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With salt box, pepper box, and kettle,
Joyous to breakfast they sat round, With all the culinary metal.-.
Nor were asham'd to eat a pound. Be war'd, ye fair, by Susan's crosses,
These were the manners, these the ways, Keep chaste, and guard yourselves from losses ; In good queen Bess's golden days; For if young girls delight in kissing,
Each damsel ow'd her bloom and glee,
To wholesome elbow-grease, and me,
Thus where the fates send you, they send TAE TEA POT AND SCRUBBING
Flagitious times, which ne'er will mend,
'Till some philosopher can find,
A scrubbing-brush to scour the mind.”
My lord, I humbly crave a day.-High in an elegant beaufet,
'Tis difficult, and in my mind, This pompous utensil was set,
Like substance, cannot be defin'd. And pear it, on a marble slab,
It deals in numerous externals, Porsaken by some careless drab,
And is a legion of infernals ; A veteran scrubbing-brush was plac'd,
Sometimes in riot and in play, And the rich furniture disgrac'd.
Tis breaking of the Sabbath day: The tea-pot soon began to flout,
When 'tis consider'd as a passion, And thus its venom spouted ont :
I deem it lust and fornication. " Who from the scullery or yard,
We pay our debts in honour's cause, Brought in this low, this vile blackguard,
Lost in the breaking of the laws : And laid in insolent position,
'Tis for some selfish impious end, Among us people of condition ?
To murder the sincerest friend ;
But wou'd you alter all the clan,
Why take a pistol from the shelf,
And fight a duel with yourself.Turn-brother coffee-pot, your spout,
'Twas on a time, the Lord knows when, Otserse the nasty stinking lout,
In Ely, or in Lincoln fen, Who seems to scorn my indignation,
A frog and mouse had long disputes, Nor pays due homage to my fashion;
Held in the language of the brutes, Take, silver sugar dish, a view,
Who of a certain pool and pasture, And, cousin cream pot, pray do you.”
Shou'd be the sovereign and master. ** Pox on you all,” replies old Scrub,
Sir,” says the frog, and damn'd his blood, “Of coxcombs ye confederate club,
“ I hold that my pretension's good; Poll of impertinence, and prate,
Nor can a brute of reason doubt it, Ye hate all things that are sedate.
For all that you can squeak about it.” None but such ignorant infernals,
The mouse, averse to be o'erpower'd, Judge, by appearance, and externals:
Gave him the lie, and call'd him coward ; Train'd up in toil and useful knowledge,
Too hard for any frog's digestion, I'm fellow of the kitchen college,
To have his froghood call'd in question ! And with the mop, my old associate,
A bargain instantly was made, The family affairs negociate.
No mouse of honour could evade, Am foe to filth, and things obscene,
On the next morn, as soon as light, Dirty by making others clean.
With desperate bullrushes to fight; Not shining, yet I cause to shine,
The morning came—and man to man, My roughness makes my neighbours line;
The grand monomachy began ; You're fair without, but foul within,
Need I recount how each bravado, With shame impregnated, and sin;
Shone in montant and in passado; To you each impious scandal's owing,
To what a height their ire tbey carry'd, You set each gossip's clack a going.
How oft they thrusted and they parry'd; How Parson Tythe in secret sins,
But as these champions kept dispensing, And bow Miss Dainty brought forth twins:
Finesses in the art of fencing, How dear delicious Polly Bloom,
A furions vulture took upon her, Oxes all her sweetness to perfume;
Quick to decide this point of honour, Though grare at church, and cards can bet, And, lawyer like, to make an end on't, A: once a prude and a coquette.
Devour'd both plaintiff and defendant, 'Twas better for each British virgin,
Thus, often in our British nation, Whea on roast beef, strong beer, and sturgeon, (I speak by way of application)
The lime tree and sweet-scented bay;
Which certain bee, if rightly known, (The sole reward of many a lay)
Wou'd prove no better than a drone; And all the poets of the wing,
There are (but I shall name no names, Who sweetly without salary sing,
I never love to kindle flames) Attract at once his observation,
A pack of rogues with crimes grown callous, Peopling thy wilds, Imagination!
