

By fallion banish'd, here unite,
A Dean*, a Spaniardt, and a Knight;
Unite, but on conditions cruel :
The Dean and Spaniard find it too well,
Condemn'd to live in service hard ;
On either side his honour'' guard:
The Dean, to guard his honour's back,
Muft build a cattle at Drumlack ;
The Spaniard, fore againtt his will,
Must raise a fort at Market-hill.
And thus the pair of humble gentry
At xerih and jewth are posted centry ;
While, in his lordly castle fixt,
The Knight triumphant reigns betwixt :
And, what the wretches molt resent,
To be his slaves, must pay him rent;
Attend him daily as thcir chief,
Decant his wine, and carve his beef.
On, Fortune! 'uis a fcandal for thee
Toimile on those who are leaft worthy :
Weigh but the merits of the three,
His llaves have ten times more than he.

Proud Baronet of Nova Scotia !
The Dean and Spaniard must reproach ye :
Of their two fames the world enough rings:
Where are thy services and sufferings?
What if for nothing once you kist,
Against the grain, a monarch's fift?
What if, among the courtly tribe,
You loft a place, and fav'd a bribe?

And then in surly mood came here i To fifteen hundred pounds a year, ! And fierce against the Whigs barangu’d?

You never ventur'd to be hang'd.
How dare you treat your betters thus ?
Are you to be compar'd with us?

Come, Spaniard, let us from our farms
Call forth our cottagers to arms;
Our forces let us both unite,
Attack the foe at left and right;
From Market-ball's exalted head,
Full northward let your troops he led;
While I from Drapier's mount descend,
And to the south my squadrons bend.
New-river-wal's with friendly Thade
Sall keep my hoft in ambuscade ;
While you, from where the bason stands,
Shall scale the rampart with your bands,
Nor need we doubt the fort to win ;
I hold intelligence within.
True, Lady Anne no danger fears,
Brave as the Upton tan the wears ;
Then, left upon our frit attack
Her val ant arm should force us back,
And we of all our hopes depriv'd;
I have a stratagem contrivd.
By these embroider'd high-hee'd shoes
She shall be caught as in a noose ;
So well contriv'd her toes to pinch,
She 'll not have power to stir an inch:

These gaudy shoes muft Hannah place
Direct before her lady's face ;
The shoes put on, our faithful portress
Admits us in, to storm the fortress;
While tortur d Madam bound remains,
Like Montezume, in golden chains ;
Or like a cat with walnuts Molly
Stumbling at every step the trod:
Sly hunters thus, in Borneo's ifle,
To catch a monkey by a wile,
The mimic animal amuse;

They place before him gloves and shoes;
Which when the brute puts awkward on,
All his agility is gone :
In vam to friik or climb he tries;
The huntsmen feize the grinning prize.

But let us on our first aftult
Secure the larder and the vault:
The valiant Dennis* you must fix on,
And I'll engage with Peggy Dixont :
Then, if we once can seize the key
And cheft that keeps my lady's tea,
They must furrender at discretion ;
And, foon as we have gain'd poffeffion,
We'll act as other conquerors do,
Divide the realm between us two :
Then (let me fee) we 'll make the Knight
Our clerk, for he can read and write ;
But must not think, I tell him that,
Like Lorimer to wear his hat :
Yet, when we dine without a friend,
We'll place him at the lower end.
Madam, whose kiil vloes all in dress lie,
May serve to wait on Mrs. Leilie;
But, left it might not be to proper
That her own maid should over-top her,
To mortify the creature more,
We'll take her heels five inches lower,

For Hannah, when we have no need of ber,
"Twill be our interest to get rid of her:
And, when we execute our plot,
Jis bett to hang her on the spot;
As all your politicians wise
Difpatch the rogues by whom they rise.

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* Dr. Swift,
+ Col. Harry Leflie, who

fórved ard lived long in Spain. See p. 399.

Sir Arthur Acheson

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Why must he fputter, spawi, and saver it Who o’er eacla ftring and wirs prefide,
In vain against the people's favourite?

