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July 15, 1721, at night.

I'D have you t' know, George*, Dant, Deant, and
Nim §,

That I've learned how verfe t' compofe trim.
Much better b' half th'n you, n'r you, n'r him,
And th❜t I'd rid'cule their 'nd your flam-flim,
Ay' b't then, p'rhaps, fays you, t's a m'rry whim
With 'bundance of mark'd notes i' th' rim,
So th❜t I ought n't for t' be morofe 'nd t' look grim,
Think n't your 'p'ftle put m' in a meagrim;

Though 'n rep't't'on day, I 'ppear ver' slim,
Th' laft bowl 't Helfham's did m' head t' fwim,
So th❜t I h'd man' aches n' 'v'ry fcrubb'd limb,
Caufe th' top of th' bowl I'h'd oft us'd t' skim;
And b'fides D'lan' fwears th't I'h'd fwall'w'd f'v'r'l brim-
mers, 'nd that my vis'ge's cov'r'd o'er with r'd pim-
ples m'r'o'er though m' fcull were (s' tis n't) 's
ftrong's tim-


ber, 't must have ak'd. Th' clans of th' c'lledge Sanh'drim,

Pres'nt the'r humbl' and 'fect'nate refpects; that's t'fay, D'lan', 'chlin, P. Ludl', Dic' St'wart, H'lfham, capt'n P'rr' Walinfl', 'nd Longsh'nks Timm .

*Geo. Rochfort.

+ Mr. Jackfon.

† J. Rochfort. § Dr. Swift.

Dr. James Stopford, afterwards bishop of Cloyne.



DEAR Sheridan! a gentle pair

Of Gaulftown lads (for fuch they are),

Befides a brace of grave divines,
Adore the fmoothness of thy lines;
"Smooth as our bafon's filver flood,
"Ere George had robb'd it of its mud;
Smoother than Pegafus' old fhoe,
Ere Vulcan comes to make him new.
The board on which we fet our as
Is not fo fmooth as are thy verses,
Compar'd with which (and that's enough)
A fmoothing-iron itself is rough.
Nor praise I lefs that circumcifion,
By modern poets call'd elifion,
With which, in proper ftation plac'd,
Thy polish'd lines are firmly brac'd.
Thus a wife taylor is not pinching,
But turns at every feam an inch in ;
Or else, be sure, your broad-cloth breeches
Will ne'er be smooth, nor hold their stitches.
Thy verfe, like bricks, defy the weather,
When smooth'd by rubbing them together;
Thy words so closely wedg'd and short are
Like walls, more lasting without mortar;
By leaving out the needless vowels,
You fave the charge of lime and trowels.


One letter ftill another locks,

Each groov'd and dove-tail'd like a box ;
Thy Mufe is tuckt-up and fuccinct ;
In chains thy fyllables are linkt;

Thy words together ty'd in fmall hanks,
Clofe as the Macedonian phalanx;

Or like the umbo of the Romans,

Which fierceft foes could break by no means.

The critick to his grief will find,

How firmly these indentures bind.
So, in the kindred painter's art,
The shortening is the nicest part.
Philologers of future ages,
How will they pore upon thy pages!
Nor will they dare to break the joints,
But help thee to be read with points :
Or elfe, to fhew their learned labour, you
May backward be perus'd like Hebrew,
Where they need not lofe a bit
Or of thy harmony or wit.

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 must allow your numbers more,
Where twenty lines exceed fourscore;
Nor can we think your measure short,
Where less than forty fill a quart,
With Alexandrian in the close,

Long, long, long, long, like Dan's long nofe.





Gaulftown, Aug. 2d, 1721.

EAR Tom, this verfe, which however the beginning may appear, yet in the end's good metre, Is fent to defire that, when your August vacation comes, your friends you'd meet here.

For why should you ftay in that filthy hole, I mean the city fo fmoaky,

When you have not one friend left in town, or at leafe not one that 's witty, to joke w'ye?

For, as for honeft John*, though I am not fure on 't, yet I'll be bang'd, left be


gone down to the county of Wexford with that great peer the lord Anglefey.

Oh! but I forgot; perhaps, by this time, you may have

one come to town, but I don't know whether he be friend or foe, Delany :

But, however, if he be come, bring him down, and you fhall go back in a fortnight, for I know there's no delaying ye.

Oh! I forgot too; I believe there may be one more, I

mean that great fat joker, friend Helsham, be That wrote the prologue †, and if you stay with him, depend on 't, in the end, he'll fham ye.

* Supposed to mean Dr. Walmsley.


+ One spoken by young Putland, in 1720, before Hippolytus; in which Dr. Sheridan (who had written

a pro

Bring down Long Shanks Jim too; but, now I think

on 't, he's not yet come from Courtown, I fancy; For I heard, a month ago, that he was down there a-courting y Nancy.

However, bring down yourself, and you bring down all; for, to fay it we may venture,

In thee Delany's fpleen, John's mirth, Helfham's jokes, and the foft foul of amorous Jemmy, center.


I had forgot to defire you to bring down what I fay you have, and you'll believe me as fure as a gun, and own it;

I mean, what no other mortal in the univerfe can boast of, your own spirit of pun, and own wit.

And now I hope you 'll excufe this rhyming, which I muft fay is (though written fomewhat at large) trim and clean;

And fo I conclude, with humble refpects as ufual, Your moft dutiful and obedient


a prologue for the cccafion) was most unexpectedly and egregiously laughed at. Both the prologues are printed in the "Supplement to Swift's Works."


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