« ПретходнаНастави »
And, now that I think on't, as I am a sinner?
Left alone to reflect, having emptied my shelf,
When come to the place where we all were to dine, (A chair-lumbered closet just twelve feet by nine :) My friend bade we welcome, but struck me quite dumb,
[come ; With tidings that Johnson and Burke would not " For I knew it,” he cried, “ both eternally fail, The one with his speeches, and t'other with Thrale; But no matter, I'll warrant we'll make up the party, With two full as clever, and ten times as hearty. The one is a Scotchman, the other a Jew, They're both of them merry, and authors like you; The one writes the Snarler, the other the Scourge ; Some thinks he writes Cinna-he owns to Panurge." While thus he described them by trade and by name, They entered, and dinner was served as they came.
* See the letters that passed between his royal highness Henry, duke of Cumberland, and lady Grosvenor-12mo. 1769.
At the top a fried liver and bacon were seen, At the bottom was tripe, in a swinging tureen ; [hot; At the sides there was spinnage and pudding made In the middle a place where the pasty-was not. Now, my lord, as for tripe it's my utter aversion, And your bacon I hate like a Turk or a Persian. So there I sat stuck, like a horse in a pound, While the bacon and liver went merrily round : But what vexed me most was that d- -ed Scottish rogue,
[brogue; With his long-winded speeches, his smiles and his And,“ madam,” quoth he,
this bit be my poiA prettier dinner I never set eyes on:
[son, Pray a slice of your liver, though may I be curst, But I've eat of your tripe, till I'm ready to burst.” «The tripe," quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek, “I could dine on this tripe seven days in a week : I like these here dinners so pretty and small; But your friend there, the doctor, eats nothing at all." "0-ho!"
quoth my friend, whe'll come on in a trice, He's keeping a corner for something that's nice: There's a pasty," a pasty !" repeated the jew; "I dont care if I keep a corner for't too." 6. What the de'il, mon, a pasty !” re-echoed the Scot, « Though splitting, I'll still keep a corner for that.” "We'll all keep a corner,” the lady cried out; “ We'll all keep a corner," was echoed about. While thus we resolved, and the pasty delayed, With looks that quite petrified, entered the maid;
A visage so sad, and so pale with affright,
To Iris, in Bow-strcet, Covent Garden.
Say, cruel Iris, pretty rake,
Dear mercenary beauty, What annual offering shall I make
Expressive of my duty ?
My heart a victim to thine eyes,
Should I at once deliver,
The gift, who slights the giver?
A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy,
My rivals give--and let 'em. If gems, or gold impart a joy,
I'll give them-when I get 'em.
I'll give but not the full-blown rose,
Or rose-bud more in fashion ; Such short-lived offerings but disclose
A transitory passion :
I'll give thee something yet unpaid,
Not less sincere than civil; I'll give thee--ah! too charming maid,
I'll give thee-to the devil.
A NEW SIMILE,
IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT.
Long had I sought in vain to find
and nature's spite ; Till reading, I forget what day on, A chapter out of Tooke's Phantheon, I think I met with something there, To suit my purpose to a hair : But let us not proceed too furious ; First please to turn to god Mercurius ;
You'll find him pictured at full length
Imprimis, pray observe his hat;
In the next place, his feet peruse, Wings grow again from both his shoes ; Designed, no doubt, their part to bear, And waft his godship through the air ; And here my simile unites; For in a modern poet's flights, I'm sure it may be justly said, His feet are useful as his head.
Lastly, vouchsafe t'observe his hand, Filled with a snake encircled wand; By classic authors, termed Caduceus, And highly famed for several uses. To wit-most wondrously endued ; No poppy-water half so good ; For let folks only get a touch, Its soporific virtue's such, Though ne'er so much awake before, That quickly they begin to snore. Add too, what certain writers tell, With this he drives men's souls to hell.