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No impotence of wit had ta’en. Poffesfion of my muse-struck brain. Or had my birth, with fortune fit, Varnish'd the dunce, or made the wit; I had not held a shameful place, Hor letters paid me with disgrace.

-O! for a pittance of my own, That I might live unsought, unknown ! Retir'd from all this pedant ftrife, Far from the cares of burt’ling life ; Far from the wits, the fools, the great, And all the little world I hate,

What Suitors then will kneel before me. Lords, Earls, and Vfcounts shall adore me. “ When in my gilded coach I ride, « My Lady at his Lordship's fide, “ How will I laugh at all I meet " Claet’ring in pattens down the street ! " And LOBBIN then I'll mind no more, 6 Howe'er I lov'd him heretofore; “ Or, if he talks of plighted truth, " I will not hear the fimple youth,

But rise indignant from my seat,
" And spurn the lubber from my feet.”

Action, alas ! the speaker's grace,
Ne'er came in more improper place,
For in the toffing forth her shoe,
What fancied bliss the maid o'erthrew !
While down at once, with hideous fall,
Came lovers, wealth, and milk, and all.

Thus fancy ever loves to roam,
To bring the gay materials home ;
Imagination forms the dream,
And actident Jeftroys the scheme.


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THE REV. MR. 6607.


MONGST you bipeds, reputation


HOE'ER for pleasure plans a scheme,

Will find it vanith like a dream,
Affording nothing found or real,
Where happiness is all ideal ;
In grief, in joy, or either ftate,
Fancy will always antedate,
And when the thoughts on evil pore,
Anticipation makes it more.
Thus while the mind the future sees,
It cancels all its present ease.

Is Pleasure's scheme the point in view ;
How eagerly we all pursue !

Well Tuesday is th' appointed day i
How Nowly wears the time away!
How dull che interval between,
How darken'd o'er with clouds of spleen,
Did not the mind unlock her treasure,
And fancy feed on promis'd pleasure.

DELIA surveys, with curious eyes,
The clouds collected in the skies ;
Wilhes no storm may rend the air,
And Tuesday may be dry and fair ;
And I look round, my boys, and pray,
That Tuesday may be holiday.
Things duely settled--what remains ?
Lo! Tuesday comes—alas ! it rains;
And all our visionary schemes
Have died away, like golden dreams.

Once on a time, a rustic dame,
(No matter for the lady's name)
Wrapt up in deep imagination,
Indulg'd her pleafing contemplation ;
While on a bench she took her seat,
And plac'd the milk-pail at her feet,
Oft in her hand the chink'd the pence,
The profits which arose from thence ;
While fond ideas fill'd her brain,
Of layings up, and monffrous gain,
Till every penny which she told,
Creative fancy turn'd to gold ;
And reasoning thus from computation,
She spoke aloud her meditation,

« Please heav'n but to preserve my health, “ No doubt I thall have itore of wealth ; “ It must of consequence ensue “ I thall have store of lovers too, of Oh ! how I'll break their stubborn hearts “ Wich all the pride of female arts.

And men increase in fame and worth,
Not from their merits, but their Birth.
Thus he is born to live obscure,
Who has the sin of being poor ;
While wealthy dullness lolls at ease,
And is as witty as you please.

- What did his Lordship say?--0! fine !
“ The very- Thing ! Bravo! Divine !"
And then 'tis buzz'd from Route to Route,
While ladies whisper it about,
Well, I proteft, a charming hit!
“ His Lordship has a deal of wit :
“ How elegant that double sense !
« Perdigious! vaftly fine ! immense !"
When all my lord has said or done,
Was but the letting off a pun.

Mark the fat Cit, whose good round sum, Amounts at least to half a Plumb; Whose chariot whirls him


and down Some three or four miles out of town; For thither suber folks repair, To take the Duft which they call air, Dull folly (not the wanton wild Imagination's younger child) Has taken lodgings in his face, As finding that a vacant place, And peeping from his windows, tells To all beholders, where the dwells. Yet once a week, this purse-proud cit] Shall ape the sallies of a wit, And after ev'ry Sunday's dinner, To priestly faint, or city lioner, Shall tell the story o'er and o'er, H'as told a thousand times before ;


Like gameiters, who, with eager zeal,
Talk the game o'er between the deal.

