And if sometimes an easy vein,
With no defign, and little pain,
Form'd into verfe, hath pleas'd a while,
And caught the reader's tranfient smile,
My mufe hath answer'd all her ends,
Pleafing herself, while pleas'd her friends
But, fond of liberty, difdains
To bear restraint, or clink her chains;
Nor would, to gain a Monarch's FAVOUR
Let dulness, or her fons, enflave her.*
These two laft lines were added by the Editor the piece was originally addreffed on a particular od
THE SPIRIT OF CONTRADICTION.
very fillieft things in life
Create the moft material ftrife.
What scarce will fuffer a debate,
Will oft produce the bittereft hate.
It is, you fay; I fay 'tis not
-Why you grow warm
and you are hot. Thus each alike with paffion glows, And words come firft, and, after, blows.
Friend JERKIN had an income clear,
Some fifteen pounds, or more, a year,
And rented, on the farming plan,
Grounds at much greater fums per ann.
A man of confequence, no doubt,
'Mongst all his neighbours round about;
He was of frank and open mind,
Too honeft to be much refin'd,
Would smoke his pipe, and tell his tale,
Sing a good fong, and drink his ale.
His wife was of another mould;
age was neither young nor old ;
Her features ftrong, but fomewhat plain;
Her air not bad, but rather vain;
Her temper neither new nor ftrange,
A woman's, very apt to change;
What she moft hated was conviction,
What fhe most lov'd, flat CONTRADICTION.
A charming housewife ne'ertheless;
-Tell me a thing she could not dress,
Soups, hafhes, pickles, puddings, pies,
Nought came amiss-she was so wife.
For fhe, bred twenty miles from town,
Had brought a world of breeding down,
And Cumberland had seldom seen
A farmer's wife with fuch a mein;
She could not bear the found of Dame;
-No-Miftrefs JERKIN was her name.
She could harangue with wond'rous grace
On gowns and mobs, and caps and lace;
But tho' fhe ne'er adorn'd his brows,
She had a vaft contempt for spouse,
As being one who took no pride,
And was a deal too countrified.
Such were our couple, man and wife;
Such were their means and ways of life.
Once on a time, the feafon fair For exercife and chearful air,
It happen'd in his morning's roam,
He kill'd his birds, and brought them home.
-Here, CICELY, take away my gun-
How fhall we have thefe ftarlings done?
Done! what love? Your wits are wild ;
Starlings, my dear; they're thrushes child.
Nay now but look, confider, wife,
They're ftarlings-No-upon my life:
Sure I can judge as well as you,
I know a thrush and starling too.
Who was it shot them, you or I?
They're ftarlings-thrushes - zounds you lie.
Pray, Sir, take back your dirty word,
I fcorn your language as your bird;
It ought to make a husband blush,
To treat a wife so 'bout a thrush.
Thrufh, Cicely!-Yes-a ftarling-No,
The lie again, and then a blow.
Blows carry ftrong and quick conviction,
And mar the pow'rs of contradiction.
Or keep the ball up of debate
Against these arguments of weight.
A year roll'd on in perfect ease, 'Twas as you like, and what you please, 'Till in its course and order due, Came March the twentieth, fifty two. Quoth Cicely, this is charming life, No tumults now, 'no blow, no ftrife. What fools we were this day last year Lord, how you beat me then, my dear! -Sure it was idle and abfurd
To wrangle fo about a bird;
A bird not worth a single rush-
A ftarling-no, my love, a thrush,
That I'll maintain-that I'll deny.
-You're wrong, good husband-wife, y
Again the self-fame wrangle rose,
Again the lye, again the blows.
Thus every year (true man and wife)
Enfues the fame domeftic ftrife.
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