You honour me much'- The honour is mine'''Twas a sad rainy night'-' But the morning is fine'[service''Pray how does my Lady?'-' My wife's at your 'I think I have seen her picture, by Jarvis''Good morrow, good Captain!'-'I'll wait on you down'

'You sha'n't stir a foot'-'You'll think me a

clown'

[farther❜For all the world, Captain, not half an inch 'You must be obey'd; your servant, Sir Arthur; My humble respects to my Lady unknown''I hope you will use my house as your own.'-" "Go bring me my smock, and leave off your

prate;

Thou hast certainly gotten a cup in thy pate." “Pray, Madam, be quiet; what was it I said ? You had like to have put it quite out of my head.

"Next day to be sure the Captain will come At the head of his troop, with trmmpet and drum.

Now, Madam, observe how he marches in state;
The man with the kettle-drum enters the gate :
Dub, dub, adub, dub. The trumpeters follow;
Tantara, tantara; while all the boys halloo.
See now comes the Captain, all daub'd with gold
lace:

O la! the sweet gentleman! look in his face;
And see how he rides like a lord of the land,
With the fine flaming sword that he holds in his
hand;

And his horse, the dear creter! it prances and

rears,

With ribands in knots at its tail and its ears.

At last comes the troop, by the word of command Drawn up in our court; when the Captain cries, 'Stand.'

Your Ladyship lifts up the sash to be seen, (For sure I had dizen'd you out like a queen) The Captain, to show he is proud of the favour, Looks up to your window, and cocks up his beaver;

(His beaver is cock'd; pray, Madam, mark that, For a Captain of horse never takes off his hat, Because he has never a hand that is idle,

For the right holds the sword, and the left holds the bridle)

Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air,
As a compliment due to a lady so fair:

(How I tremble to think of the blood it hath spilt !)

[hilt. Then he lowers down the point, and kisses the Your Ladyship smiles, and thus you begin; 'Pray, Captain, be pleas'd to alight and walk in.' The Captain salutes you with congee profound, And your Ladyship curtsies half-way to the ground.

'Kit, run to your master, and bid him come to us; I'm sure he'll be proud of the honour you do us: And, Captain, you'll do us the favour to stay, And take a short dinner here with us to-day : You're heartily welcome: but as for good cheer, You come in the very worst time of the year: If I had expected so worthy a guest'

'Lord! Madam! your Ladyship sure is in jest ; You banter me, Madam: the kingdom must grant'

'You officers, captain, are so complaisant.'-"

"Hist, hussy! I think I hear somebody coming""No, Madam; 'tis only Sir Arthur a-humming : To shorten my tale, (for I hate a long story) The Captain at dinner appears in his glory; The Dean and the Doctor have humbled their pride,

For the Captain's entreated to sit by your side; And, because he's their betters, you carve for him first;

The parsons for envy are ready to burst:
The servants, amaz'd, are scarce ever able
To keep off their eyes as they wait at the table;
And Molly and I have thrust in our nose

To peep at the Captain in all his fine clothes.
Dear Madam! be sure he's a fine spoken man
Do but hear on the clergy how glib his tongue

ran:

'And, Madam, (says he,) if such dinners you give,
You'll never want parsons as long as you live;
I ne'er knew a parson without a good nose,
But the devil's as welcome wherever he goes.
G-d-me, they bid us reform and repent,
But, z-s, by their looks they never keep Lent.
Mister Curate, for all your grave looks, I'm
afraid

You cast a sheep's eye on her Ladyship's maid;
I wish she would lend you her pretty white hand
In mending your cassock and smoothing your
band:
[ninny,
(For the Dean was so shabby, and look'd like a
That the Captain suppos'd he was curate to

Jenny)

Doctor Jenny, a clergyman in the neighbourhood.

Whenever you see a cassock and gown,
A nundred to one but it covers a clown.
Observe how a parson comes into a room,
G-d-me, he hobbles as bad as my groom.
A scholard, when just from his college broke
loose,

Can hardly tell how to cry Bo! to a goose.
Your Noveds, and Bluturks, and Omurs,10 and
stuff,

By G they don't signify this pinch of snuff. To give a young gentleman right education, The army's the only good school in the nation. My schoolmaster call'd me a dunce and a fool, But at cuffs I was always the cock of the school. I never could take to my book for the blood o'me, And the puppy confess'd he expected no good

o'me.

He caught me one morning coquetting his wife, But he maul'd me, I ne'er was so manl'd in my

life;

So I took to the road, and what's very odd, The first man I robb'd was a parson, by G-. Now, Madam, you'll think it a strange thing to say, [day.' But the sight of a book makes me sick to this "Never since I was born did I hear so much [split: And, Madam, I laugh'd till I thought I should So then you look'd scornful, and snift at the Dean, As who should say, now, am I Skinny and Lean ?11

wit,

10 Ovids, Plutarchs, Homers. See Essay on Modern Education.

11 Nicknames for my Lady.

But he durst not so much as once open his lips, And the Doctor was plaguily down in the hips." Thus merciless Hannah ran on in her talk, Till she heard the Dean call, Will your Lady. ship walk!'

Her Ladyship answers, 'I'm just coming down :' Then turning to Hannah, and forcing a frown, Although it was plain in her heart she was glad, Cried, "hussy! why, sure the wench is gone mad: How could these chimeras get into your brains?— Come hither, and take this old gown for your pains.

But the Dean, if this secret should come to his ears,

Will never have done with his gibes and his jeers: For your life, not a word of the matter, I

charge ye;

Give me but a Barrack, a fig for the clergy."

DIRECTIONS

FOR MAKING A BIRTH-DAY SONG.

1729.

To form a just and finish'd piece,
Take twenty gods of Rome or Greece,
Whose godships are in chief request,
And fit your present subject best;
And should it be your hero's case
To have both male and female race,
Your business must be to provide
A score of goddesses beside.

Some call their monarchs Sons of Saturn,
For which they bring a modern pattern,