Mark ! how the fools and knaves admire
And chuckle with their Sunday 'squire:
While he looks pleas'd at ev'ry guest,
And laughs much louder than the rest ;
And cackling with incessant grin,
Triples the Double of his chin,

Birth, rank, and wealth, have wond'rous skill ;
Make Wits and Statesmen when they will ;
While genius holds no estimation,
From luckless want of Situation ;
And, if through clouded scenes of life,
He takes dame poverty to wife,
Howe'er he work and teize his brain,
His pound of wit scarce weighs a grain;
While with his Lordship it aboundsy
And one light grain (wells out to pounds,

Receive, good fir, with aspect kind,
This wanton gallop of th: mind ;
But, lince all chings increase in worth,
Proportion'd to their rank and birth;
Leit you should think the letter bafi,
While I supply the poet's place,
I'll tell you whence and what I am,
Mv Breed, my Blood, my Sire, my Dam,

My Sire was Pindar's Eagle, son
Of Pegasus of HELICON ;
My Dans, the Hippograph, which whirl'd
Aftolpho to the lunar world.
Both high-bred things of merrled blood,
The best in all APOLLo's stud.

Now Critics here would bid me speak
The old horse language, that is, Greek;
For Homer made us talk, you know,
Almost three thousand years ago;
And men of Taste and Judgment FINI,
Allow the passage is divine.
They were fine mettled things indeed,
And of peculiar strength and breed ;
What leaps they took, how far and wide !

- They'd take a country at a Aride.
*How great each leap, LONGINUS knew,
Who from dimensions ta'en of two,
Affirms, with equal ardour whirld,
A third, good lord ! would clear the world.

But till some learned wight shall thew
If Accents MUST be us'd, or no,
A doubt, which puzzles all the wise
Of giant and of pigmy lize,
Who waste their time, and fancies vex
With asper, leris, circumflex,
And talk of mark and punctuati un,
As 'twere a matter of salvation ;
For when your pigmies take the

They fancy they grow up to Men,
And think they keep the world in awe
By brandishing a very Straw;
Till they have clear'd this weighty doubta
Which they'll be centuries about,
As a plain nag, in homely phrase,
I'll use the language of our days ;
And, for this first and only time,
Just make a trat in eafy rhime.

Nor let it shock your thought or right,
That thus a quadruped should waite ;
Read but the papers, and you'll sec
More prodigies of wit than me ;

Grorun men and Sparrows taught to dance,
By monsieur Pallerat from France ;
The learned dog, the learned mare,
The learned bird, the learned hare ;
And all are fallionable 200,
And play at cards as well as you.

Of paper, pen, and ink possessid,
With faculties of writing bleit,
Why should not I then, Hownnyhwn bred
(A word that must be seen, not faid)
Rid you of all that anxious care,
Which goud folk feel for good and fair,
And which your looks betray'd indeed,
To more discerning eyes of steed;

When in the thape of useful hack,
I bore a poet on my back ?

Know, safely rode my master's bride,
The bard before her for my guide.
Yet think not, fir, his awkward care
Ensured proiection to the fair.
Norconscious of the prize I bore,
My wayward footsteps flipt no more.
For though I fcorn the Poet's skill,
My mistress guides me where she will,

Abstract in wond'rous speculation,
Loft in laborious meditation,
As whether 'twould promote Sublime
If Silver could be pair'd in rhyme;
Or, as the word of sweeter Tune,
Month might be clink'd instead of moon :
No wonder poets hardly know
Or what they do, or where they go.
Whether they ride or walk the street,
Their heads are always on their feet;
They now and then may get astride
Th’ideal Pegasus, and ride
Prodigious journeys--sound a room,
As boys ride cock-horse on a broom.

Whether Acroftics teize the brain,
Which goes a hunting words in vain,
(For words most capitally sin,
Unless their letters right begin.)
Since how to man or woman's name,
Could you or I Acruftic frame.
Or make the staring letters join,
To form the word that tells us thine,

Unless we'ad right initials got,
S, C, O, T, and so made Scot?

Or whether Rebus, Riddle's brother
(Both which had DULLNESS for their mother)
Employ the gentle poet's care,
To celebrate some towar or fair,
Which all ad libitum he fits
For you to pick it up by bits,
Which bits together plac'd, will frame
Some city's or some lady's name ;
As when a worm is cut in twain,
It joins and is a worm again ;
When thoughts so weighty, lo intense.
Above the reach of common sense,
Diftract and twirl the mind about,
Which fain would hammer something out;
A kind discharge relieves the mind,
As folks are eas'd by breaking wind i
Whatever whims or maggots bred
Take place of renfe in poet's head,
They fix themselves without controul,
Where'er its scat is on the soul.


