To Dr. SHERIDAN. EAR Sheridan! a gentle Pair Dof ; Of Gallftown Lads (for fuch they are) Nor praise I lefs that Circumcifion, Makes thy Verse smooth, and makes them last. Or elfe, be fure, your Broad-cloth Breeches S 2 are, By By leaving out the needless Vowels You fave the Charge of Lime and Trowels. Each groov'd, and dove-tail'd like a Box. Thy Words together ty'd in small Hanks Philologers of future Ages, How will they pore upon thy Pages! To make a Work compleatly fine, Number and Weight and Measure join; Then all must grant your Lines are weighty, Where thirty weigh as much as eighty. All All must allow your Numbers more, Where twenty Lines exceed fourfcore; Long, long, long, long, like Dan's long Nose. A REBUS, written by a* LADY, on the Reverend Dr. SWIFT. NUT the Name of the MAN Jo-Sepb. who his MISTRESS deny'd, CU And let the first of it be only apply'd To join with the PROPHET who Nathan. DAVID did chide. Then say what a Horse is that runs very faft, And that which deferves to be first put the laft; Spell all then, and put them together to find The Name and the Virtue of Him I defign'd. Like the Patriarch in Egypt, he's vers❜d in the State, Like the Prophet in Jeury, he's free with the Great, Mrs. Vanhomrigh. Like Like a Racer he flies to fuccour with Speed, When his Friends want his Aid, or Defert is in Need, THE His ANSWER. HE NYMPH who wrote this in an I cannot but envy the Pride of her Wit, To find her a Wit, but the Dean a fmall Man. Which others for Mantuas wou'd think fine enuff: ; So the Wit that is lavishly thrown away here, Might furnish a fecond Rate Poet a Year: Thus Thus much for the Verfe, we proceed to the next, Where the Nymph hath entirely forsaken her Text: Her fine Panegyricks are quite out of Season, And what She describes to be Merit is Treafon : The Changes which Faction hath made in the State, Have put the Dean's Politicks quite out of Date: Now no one regards what he utters with Freedom, And shou'd he write Pamphlets, no Great Man wou'd read 'em ; And fhou'd Want or Defert ftand in need of his Aid, This Racer wou'd prove but a dull founder'd Fade. |