Who greatly wou'd adorn the gallows; ~ Sweet Nature, who this turf bedews,
That with the wasps, for paltry gold,
A secret correspondence hold,
Yet you'll be great your subjects free,
If the whole thing be left to me.--"
Thus, like the waters of the ocean, O infinite benignity!
His tongue had run in ceaseless motion, She smiles, but not alone on me;
Had not the queen ta'en up in wrath, On hill, on dale, on lake, on lawn,
This thing of folly and of froth. Like Celia when her picture's drawn ;
“ Impertinent and witless meddler, Assuming countless charms and airs,
Thou smattering, empty, noisy pedler! "Till Hayman's matchless art despairs,
By vanity, thou bladder blown, Pausing like me he dreads to fall
To be the football of the town. From the divine original.”
O happy England, land of freedom, More had he said--but in there came
Replete with statesmen, if she need 'em, A lout--Squire Booby was bis name.
Where war is wag'd by Sue or Nell, The bard, who at a distant view
And Jobson is a Machiavel! The busy prattling blockhead knew,
Tell Hardwick that his judgment fails, Retir'd into a secret nook,
Show Justice how to hold her scales.And thence his observations took,
To fire the soul at once, and please, Vex'd he cou'd find no man to teaa,
Teach Murray and Demosthenes; The squire 'gan chattering to the bees,
Say Vane is not by goodness grac'd, And pertly with officious mien,
And wants humanity and taste.He thus address'd their humming queen :
Tho' Pelham with Mæcenas vies, “ Madam, be not in any terrours;
Tell Fame she's false, and Truth she lies; I only come t'amend your errours ;
And then return, thou verbal Hector, My friendship briefly to display,
And give the bees another lecture.” And put you in a better way.
This said, the portal she unbarrd, Cease, madam, (if I may advise)
Calling the bees upon their guard, To carry honey on your thighs,
And set at once about his ears Employ ('tis better, I aver)
Ten thousand of her grenadiers. Old Grub, the fairies' coach-maker;
Some on his lips and palate hung, For he who has sufficient art
And the offending member stung. To make a coach, may make a cart.
“ Just” (says the bard from out the grot) To these you'll yoke some sixteen bees,
“Just, though severe, is your sad lot, Who will dispatch your work with ease ;
and And come and go,
Who think, and talk, and live in vain,. and come,
Of sweet society the bane. To bring your honey harvest home.
Business misplac'd is a mere jest,
And active idleness at best."
THE CITIZEN AND THE RED LION
I LOVE my friend--but love my ease,
And claim a right myself to please ; Myself wou'd gladly be an actor,
To company however prone, To help the honey manufacture.
At times all men wou'd be alone.
Free from each interruption rude,
Or what is meant by solitude.
My villa lies within the bills, If you'll ensure me from ibe laws,
Som like a theatre it fils : I'll write a pamphlet in your cause.
To me my kind acquaintance stray, I vow, I am concern'd to see
And Sunday proves no sabbath day; Your want of state-economy.
Yet many a friend aud near relation, Of nothing living I pronounce ill,
Make up a glorious congregation ; But I don't like your privy-council.
They crowd by dozens and by dozens, There is, I know, a certain bee,
And bring me all their country cousins. (Wou'd he was from the ministry)
Though cringing landlords on the road,
The lion thank'd him for his proffer,
And if a vacancy shou'd offer,
Declard he had too just a notion,
To be averse to such promotion,
The citizen drove off with joy,
“ For London-Ball--for London-hoy."
Content to bed he went his way,
And is no bankrupt to this day.
THE HERALD AND HUSBAND-MAN.
Nobilitas sula est atque unica virtus.
with friend Juvenal agree,
Virtue's the true nobility;
Has of herself sufficient charms,
Altho' without a cuat of arms.
llonestus does not know the rules,
Concerning Or and Fez, and Gules,
Yet sets the wond'ring eye to gaze on,
Such deeds no herald e'er could blaze on.
Tawdry achievements out of place,
Do but augment a fixol's disgrace ;
Wbo has a lion for his crest;
And things are come to such a pass,
Two horses may support an ass;
And on a gamester or buffoon,
A moral motto's a lampoon.