Then, like your heathen idols, we

What BEROALDUS gravely told ; Have eyes indeed, but cannot see.

I read it in that sound divine. We, for I take the poet's part,

And for indecency, you know And for my blood, am Bard at heart)

He had a fashionable turn, Forin reflection deep immerit,

As prim observers clearly shew The man muse-bitten and be-verft,

In t'other Parson, Doctor STIRNE. Neglectful of externals all,

Yet Pope denies it all defence, Will run his head against a wall,

And call it, bless us! Want of sense. Walk, through a river as it flows,

But e'en the decent Pope can write Nor see the bridge before his nose.

* Of bottles, corks, and maiden fighs, Are things like these equestriane fit

of charming beauties less in light, To mount the back of mettled tit?

Of the more secret precious hair, Are-but farewell, for here comes Bob,

It “ And something else of little Size, And I must serve some hackney job ;

You know where. Fetch letters, or, for recreacion,

If such Authorities prevail, Transport the bard to our Plantation.

To vihilh o'er this petty fin, Roberts joins compts with Burnam Black,

I plead a pardon for my tale, Your humble servant, Hanbury's hack.

And having hemm'd and cough'd begin.
A Genius (one of those I mean,

We read of in the Arabian nights ;
Not such as every day are seen

At Bob's or Arthur's, whilom White's;

For howsoe'er you change the name, THE NEW-RIVER HEAD. The Clubs and Meetings are the same ;

Nor those prodigious learned folks,

Your Haberdashers of ftale Jokes,
A T A L E.

Who dress them up so neat and clean
For News-paper or Magazine;

But one that could play wond'rous tricks,

Changing the very course of Nature,
Not ASMODIUs on two sticks

Or fage URGANDA could do greater.)
INSCRIBED TO J. WILKES Esq. Once on a time incog came down

From his equivocal dominions, Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis ætum.


And travellid o'er a country town

To try folks' tempers and opinions.

When to accomplish his intent
EAR WILKIS, whose lively social Wit

(For had the cobler known the king.

Lord ! it would quite have spoild the thing) Of gloomy Folks, who love to fit

In strange disguise he fily went As Doctors should at Consultation,

And stump'd along the high-way track, Permit me, in familiar Strain

With greasy knapsack at his back ; To steal you from the idle hour

And now the night was pitchy dark, Of combating the NORTHERN THANE,

Without one star's indulgent spark, And all his pupper tools of Pow'r.

Whether he wanted sleep or not, Shame to the Wretch, if sense of shame

Is of no consequence to tell ; Can ever touch the miscreant's breast,

A bed and lodging must be got, Who dead to virtue as to fame,

For genuises live always well. (A Monster whom the Gods detest)

At the belt house in all the town, Turns traitor to himself, to court,

(It was th' wtorney's you may swear) Or Minister or Monarch's smile ;

He knock'd as he'd have beat it down, And dares, in infolence of sport,

Knock as you would, no entrance there. Invade the CHARTER of our isle.

But from the window cried the dame, But why should I, who only strive

Go, firrah go, from whence you came. By telling of an easy tale,

Here, Nell, John, Thomas, see who knocks, To keep attention half alive

Fellow, I'll put you in the Itucks. 'Gainit BODGOLAM and FLIMNAP rail ? For whether ENGLAND be the name,

Be gentle ma'am, the Genius cried :

Have mercy on the wand'ring poor,
(Name which w're taught no more to prize) Who knows not where his head to hide,
Or BRITAIN, it is all the same,

And asks a pittance at your door.
The Lilliputian Statesmen risc

A mug of beer, a cruft of bread
To malice of gigantic fize.

Have pity on the houseless head;
Let them enjoy their warmth a while,

Your husband keeps a lordly tabley
Truth shall regard them with a smile.

I ask but for the offal crumbs,
While you, like GULLIVER, in sport
Piss out the fire and save the Court.

* Rape of the Lock. But to return_The tale is old ;

+ Pope's Letters: Indecent, truly none of mine

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And for a lodging—barn or stable
Will shroud me till the morning comes.

