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For should I break

your

sweet Repose, Who knows what Money you might lose ? Since oftentimes it has been found, A Dream has giv'n ten thousand Pound. Then sleep, my Friend, dear Dean, sleep on, And all

your own ; Provided

agree, That all

you

lose belongs to me.

you get shall be
you to this

The DEAN's Answer.

SS

O about twelve at Night, the Punk

Steals from the Cully when he's drunk ; Nor is contented with a Treat, Without her Privilege to cheat : Nor can I the least Diff'rence find, But that

you left no Clap behind. But Jest apart, restore, you Capon ye, My twelve * Thirteens and Six-pence Ha'penny. To eat my Meat, and drink my Medlicot, And then to give me such a deadly CutBut 'tis observ'd, that Men in Gowns Are most inclin'd to plunder Crowns. Could

you

but change a Crown as easy As

steal
one,
how 'twould please ye !

I

you can

* An English Shilling passeth for thirteen Pence in Ireland,

I thought the * Lady at St. Cath’rines
Knew how to set you better Patterns;
For this I will not dine with † Agmondisham,
And for his Victuals let a Ragman dish 'em.

Saturday Night.

On the LITTLE House by the CHURCH YARD

of Castleknock. HOEVER pleaseth to enquire,

Why yonder Steeple wants a Spire, The grey old Fellow, Poet I Joe, The philosophic Cause will shew.

WH

Once on a Time, a western Blast,
At least twelve Inches overcast,
Reck’ning Roof, Weather-cock, and all,
Which came with a prodigious Fall;
And tumbling topsi-turvy round,
Light with its Bottom on the Ground.

For by the Laws of Gravitation, It fell into its

proper
Station.

This * Lady Montcafbel.

+ Agmondisham Vesey, Esq: a very worthy Gentleman, for whom the Author had a great Esteem. Mr. Beamont, of Trim.

This is the little strutting Pile, You see just by the Church-yard Stile ; The Walls in tumbling gave a Knock, And thus the Steeple got a Shock; From whence the neighb’ring Farmer calls The Steeple, Knock; the Vicar, * Walls,

The Vicar once a Week creeps in, Sits with his Knees 'up to his Chin ; Here conns his Notes, and takes a Whet, 'Till the small ragged Flock is met.

A Traveller, who by did pass, Observ'd the Roof behind the Grass; On Tiptoe stood and rear'd his Snout, And saw the Parson creeping out; Was much surpriz'd to see a Crow Venture to build his Neft fo low.

A School-boy ran unto't and thought The Crib was down, the Blackbird caught, A Third, who lost his Way by Night, Was forc'd, for Safety, to alight, And stepping o'er the Fabrick Roof, His Horse had like to spoil his Hoof.

Warburton

* Reverend Archdeacon Wail.

Warburton took it in his Noddle,
This Building was design'd a Model,
Or of a Pigeon-house, or Oven,
To bake one Loaf, and keep one Dove in.
Then Mrs. * Johnson gave her Verdiet,
And

every one was pleas'd, that heard it : All that

you

make this Stir about,
Is but a Still without a Spout.
The Rev'rend Dr. $ Raymond guess’d,
More probably than all the rest;
He said, but that it wanted Room,
It might have been a Pigmy's Tomb.

The Doctor's Family came by,
And little Miss began to cry;
Give me that House in my own Hand;
Then Madam bid the Chariot stand,
Call'd to the Clerk in manner mild,
Pray reach that Thing, here to the Child;
That Thing, I mean, among the Kale,
And here's to buy a Pot of Ale.

The Clerk faid to her in a Heat, What, fell

my Master's Country Seat? Where he comes ev'ry Week from Town; He would not fall it for a Crown.

Poh! * A Friend of the Author's, known by the Name of STELLA.

+ Minister of Trim.

Poh! Fellow keep not such a Pother,
In half an Hour thou'lt make another.

Says * Nancy, I can make for Miss, A finer House ten times than this; The Dean will give me Willow Sticks, And Joe my Apron full of Bricks.

The Author and his FRIENDS used to divert

themselves, for Amusement, in making RIDDLES, some of which have been printed in the second Volume of his Works, and were well received, as we hope the following will be, although we cannot tell the Authors of each.

A RID D L E.

I

With borrow'd Silver shine,
What

you

fee is none of mine ; First I shew

you

but a Quarter,
Like the Bow that guards the Tartar;
Then the Half, and then the Whole,
Ever dancing round a Pole.

AN O THE R.

WI

HAT will raise

your

Admiration,
I am not one of God's Creation,

But

* The Waiting Woman.

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