But be 't as 'twill, this

you
must

grant, That you 're a dawb, whilft I but paint ; Then which of us two is the quaint

er coxcomb?: I value not your jokes of noosc, Your gibes, and all your foul abusc, More than the dire beneath my shoes, ·

nor-fear it. Yet one thing vexes mo, I

own, Thou sorry fcare-crow of. skin and bone ; To be call'd lean by a skeleton,

who'd bear it? 'Tis true indeed, to curry friends, You seein to praise, to make amends, And yet, before your

stanza ends,

you flout me 'Bout latent charms beneath my cloaths ; For every one that knows me knows That I have nothing like.my nose

about me. pass now where

you

Aleer and laugh, 'Cause I call Dan my better half !" Oh there you think you have me safe!

But hold, Sir. It not a penny often found 'To be much greater than a pound ? By your good leave, my moft profound

and bold Sir,

Dan's

Dan 's noble mettle, Sherry base ;

So Dan's the better, though the lesa,
'An ounce of gold 's worth ten of brass,

dull pechent !
As to your spelling, let me see,
If SHE makes fber, and RI makes ry,
Good spelling-master! your crany

has lead on't.

ANOTHER REJƠINDER, BY THE DEAN, IN JACKSON'S NAME. ' THREE days for answer I have waited,

I thought an ace you 'd ne'er have bated,
And art thou forc'd ro yield, ill-fated

poctaster
Hencefoith acknowledge, that a nose
Of thy dimension's fit for prose,
But every one that knows Dan, knows

thy mafter. Blush for ill-spelling, for ill-lines,

And Aly with hurry to ramines ;
Thy fame, thy genius now declines,

proud boaster, I hear with some concern you roar,

And flying think to quit the score 1-By clapping billets on your door

and pofts, Sir.

Thy

R 3

Thy ruin, Tom, I never meant,
I'm griev'd to hear

your banishment, But pleas’d to find you do relent

and cry on. I mauld you, when you look'd so bluff, But now I'll secret keep your stuff; For know, prostration is enough

to th' lion.

SHERIDAN’S SUBMISSIO N.

BY THE DE A N.
“Cedo jam, miseræ cognofcens præmia rixæ,
“ Si risca est, ubi tu pulsas ego vapulo tantum."

POOR Sherry, inglorious,
To Dan the victorious,
Presents, as 'tis fitting,

Petition and greeting.
TO you victorious and brave,
Your now.fubdued and fuppliant slave

Most humbly fues for pardon ;
Who when I fought still cut me down,
And when I vanish'd fled the town,

Pursued and laid me hard on.
Now lowly crouch'd I cry peccavi,
And prostrate fupplicate pour ma vie,

Your mercy I rely on;
For you, my conqueror and my

king,
In pardoning, as in punishing,
Will thew yourself a lion.

Alas!

Alas! Sir, I had no design,
But was unwarily drawn in ;

For spite I ne’er had any;
'Twas the damn’d squire with the hard name;
The de'el too that ow'd me a shame,

The devil and Delany;
They tempted me t' attack your highness,
And then, with wonted wile and Nyness,

They left me in the lurch:
Unhappy wretch ! for now, I ween,
I've nothing left to vent my spleen

But ferula and birch :
And they, alas ! yield small relief,
Seem rather to renew my grief,

My wounds bleed all anew :
For every

stroke
goes

heart,
And at each lath I feel the smart

Of lash laid on by you.

to my

To the Rev. DANIEL JACKSON; To be humbly presented by Mr: SHERIDAN in

Person, with Respect, Care, and Speedo.

Dear DAN,

HER
ERE I return my trust, nor ask,
One
penny

for remittance ;
If I have well perform’d my talk,
Pray send me an acquittance.

R 4

Tos Too long I bore this weighty pack,

As Hercules the sky;
Now take him you, Dan Atlas, back,

Let me be ftander-by.
Not all the witty things you speak

In compass of a day,
Noc half the puns you make a week,

Should bribe his longer stay.
With me you left him out at nuríc,

Yet are you not my debror ; For, as he hardly can be worse,

I ne'er could make him better, : He rhymes and puns, and puns and rhymes

Just as he did before;
And, when he's lash'd a hundred times,

He shymes and puns the more.
When rods are laid on sehool-boys-bums,

The more they frisk and skip :
The school-boy's top but louder hums,

The more they use the whip.
Thus, a lean beast bencath a load

(Abcast of Irish breed) Will, in a tedious, dirty road,

Outgo the prancing steed.
You knock him down and down in vain,

And lay him fiat before ye,
For, soon as he gets up again,

He'll-ftrut, and cry, Vietcrial