Fill every pipe, each motion guide ;
Revile that nation-saving paper,

Directing every vice we End
Which gave the Dean the name of Drapier? In Scripture, to the devil allign'd;

R. Why, Tom, I think the case is plain; Sent from the dark insersal region,
Party and spleen have turn'd his brain.

In him they lodge, and make him legione
T. Such friendship never man profest,

Of brethren be 's a fat, e accuser ;
The Dean was never so carett;

A flanderer, traitor, and seducer;
For Traulus long bis rancour nursid,

A fawwing, baie, trepancing liar;
Till, God kuows why, at last it burst,

The inarks peculiar of his fr..
That clum'y outside of a porter,

Cr, grant him but a drone at best,
How could it thus conccal a courtier ?

A drope can raise a hornet's neft.
R. lown, appearances are bad;

The Dean had felt ibeir stings before ;
Yet still in fist the man is mad,

And muit their malice ne'er give o'er? T. Yet many a wretch in Bedlam knows Still fwarm and buzz about bis pole? How to distinguish friends from foes;

But Ireland's friends ne'er wanted foes,
And, though perhaps among the rout

A patriot is a dangerous poft,
He wildiy fings his filth about,

When wanted by his country moit ;
He still has gratitude and fap'ence,

Perversely comes in cvil times,
To spare the folks that give hiın ha'pence ; Where virtues are inputed crines.
Nor in their eyes at random pisles,

His guilt is clear, the proofs are pregnant ;
But turns aside like mad Ulysses :

A traitor to the vice regrant.
While Traulus all his ordure fcatters

What spirit, fince the world began,
To foul the man he chieriy natters,

Could always bear to jirive with man? Whence come these inconfiftent fits?

Which God pronounc'd, he never would,
R. Why, Tom, the man has lost his wits. And foon convinc'd them by a flood.

T. Agreed: and yet, when Towzer snaps Yet still the Dean on freedom raves ;
At people's heels with frothy chaps,

His fpirit always ftrives with Naves.
Hangs down his hear, and drops his tail, Tis time at lait to spare his ink,
To say he is mad, will not avail;

And let them rot, or hang, or link.
The neighbours all cry, “ Shoot him dead,
“ Hang, drown, or knack him on the head."
So Traulus when he first barangu'd,
I wonder why he was not hang'd;
For of the two, without diipute,
Towzer 's the less offení ve brute.

R. Tom, you mistake the matter quite;
Your barking curs will seldom bite ;
And though you hear bim stut-tut-tut-ter,

"RAULUS, of amphibious breed, He barks as fast as he can utter.

Motley fruit of mungrel feed;
He prates in fpite of all impediment,

By the dam from lordlings fprung,
While none believes that what he said he meant ; By the fire exbald from dung :
Puts in his finger and his thunb

Think on every vice in both;
To grope for words, and out they come.

Look on him, and lee their growth.
He calls you rogue ; there's nothing in it,

View him on the inother's ide,
He fawns upon you in a minute :

Fill'd with falle nood, spleen, and pride ;
“ Bags leave to rail, but, dan his blood ! Politive and overixaring,
“ He only meant it for your good :

Changing still, and till adhering ;
“ His friendship was exactly timid,

Spiteful, peevith, rude, untoward,
” He shot before your focs were prim'd. Fierce in tongue, in heart a coward ;
By this contrivance, Mr. Dcan,

When his friends he most is hard on,
" By G--! I'll bring you off as clean- *}' Cringing comes to beg their pardon;
Then let him use you e er so rough,

Reputation ever teari: g,
“ 'Twas all for love," and that's enough.

Ever dearest friendthip swearing;
Eut, though he sputter through a fellion, Judgment weak, and passion ftrong,
J? never makes the least imprellion :

Always various, always wrong;
Whate'er he speaks for madness goes,

Provocation never waits,
With no effect on iriends or foes.

Where he loves, or where he bates;
T. 111e fcrubbieft cur in all the pack

Talks whate'er comes in his head;
Cao set the mastiff on your back,

Wishes it were all unfaid.
his madness is a jeit,

Let me now the vices trace,
If that were all. But he's pofTeft,

From the father's scoundrel race.
Incarnate with a thousand impi,

Who could give the looby such airs? To work whose end; bis madness pimps; Were they mafens, were they butchers? * This is the usual excuse of Traulus, when he Herald, lend the Muse an answer

From his atavus and grandfire : abiajes you 10 others without provocation,



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