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O'erfees the work, or Dragon * rows,

Or mars a text, or mends his hofe ;
Or---but proceed we in our journal---
At two, or after, we return all:

From the four elements affembling,

Warn'd by the bell, all folks come trembling:
From airy garrets fome defcend,

Some from the lake's remotest end :
My Lord † and Dean the fire forfake,
Dan leaves the earthy fpade and rake:
The loiterers quake, no corner hides them,
And lady Betty foundly chides them.
Now water's brought, and dinner's done :
With "Church and King" the lady's gone :
Not reckoning half an hour we pafs

In talking o'er a moderate glass.

Dan, growing drowly, like a thief

Steals off to dofe away his beef;

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35.

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And this must pass for reading Hammond---
While George and Dean go to backgammon.
George, Nim, and Dean, set out at four,
And then again, boys, to the oar.
But when the fun goes to the deep
(Not to disturb him in his fleep,
Or make a rumbling o'er his head,
His candle out, and he a-bed).
We watch his motions to a minute,
And leave the flood when he goes

A small boat fo called.

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in it.

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+ Mr. Rochfort's father was lord chief baron of the exchequer in

Ireland.

Now

Now ftinted in the fhortening day,
We go to prayers, and then to play,
Till fupper comes; and after that
We fit an hour to drink and chat.
Tis late---the old and younger pairs,
By Adam * lighted, walk up ftairs.
The weary Dean goes to his chamber;
And Nim and Dan to garret clamber.
So when the circle we have run,
The curtain falls, and all is done.

I might have mention'd feveral facts,

Like epifodes between the acts ;
And tell who lofes and who wins,
Who gets a cold, who breaks his fhins
How Dan caught nothing in his net,
And how the boat was overset.
For brevity I have retrench'd

;

How in the lake the Dean was drench'd:
It would be an exploit to brag on,

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бо

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How valiant George rode o'er the Dragon;

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How fteady in the ftorm he fat,

And fav'd his oar, but loft his hat:

Now Nim (no hunter e'er could match him)

Still brings us hares, when he can catch them:

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How haughtily he cocks his nofe,
To tell what every school-boy knows:
And with his finger and his thumb,
Explaining, ftrikes oppofers dumb:

But now there needs no more be faid on't,
Nor how his wife, that female pedant,
Shews all her fecrets of house-keeping;
For candles how the trucks her dripping;
Was forc'd to fend three miles for yeast,
To brew her ale, and raise her paste;
Tells every thing that
you can think of,
How the cur'd Charly of the chin-cough;
What gave her brats and pigs the meafles,
And how her doves were kill'd by weafels;
How Jowler howl'd, and what a fright
She had with dreams the other night.

fo far on,

But now, fince I have gone
A word or two of lord chief baron;
And tell how little weight he fets
On all Whig papers and Gazettes;

But for the politics of Pue,

Thinks every fyllable is true.

And fince he owns the king of Sweden
Is dead at laft, without evading,

Now all his hopes are in the Czar:

"Why, Mufcovy is not fo far:

"Down the Black Sea, and up the Streights,

"And in a month he's at your gates;

"Perhaps, from what the packet brings,

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"By Christmas we shall fee ftrange things." 110 Why fhould I tell of ponds and drains, What carps we met with for our pains;

Of

Of fparrows tam'd, and nuts innumerable

To choak the girls, and to confume a rabble?

But you, who are a scholar, know

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How tranfient all things are below,
How prone to change is human life!
Laft night arriv'd Clem * and his wife-
This grand event has broke our measures;
Their reign began with cruel feizures:

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The Dean muft with his quilt fupply
The bed in which thofe tyrants lie:
Nim loft his wig-block, Dan his jordan,

(My lady fays, fhe can't afford one)

George is half scar'd out of his wits,

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For Clem gets all the dainty bits.

Henceforth expect a different furvey,
This houfe will foon turn topfy-turvey:

They talk of farther alterations,

Which caufes many fpeculations.

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THOMAS SHERIDAN, CLERK, TO GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN, ESQ

July 15, 1721, at night.

I'D have you t' know, George †, Dan ‡, Dean ŷ,

and Nim,

That I've learned how verse t' compose trim,

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Much better b' half th'n you, n'r you,
n'r him,
And that I'd rid'cule their 'nd your flam-flim,
Ay' b't then, p'rhaps, fays you, t's a merry 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' swim,
So th❜t I h'd man' aches n' 'v'ry scrubb'd limb,
Cause 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 pimples: 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'llege Sanh'drim,

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

GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN's ANSWER.

DEAR Sheridan! a gentle pair

Of Gaulftown lads (for fuch they are)
Befide 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 Pegasus' old fhoe,
Ere Vulcan comes to make him new.

Dr. James Stopford, afterwards bishop of Cloyne.

The

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