Who weaves the chaplet, or provides the bays,
For fuch Wool-gathering Sonnetteers as these?
Hence then, ye bomefpun Witlings, that perfuade
Mifs Cloe to the fashion of her maid.

Shall the wide Hoop, that standard of the town,
Thus act fubfervient to a Poplin Gown?
Who'd smell of wool all over? 'Tis enough
The under-petticoat be made of stuff.
Lord! to be wrapt in flannel just in May,
When the fields drefs'd in flowers appears fo
And shall not Mifs be flower'd as well as they?
In what weak colours would the plaid appear,
Work'd to a quilt, or studded in a chair!
The skin, that vies with filk, would fret with ftuff;
Or who could bear in bed a thing fo rough?

Ye knowing Fair, how eminent that bed,

gay!

}

Where the Chintze diamonds with the Silken Thread,
Where rustling curtains call the curious eye,
And boast the streaks and paintings of the sky!"
Of flocks they'd have your milky ticking full;
And all this for the benefit of wool!'

"But where," say they, "fhall we bestow these

"Weavers,

"That spread our streets, and are fuch piteous cravers?"
The Silk-worms (brittle beings!) prone to fate,
Demand their care to make their webs complete :
These may they tend, their promises receive;
We cannot pay too much for what they give!

ON GAULSTOWN HOUSE.

"TIS

BY DR. DELANY *.

IS so old, and so ugly, and yet fo convenient, You 're fometimes in pleasure, though often in pain in 't.

'Tis fo large you may lodge a few friends with ease in't. You may turn and stretch at your length if you please

in 't ;

'Tis fo little, the family live in a prefs in 't,

And poor lady Betty † has fcarce room to drefs in 't ; 'Tis fo cold in the winter, you can't bear to lie in 't, And fo hot in the fummer, you 're ready to fry in 't ; "Tis so brittle 'twould scarce bear the weight of a tun, Yet fo ftaunch, that it keeps out a great deal of fun; 'Tis fo crazy, the weather with eafe beats quite through it,

And

you 're forc'd every year in fome part to renew it, 'Tis fo ugly, fo useful, fo big, and fo little,

'Tis fo ftaunch, and so crazy, so strong, and so brittle, 'Tis at one time fo hot, and another fo cold,

It is

new, and of the old ;

part

of the part It is just half a blessing, and just half a curse

I wish then, dear George, it were better or worse.

*The feat of George Rochfort, efq. (father to the earl of Belvidere); where Dr. Swift and an agreeable fett of friends fpent part of the fummer of 1721.

+ Daughter to the earl of Drogheda, and the wife of Mr. Rochfort.

THE

THE

COUNTRY-LIFE.

Part of a Summer spent at GAULSTOWN-HOUSE.

THALIA, tell in fober lays,

How George, Nimt, Dant, Dean §, pafs their days;

And, fhould our Gaulftown's art grow fallow,

Yet Neget quis carmina Gallo?

Here (by the way) by Gallus mean I
Not Sheridan, but friend Delany.

Begin, my Muse. First from our bowers
We fally forth at different hours;
At feven the Dean, in night-gown dreft,
Goes round the house to wake the reft;
At nine, grave Nim and George facetious
Go to the Dean, to read Lucretius;
At ten, my Lady comes and hectors,
And kiffes George, and ends our lectures;
And when she has him by the neck fast,
Halls him, and fcolds us down to breakfast.

We fquander there an hour or more,
And then all hands, boys, to the oar,

All, heteroclite Dan except,

Who neither time nor order kept,

*Mr. Rochfort.

5

10

1-5

+ His brother, Mr. John Rochfort; who was called

Nimrod, from his great attachment to the chace.

Rev. Daniel Jackson.

Dr. Swift.

But,

But, by peculiar whimûes drawn,
Peeps in the ponds to look for spawn;
O'erfees the work, or Dragon rows,
Or mars a text, or mends his hofe;
Or-but proceed we in our journal—
At two, or after, we return all :

From the four elements affembling,

Warn'd by the bell, all folks come trembling :
From airy garrets fome defcend,

Some from the lake's remoteft end :
My Lord † and Dean the fire forsake,

Dan leaves the earthly spade and rake:

25

30

The loiterers quake, no corner hides them,

And lady Betty foundly chides them.

Now water's brought, and dinner's done:

35

With "Church and King" the lady 's gone :

George, Nim, and Dean, fet out at four,
And then again, boys, to the oar.
But when the fun goes to the deep
(Not to disturb him in his sleep,

A fmall boat fo called.

45

+ Mr. Rochfort's father was lord chief baron of the

exchequer in Ireland.

Or

Or make a rumbling o'er his head,

His candle out, and he a-bed)

We watch his motions to a minute,
And leave the flood when he goes in it.
Now ftinted in the fhortening day,
We go to prayers, and then to play,
Till fupper comes; and after that
We fit an hour to drink and chat.
'Tis late—the old and younger pairs,
By Adam lighted, walk up ftairs.

*

The weary Dean goes to his chamber;
And Nim and Dan to garret clamber.
So when the circle we have run,
The curtain falls, and all is done.

I might have mention'd feveral facts,
Like episodes between the acts ;
And tell who lofes and who wins,

Who gets a cold, who breaks his fhins;
How Dan caught nothing in his net,
And how the boat was overfet.

For brevity I have retrench'd

How in the lake the Dean was drench'd:

It would be an exploit to brag on,

55

How valiant George rode o'er the Dragon;

*70

How steady in the storm he sat,

And fav'd his oar, but loft his hat:

Now Nim (no hunter e'er could match him)
Still brings us hares, when he can catch them :

*The butler.

How