The squire and captain took their stations, And twenty other near relations. Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke A sigh in suffocating smoke; While all their hours were pass'd between Insulting repartee or spleen. Thus, as her faults each day were known, He thinks her features coarser grown : He fancies every vice she shows, Or thins her lip or points her nose; Whenever rage or envy rise, How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes! He knows not how, but so it is, Her face is grown a knowing phiz- And, though her fops are wondrous civil, He thinks her ugly as the devil. Now, to perplex the ravel'd noose, Lo! the small-pox-whose horrid glare And, rifling every youthful grace, Left but the remnant of a face. The glass, grown hateful to her sight, Reflected now a-perfect fright. Each former art she vainly tries To bring back lustre to her eyes; And even the captain quit the field. Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack The rest of life with anxious Jack, Perceiving others fairly flown, Attempted pleasing him alone. Jack soon was dazzled to behold For tawdry finery is seen A person ever neatly clean; No more presuming on her sway, A NEW SIMILE IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT.' LONG had I sought in vain to find A chapter out of Tooke's Pantheon, Printed in the Essays, 1765. I have adopted the improved text which appears in the second edition of the Essays, 1766. The verses, in both editions, have the mysterious signature *J. B.-Line 6. Tooke The Rev. Andrew Tooke, F.R.S. and master of Charterhouse school. His Pantheon, a revised translation from the Latin of father Pomey, became the favourite synopsis of mythology. He died in 1731. |