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The torrent merciless imbibes
81 With asses' ears and dirty hands.
The Reverend Dr. SHERIDAN to
Written in the year 1712.
noddle this morn-
and their title. This I told you before, do you know what I mean,
Sir? *“ Not I, by my troth, Sir." Then read it a
gain, Sir: The reason I send you these lines of rhyines double, Is purely through pity to save you the trouble 16
* The Dean's answer.
Of thinking two hours for a rhyme as you did last; When your Pegasus canter'd in triple, and rid fast.
As for my little nag, which I keep at Parnassus, With Phoebus's leave, to run with his affes,
20 He goes flow and sure, and he never is jaded ; While your fiery steed is whipp’d, spurr'd, basti
Dean SWIFT's answer to the Reverend
SIR, IN reading
your letter alone in my hackney, Your damnable riddle my poor brains did rack
nigh, And when with much labour the matter I crackt, I found
mistaken in matter of fact. A woman's no fieve, (for with that you begin), Because she lets out inore than e'er she takes in, o And that she's a riddle, can never be right; For a riddle is dark, but a woman is light. But grant her a sieve, I can say something archer; Pray what is a man? he's a fine linen searcher. 10
Now tell me a thing that wants interpretation, What name for a maid *, was the first man's dam
nation ? If your worship will please to explain me this rebus, I swear from henceforward you shall be my Phoebus, From my hackney-coach, Sept. 11.
1712, pasl 12 at 100n.
A LETTER to the Rev. Dr. SHERIDAN.
Written in the year 1718.
Thus you may fee, dear friend, ex pede bence 15 My judgement of the old comedians,
Proceed to tragics, first Euripides (An author, where I sometimes dip a-days) Is rightly cenfur'd by the Stagirite, Who fays his numbers do not fadge aright. 20 A friend of mine that author despises So much, he twears the very best piece is, For aught he knows, as bad as Thespis's ;
* N. B. The Strand in London. The fact may be false, but the rhyme cost me fume trouble,
And that a woman, in those tragedies,
And now I find my muse but ill able
you return as hard ones if I call t'ye ?
Written in the year 1713, when the Queen's mini
fters were quarrelling among themselves *.
Try, lads, can you this bundle break;
* See more of the author's endeavours to procure a reconcilement among them, in the letters to and from Dr. Swift, in vol. 9.
See also free thoughts on the present fate of affairs.
. Keep close then, boys, and never quarrel. Here ends the fable and the moral.
This tale may be apply'd in few words
In history we never found,
Come, courtiers ; every man his stick : 35 Lord Treasurer t, for once be quick ; And that they inay the closer cling, Take your blue ribbon for a string. Come, trimming Harcourt f, bring your mace; And squeeze it in, or quit your place :
40 Dispatch ; or else that rascal Northey || Will undertake to do it for thee :
* Fasces, a burdle of rods or small sticks carried before the Consuls at Rome.
+ Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford. I Lord Chancellor.
Sir Edward Northey, Attorney-General, brought in by Lond Harcourt, yet very desirous of the great seal,