"I was all in vain ; the rang the bell,
The servants trembi'd at the knell;
Down Hew the maids to tell the men,
To drive the vagrant back again.
He trudg'd away in angry mind,
And thought but cheaply of mankind,

Till throught a calement's dingy pane,
A rush light's melancholy ray,

Bad him e'en try his luck again ;
Perhaps beneath a houfe of clay
À wand'ring paffenger might find,
A better friend to human kind,
And far more hospitable fare,
Though not lo coftly, nice, or rare,
As mokes upon the silver plate
of the luxurious pamper’d great.

So to this cot of homely thatch,
In the same plight the genius came :

Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch; What want ye fir?

God save you, dame. And fo be told the piteous tale,

Which you have heard him tell before i
Your patience and my own would fail

Were I to tell it o'er and o'er.
Suffice it, that my goody's care
Brought forth her best, though simple fare,

And from the corner-cupboard's board,
Her stranger guest the more to please,

Befpread her hospitable board With what she had 'twas bread and cheefe. "T'is honest though but homely cheer;

Much good may't do ye, eat your fill. Would I cou'd treat you with strong beer,

But for the action take the will, You see my cot is clean though small,

Pray heav'n encrease my slender Rock!
You're welcome, friend, you see my all;

And for your bed, Sir there's a flock.
No matter what was after said,
He eat and drank and went to bed.
And now the cock his mattins sung,

(Howe'er fuch singing's light esteemid, Tis precious in the Muses' tongue

When fung, rhimes better than he scream'd ;). The dame and pedlar both arose,

At early dawn of rising day,
She for her work of folding clothes,

And He to travel on his way ;
But much he thought himself

to blame.
If, as in duty furely bound,
He did not thank the careful dame

For the reception he had found,
Hoftels, quoth He, before I go,
I thank you for your hearty Fare;

Would it were in my pow'r to pay

My gratitude a better way ;
But money now runs very low,

And I have not a doit to spare ;
But if you'll take this piece of Stuff

-No, quoth the dame, I'm as poor as you,
Your kindel wishes are enough,

You're welcome, friend, farewell-Adieu. But first reply'd the wand'ring guest,

For bed and board and homely dishe May all things turn out for the best,

So take my blessing and my wish,

May what you first begin to do.

Create such profit and delight, That you may do it all day through,

Nor finish till the depth of night.

Thank you, said she, and shut the door, Turn'd to her work, and thought no more, And now the napkin which was spread To treat her guest with good prown bread, She folded up with nicest care ; When lo ! another napkin there! And every folding did beget Another and another yet. She folds a shift-by strange encrcafe, The remnant swells into a piece. Her Caps, hep Laces, all the fame,

Till such a quantity of Linen,

From such a very fmall beginning, Flow'd in at once upon the Dame, Who wond'ted how the deuce it came,

That with the drap'ry she had got

Within her little shabby cot,
She might for all the town provide,
And break both York-Street and Cheaplido.
It happen'd that th' attorney's wife,

Who to be sure, took much upon her,
As being one in higher Life,

Who did the Parish mighty honour, Sent for the Dame, who poor and willing,

Would take a job of charing work,

And sweat and toil like any Turk, To carn a fixpence or a shilling.

She could not come, not the indeed! She thank'd her much but had no need. Good news will Ay as well as bad,

So out this wond'rous story came,

About the Pedlar and the Dame, Which

made th’ Attorney's wife so mad, That she refolv'd at any rate, Spite of her pride and Lady airs,

To get the Pedlar tete-a-tetc, And make up all the past affairs :

And though she withd him at the devil When he came there the night before,

Determin'd to be monstrous civil, And drop her curtsie at the door.

Now all was racket, noise and pother,
Nell running one way, John another,
And Tom was on the coach-horse sent,
To learn which way the Pedlar went.

Thomas return’d;--the Pedlar brought
-What could my dainty Madam say,

For not behaving as she ought,
And driving honest folks away?
Upon my word, it shocks me much,

But there's such thieving here of lato Not that I dream'd that you were such,

When you came knocking at my gate,
I must confess myself to blame,

And I'm afraid you lately met
Sad treatment with that homely dame,

Who lives on what her hands can get,
Walk in with me at leatt to-night,
And let us set all matters right:
I know my duty, and indeed
Would help a friend in time of need.

