Lady B----- B---- finding in the Author's Room fome Verfes unfinifhed, underwrit a Stanza of her own, with Raillery upon him, which gave Occafion to this Ballad. To the Tune of, The Cutpurfe. I. NCE on a Time, as old Stories rehearse, ONG A Friar would needs fhew his Talent in Latin; But was forely put to't in the midst of a Verfe, Because he could find no Word to come pat in; Then at the Place He left a void Space, And fo went to Bed in a desperate Cafe, When behold the next Morning, a wonderful Riddle, He found it was ftrangely fill'd up in the Middle. Chorus. Let cenfuring Criticks, then, think what they lift on't, Who would not write Verfes with fuch an Afiftant? II. THIS II. THIS put me the Friar into an Amazement, For he wifely confider'd it must be a Sprite, That came thro' the Key-Hole, or in at the Cazement, And it needs must be one that could both Read and Write: Yet he did not know If it were Friend or Foe, Or whether it came from above or below, Hewe'er it was civil, in Angel or Elf, For he ne'er could have fill'd it fo well of himself. Cho. Let cenfuring, &c. III. EVEN fo Master Doctor had puzzled his Brains He had mix'd little Wit with a great deal of Pains, Pay Thanks for the Gift, FOR you freely must own you were at a dead Lift: And tho' fome malicious young Spirit did do't, You may know by the Hand it had no Cloven Foot. Cho. Let cenfuring, &c. 1 V's [75] V's HOUSE. Built from the Ruins of Whitehall that was burnt. N Times of Old, when Time was Young, IN And Poets their own Verfes fung, A Verfe could draw a Stone or Beam, Might raise a Houfe about two Stories ; BUT to their own, or Landlord's Coft, On On Earth the God of Wealth was made (for 'tis fit the Reader know it,) Is both a Herald and a Poet; And as a Poet he has Skill Great Jove! he cry'd, the Art restore, No longer fhall forfaken Thames A Pile fhall from its Ashes rife, JOVE fmil'd, and, like a gentle God, Confenting with the ufual Nod, Told he knew his Talent best, So Men of old, to gain Renown, did Down from Olympus' Top he flides, Ay, thought the God, are thefe your Tricks? Now move, and now in Order stand. THE ! |