Whofe lucky hand administers repose
As well to breaking heart, as broken nose;
Accept this tribute: think it all I had,
In recompence of thine, when I was fad.
What though it comes from an unpractis'd Mufe,
Bad at the beft, grown worse by long difufe;
In filence loft, fince once I did complain
Of Wiv-l's cold neglect in humble strain ;
When, check'd by flavish confcience, she deny'd
To throw afide the niece, and act the bride:
Yet fure I may be thought among the throng
If not to fing, to whiftle out a fong:
Then take the kind remembrance of my verfe,
While Dingle's lofs with forrow I rehearse.
Dingle is loft, the hollow caves refound
Dingle is loft, and multiply the found;
Till Echo, chaunting it by juft degree,
Shortens to Ding, then foftens it to D.
Dingle is loft; where 's now the parent's care,
The boafted force of piety and prayer?
No more fhall fhe within thy fpacious hall
Lead up the dance, and animate the ball;
Deferted thus, no more fhalt thou engage
Under the roof to Whartonize the age.
Train'd by thy care, by thy example led,
Early the learnt to fcorn the nuptial bed;
In vain by thy advice enlarg'd her mind,
And vow'd, like thee, to multiply her kind:
For Dingle thou didft bless the nether skies;
In hopes a mingled race might once arise,
To footh thy hoary age, and clofe thy dying eyes.