An honest rustic having done
His master's work 'wixt sun and sun,
Retir'd to dress a little spot,
Adjoining to his homely cot,
Where pl as’d, in miniature, he found
His landlord's culniary ground,
Some herbs that feed, and some that heal,
The winter's medicine or meal.
The sage, which in bis garden seen,
No man need ever die ' I wecn;
The marjoram comely to behold,
With thyme, and ruddiest marygold,
And mirt and pennyroyal sweet,
To deck the cottage windows meet,
And baum, that yields a finer juice
With carrots red, and turnips white,
And leeks, Cadwallader's delight;
And all the savory crop that vie
To please the palate and the eye.
A man of great escutcheon'd knowledge,
And member of the motley college.
Heedless the peasant pass'd he by,
Indulging this soliloquy;
“ Ye gods! what an enorinous space,
'Twixt man and man does Nature place;
While some by deels of honour rise,
To such a height, as far out-vies
The visible diurnal sphere;
While others, like this rustic here,
Grope in the groveling ground content,
Without or lincage or descent,
'Cur moriatur homo, cui salvia crescit in
Hail, Heraldry! mysterious art,
Thou to thy doom, old boy, art fated, Bright patroness of all desert,
To morrow—and thou shalt be baited." Mankind would on a level lie,
The deed was done-curse on the wrong! And undistinguisb'd live and die;
Bloody description, hold thy tongue.-Depriv'd of thy illustrious aid,
Victorious yet the ball return'd, Such! so momentous is our trade."
And with stern silence inly mourn'd. “Sir,” says the clown, “why sure you joke,” A vet’ran, brave, majestic cock, (And kept on digging as he spoke)
Who serv'd for hour glass, guard, and clock, “ And prate not to extort conviction,
Who crow'd the mansion's first relief, But merrily by way of fiction.
Alike from goblin aud from thief; Say, do your manuscripts attest,
Whose youth escap'd the Christmas skillet, What was old father Adam's crest;
Whose vigour brav'd the Shrovetide billet, Did he a nobler coat receive
Had just return'd in wounds and pain, In right of marrying Mrs. Eve;
Triumphant from the barbarous train. Or had supporters when he kiss'd her,
By riv'let's brink, with trees o'ergrown, On dexter side, and side sinister;
He heard bis fellow sufferer's moan; Or was his motto, prithee speak,
And greatly scorning wounds and smart, English, French, Latin, Welch, or Greek ; Gave bim three cheers with all his heart. Or was he not, without a lye,
“Rise, neighbour, from that pensive attitude, Just such a nobleman as I ?
Brave witness of vile man's ingratitude; Virtue, which great defects can stifle,
And let us both with spur and horn, May beam distinction on a trifle ;
The cruel reasoning monster scorn. And honour, with her native charms,
Methinks at every dawn of day, May beautify a coat of arms;
When first I chant my blithsome lay, Realities somewhat will thrive,
Methinks I hear from out the sky,
All will be better by and by ;
Who deviates from his Maker's plan;
And thus bis fellow servants uses, Health's on my countenance impress’d,
Shall greatly, and yet justly want, And sweet content's diy daily guest,
The mercy he refus'd to grant; My fame alone I build on this,
And (while his heart his conscience purges) And Garter King at Arms may kiss."
Shall wish to be the brute he scourges.”
HUMBLY ADDRESSED TO THR HISSERS AND CAT
CALLERS ATTENDING BOTH HOUSES.
A STORY OF A COCK AND A BULL. THE SNAKE, THE GOOSE, AND
When ruld by truth and nature's ways,
When just to blame, yet fix'd to praise, Who dares the contrary advance,
As votary of the Delphic god,
I reverence the critic's rod;
I hold all critics but as one;
For though they class themselves with art, Wou'd we'd a little unore humanity;
And each man takes a different part; Too far, I fear, I've drove the jest,
Yet whatsoe'er they praise and blame; So leave to cock and bull the rest.