Take such refreshment as you find,
I'm sure I mean it for the best,

And give it with a willing mind,
To such a grave and sober guest.
So in they came, and for his picking,

Behold the table covers spread,

Instead of Goody's cheese and bread,
With tarts, and fish, and flesh, and chicken.

And to appear in greater itate,
The knives and forks with silver handles,

The candlesticks of bright (French) plate
To hold her beft mould (tallow) candles.

Were all brought forth to be display'd,

In female housewifry parade,
And more the Pedlar to regale,

And make the wond'rous man her friend,
Decanters foam'd of mantling ale,

And port and claret without end;
They hobb'd and nobb'd, and (mild and laugh’d,
Touch'd glasses, nam'd their toasts, and quaft'd;

Talk'd over every friend and foe,
Till eating, drinking, talking paft,
The kind house-clock ftruck twelve at last,

When wilhing Madam bon repos,
The pedlar pleaded weary head,
Made his low bow, and want to bed.

Wishing him then at perfect ease, = A good soft bed, a good sound sleep,

Now, gentle reader, if you please,
We'll at the lady take a peep.

She could not rest, but turn'd and toss'd
While fancy whisper'd in her brain,

That what her indiscretion last,
'Her art and cunning might regain.

Such Linen to so poor a dame !
For such coarse fare! perplex'd her head ;

Why might not the expect the fame,
So courteous, civil, and well-bred ?
And now she reckon'd up her store

Of Cambricks, Hollands, Mullins, Lawns,

Free gifts, and Purchases, and Pawns,
Resolv*d to multiply them more,

Till she had got a Stock of Linen.

Fit for a Dowager to fin in.
The morning came, when up the gnt;

Most ceremoniously inclin'd
To wind up her sagacious plot,

With all that civil Atuff we find
'Mongst those who talk a wond'rous deal
Of what they neither mean nor feel.

How shall I, Ma'm, reply'd the Guest,
Make you a suitable return,
For your actention and concern,

And such civilities expreft
To one, who must be fill in debt
For all the kindness he has met?

For this vour eutertainment's fake,
If ought of good my with can do,

May what you first shall undertake,
Last without ceasing all day through.

Madam, who kindly understood
His with effectually good,
Strait dropp'd a curthe wond'rous low,
Por much she wanted him to go,
That she might look up all her store,
And turn it into thousands more.
Now all the maids were sent to look
In every cranny, hole and nook,
For every rag which they could find
of any fize, or any kind.

Draw'rs, Boxes, Closets, Chests and Cares
Were unlock'd at once to get
Her Point, her Gawz, her Pruß,
With fifty names of fifty kinds,
Which suit variety of minds.

How shall I now my tale pursue,
So paffing itrange, so paffing true ?
When every bit from every hoard,
Was brought and laid upon the board,

Leít some more urgent obligation Might interrupt her pleasing toil,

And marring half her application.
The promir'd hopes of profit spoil,

Before the folds a single rag,
Or takes a cap from board or bag,
That nothing might her work prevent,

(For she was now resolv'd to labout, With earnest hope and full intent

To get the better of her neighbour)
Into the garden she would go

To do that necessary thing,
Which must by all be done, you know,
By rich and poor, and high and low,

By Male and Female, Queen and King;
She little dream'd a common action,

Practis'd as duly as her pray’rs,
Should prove so tedious a transaction

Or coft her such a sea of cares.
In short the streams so plenteous flow'd,

That in the dry and dusty weather,
She might have water'd all the road

For ten or twenty miles together.
What could the do? as it began,
Th’involuntary torrent ran.

Instead of folding Cap or Mob,
So dreadful was this distillation.
That from a simple watering job,
She fear'd a general Inundation,

While for her Indiscretion's crime,
And coveting too great a store,

She made a river at a time,
Which sure was never done before.

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E SI could rifle grove and bow'r

And strip the beds of every flow'r,
And deck them in their faireft hue,
Merely to be out blush'd by you.
The lilly, pale, by my direction,
Should fight the rose for your complexion :
Or I could make up sweetest posies,
Fit fragrance for the ladies' noses,
Which drooping, on your broast reclining,
Should all be withering, dying, pining,

Which every songster can display,
I've more authorities than GAY ;
Nay, I could teach the globe its duty
To pay all homage to your beauty,
And, wit's creative pow'r to show,
The very fire should mix with (now ;
Your eyes, that brandish burning darts
To scorch and finge our tinder hearts,

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