Therefore to thy fuperior wit,
Who made the trial, we fubmit ;
Thy head to prove the truth of it

we wanted.

In one affertion you're to blame,
Where Dan and Sherry's made the same,
Endeavouring to have your name

refin'd, Sir:

You'll see most grossly you mistook,
If you confult your spelling-book,
(The better half you fay you took)

you'll find, Sir;

S, H, E, fhe---and R, I, ri,
Both put together make Sherry,
D, A, N, Dan---makes up the three

Dan is but one, and Sherri two,

fyllables;

Then, Sir, your choice will never do;
Therefore I've turn'd, my friend, on you

the tables.

DR. DELANY'S REPLY.

ASSIST me, my Muse, while I labour to lima

him :

Credite, Pifones, ifti tabulæ perfimilem.

You look and you write with fo different a grace, That I envy your verse, though I did not your face.

And

And to him that thinks rightly, there's reafon enough, 'Cause one is as fmooth, as the other is rough.

But much I'm amaz'd you should think my design Was to rhyme down your nofe, or your harlequin grin,

Which you yourself wonder the de'el should malign.
And if 'tis fo ftrange, that your monstership's crany
Should be envy'd by him, much less by Delany;
Though I own to you, when I confider it stricter,
I envy the painter, although not the picture.
And juftly fhe's envy'd, fince a fiend of Hell
Was never drawn right but by her and Raphael.
Next, as to the charge, which you tell us is true,
That we were infpir'd by the fubject we drew.
Infpir'd we were, and well, Sir, you knew it,
Yet not by your nofe, but the fair one that drew it:
Had your nose been the Muse, we had ne'er been
infpir'd,

Tho' perhaps it might juftly've been faid we weref'd.
As to the divifion of words in your staves,
Like my countryman's horn-comb, into three halves,
I meddle not with 't, but prefume to make merry,
You called Dan one half, and t'other half Sherry:
Now if Dan's a half, as you call 't o'er and o'er,
Then it can't be deny'd that Sherry's two more.
For pray give me leave to fay, Sir, for all you,
That Sherry's at least of double the value.
But perhaps, Sir, you did it to fill up the verse:
So crowds in a concert (like actors in farce)
Play two parts in one, when fcrapers are fcarce.
But be that as 'twill, you'll know more anon, Sir,
When Sheridan fends to Merry Dan answer.

}

SHE

SHERIDAN'S REPLY.

THREE merry lads you own we are ; 'Tis very true, and free from care,

But envious we cannot bear,

For, were all forms of beauty thine,
Were you like Nereus foft and fine,
We should not in the leaft repine,

believe, Sir:

or grieve, Sir.

Then know from us, most beauteous Dan,
That roughness beft becomes a man;

'Tis women fhould be pale and wan,

and taper;

And all your trifling beaux and fops,
Who comb their brows, and fleek their chops,
Are but the offspring of toy-fhops,

meer vapour.

We know your morning-hours you pafs
To cull and gather out a face;
Is this the way you take your glass?

Forbear it:

Those loads of paint upon your toilet,
Will never mend your face, but spoil it,
It looks as if you did par-boil it:

Drink claret.

Your

Your cheeks, by fleeking, are fo lean,
That they're like Cynthia in the wane,
Or breast of goofe when 'tis pick'd clean,

See what by drinking you have done :
You've made your phiz a skeleton,
From the long distance of your crown,

or pullet;

t'your gullet.

A REJOIND e r.

BY THE DEAN, IN JACKSON'S NAME.

WEARIED with faying grace and prayer,

1 haften'd down to country air,

To read your answer, and prepare

.But your fair lines fo grofsly flatter,
Pray, do they praise me, or befpatter?
I must suspect you mean the latter-

It must be fo! what else, alas!
Can mean by culling of a face,
And all that stuff of toilet, glafs,

reply to't;

Ah! fly-boot!

and box-comb?

But be't as 'twill, this you muft grant,
'That you're a dawb, whilst I but paint;
Then which of us two is the quaint-

I value not your jokes of noofe,
Your gibes, and all your foul abuse,
More than the dirt beneath my fhoes,

nor fear it :

Yet one thing vexes me, I own,
Thou forry scare-crow of skin and bone;
To be call'd lean by a skeleton,

who'd bear it?

'Tis true indeed, to curry friends,
You seem to praife, to make amends,
And yet, before your ftanza ends,

you flout me

'Bout latent charms beneath my cloaths; For every one that knows me knows That I have nothing like nofe

my

I pass now where you fleer and laugh, 'Cause I call Dan my better half!

about me:

have me fafe!

But hold, Sir:

Is not a penny often found

To be much greater than a pound?

By your good leave, my most profound

and bold Sir,

Dan's noble mettle, Sherry base;
So Dan's the better, though the lefs,
An ounce of gold's worth ten of brass,

dull pedant!

As