They in their motives are the same, A bull, who'd listen'd to the vows
Forth as she waddled in the brake, Of above fifteen hundred cows;
A grey goose stumbled on a snake, And serv'd his master fresh and fresh,
And took th'occasion to abuse her, With hecatombs of special flesh,
And of rank plagiarism accuse her. Like to an hermit or a dervise,
“ 'Twas I," quoth she, “in every vale, (Grown old and feeble in the service)
First hiss'd the noisy nightingale; Now left the meadow's green parade,
And boldly cavill'd at each note, And sought a solitary shade.
"That twitter'd in the woodlark's throat: The cows proclaim'd in mournful-lowing, I, who sublime and more than mortal, The bull's deficiency in wooing,
Must stoop to enter at the portal, And to their disappointed master,
Have ever been the first to show All told the terrible disaster.
My bate to every thing that's lɔw; “ Is this the case" (quoth Hodge) “O rare! While thou, mean mimic of my manner, But hold, to morrow is the fair.
(Without inlisting to my banner)
Darist in thy grov'liog situation,
THE BAG-WIG AND THE TOBACCO.
A BAG-wig of a jauntee air.
Trick'd up with all a barber's care,
Loaded with powder and perfume,
And with its vapours far and near, “ Since no more animals we find
Outstunk the essence of Monsieur; In nature of the hissing kind,
At which its rage, the thing of hair, You should be friends with one another,
Thus, bristling up, began declare. Nay, kind as brother is to brother.
" Bak'd dirt! that with intrusion rude Por know, thou pattern of abuse,
Break'st in upon my solitude, Thou snake art but a crawling goose;.
And whose offensive breath defiles And thou dull dabbler in each lake,
The air for forty thousand miles
Avaunt-pollution's in thy touche
Go call the maid to call the man,
To take this odious pipe away.
Hideous! sure some one smok'd thee, friend, FABLE XV.
Reversely, at his t'other end.
Oh! what mix'd odours! wbat a throng With frowning brow, and aspect low'ring,
Of salt and sour; of stale and strong! As Abigail one day was scow'ring,
A most unnatural combination, From chair to chair she past along,
Enough to mar all perspirationWithout soliloquy or song;
Monstrous ! again—'twou'd vex a saint 1 Content, ja humdrum mood, t'adjust
Susan, the drops or else I faint !" Her matters to disperse the dust.
The pipe (for 'twas a pipe of soul) Thus plodded on the sullen fair,
Raising himself apon his bole, Till a dumb-waiter claim'd her care;
In smoke, like oracle of old, , She then in rage, with shrill salute,
Did thus his sentiments unfold.. Bespoke the inoffensive mute:
“Why, what's the matter, Goodman Swagget, “ Thou stupid tool of vapourish asses,
Thou flaunting French, fantastic bragger? With thy brown shelves for pots and glasses ;
Whose whole fine speech is (with a pox) Thon foreign whirligig, for whom
Ridiculous and heterodox. Us honest folks must quit the room,
'Twas better for the English nation And, like young misses at a christ'ning,
Before such scoundrels came in fashion, Are forc'd to be content with list’ning;
When none sought hair in realms unknown, Though thou’rt a fav'rite of my master's,
But every blockhead bore his own. 'll set thee gadding on thy castors.”
Know, puppy, I'm an English pipe, This said with many a rough attack,
Deem'd worthy of each Briton's gripe, She scrubb’d him 'till she made him crack;
Who, with my cloud-compelling aid, Insulted stronger still and stronger,
Help our plantations and our trade, The poor dumb thing could hold no longer
And am, when sober and when mellow, “Thou drab, born mops and brooms to datidle,
An upright, downright, honest fellow. Thou haberdasher of small scandal,
Though fools, like you, may think me rough, Factor of family abuse,
And scorn me, 'cause I am in buff, Retailer of domestic news;
Yet your contempt I glad receive, My lord, as soon as I appear,
'Tis all the fame that you can give: Confines thee in thy proper sphere;
None finery or fopp'ry prize, Or else, at er'ry place of call,
But they who've something to disguise; The chandler's shop, or cobler's stall,
For simple nature hates abuse,
And plainness is the dress of Use.”
CÁRE AND GENEROSITY.
OLD Care, with industry and art, But when such praters fill my place,
At length so well had play'd his part;
He heap'd up such an ample store,