And tell how little weight he sets
On all Whig papers and gazettes;
But for the politics of Pue2,
Thinks every syllable is true;

And since he owns the King of Sweden
Is dead at last, without evading,

Now all his hopes are in the Czar :

Why, Muscovy is not so far;

Down the Black Sea, and up the Streights,
And in a month he's at your gates;
Perhaps, from what the packet brings,
By Christmas we shall see strange things.'
Why should I tell of ponds and drains,
What carps we met with for our pains;
Of sparrows tamed, and nuts innumerable
To choke the girls, and to consume a rabble?
But you, who are a scholar, know
How transient all things are below;
How prone to change is human life!
Last night arrived Clem3 and his wife-
This grand event hath broke our measures:
Their reign began with cruel seizures;
The Dean must with his quilt supply
The bed in which those tyrants lie.
Nim lost his wig-block, Dan his jordan,
(My lady says she can't afford one)
George is half scared out of his wits,
For Clem gets all the dainty bits.
Henceforth expect a different survey,
This house will soon turn topsyturvy;
They talk of further alterations,
Which causes many speculations.

2 A Tory newswriter.

3 Mr. Clement Barry.

MARY THE COOK-MAID'S LETTER

TO DR. SHERIDAN.

1723.

WELL, if ever I saw such another man since my mother bound my head!

You a gentleman! marry come up, I wonder where you were bred,

I am sure such words does not become a man of

your cloth;

I would not give such language to a dog, faith and troth.

Yes, you call'd my master a knave: fye! Mr. Sheridan: 'tis a shame

For a parson, who should know better things, to come out with such a name.

Knave in your teeth! Mr. Sheridan; 'tis both a shame and a sin:

Ánd the Dean, my master, is an honester man than you and all your kin :

He has more goodness in his little finger than you have in your whole body:

My master is a personable man, and not a spindle-shank'd hoddy-doddy.

And now, whereby I find you would fain make

an excuse,

Because my master one day, in

goose;

anger, call'd you

Which, and I am sure I have been his servant four years since October,

And he never call'd me worse than sweetheart, drunk or sober;

Not that I know his reverence was ever concern'd to my knowledge,

Though you and your come-rogues keep him out so late in your wicked College.

You say you will eat grass on his grave. A Christian eat grass!

Whereby you now confess yourself to be a goose

or an ass.

ye;

But that's as much as to say, that my master should die before Well, well, that's as God pleases; and I don't believe that's a true story;

And so say I told you so, and you may go tell my master; what care I?

And I don't care who knows it; 'tis all one to Mary. Every body knows that I love to tell truth and shame the devil:

I am but a poor servant; but I think gentlefolks should be civil.

Besides, you

found fault with our victuals one day that you was here;

I remember it was on a Tuesday, of all days in the year:

And Saunders, the man, says you are always jesting and mocking.

'Mary, (said he, one day as I was mending my master's stocking)

My master is so fond of that minister that keeps the school

I thought my master a wise man, but that man makes him a fool.'

'Saunders, (said I,) I would rather than a quart of ale

He would come into our kitchen, and I would pin a dishclout to his tail.'

And now I must go and get Saunders to direct this letter,

For I write but a sad scrawl; but my sister Marget she writes better.

Well, but I must run and make the bed before my master comes from prayers;

And see, now, it strikes ten, and I hear him coming up stairs:

Whereof I could say more to your verses, if I could write written hand;

And so I remain, in a civil way, your servant to command,

MARY.

CARBERIE RUPES,

INCOMITATU CORGAGENSI, APUD HIBERNICOS.

SCRIPSIT JUN. ANN. DOM. 1723.

Ecce ingens fragmen scopuli, quod vertice summo
Desuper impendet, nullo fundamine nixum
Decidit in fluctus: maria undique et undique saxa
Horrisono stridore tonant, et ad æthera murmur
Erigitur; trepidatque suis Neptunus in undis.
Nam, longâ venti rabie, atque aspergine crebra
Æquorei laticis, specus imâ rupe cavatur:
Jam fultura ruit, jam summa cacumina nutant;
Jam cadit in præceps moles, et verberat undas.
Attonitus credas, hinc dejecisse tonantem
Montibus impositos montes, et Pelion altum
In capita anguipedum cœlo jaculâsse gigantum.
Sæpe etiam spelunca immani aperitur hiatu
Exesa è scopulis, et utrinque foramina pandit,

Hinc atque hinc a ponto ad pontum pervia Phœbo.
Cautibus enormè junctis laquearia tecti
Formantur; moles olim ruitura superne.
Fornice sublimi nidos posuere palumbes,
Inque imo stagni posuere cubilia phocæ.

Sed, cum sævit Hyems, et venti, carcere rupto,
Immensos volvunt fluctus ad culmina montis,
Non obsessæ arces, non fulmina vindice dextrâ
Missa Jovis, quoties inimicas sævit in urbes,
Exæquant sonitum undarum, veniente procellâ :
Littora littoribus reboant; vicinia latè,
Gens assueta mari, et pedibus percurrere rupes,
Terretur tamen, et longè fugit, arva relinquens.
Gramina dum carpunt pendentes rupe capellæ,
Vi salientis aquæ de summo præcipitantur,
Et dulces animas imo sub gurgite linquunt,
Piscator terrâ non audet vellere funem:
Sed latet in portu tremebundus, et, aëra sudum
Haud sperans, Nereum precibus votisque fatigat,

CARBERY ROCKS,

IN THE COUNTY OF CORKE, IRELAND'.

Lo! from the top of yonder cliff, that shrouds
Its airy head amidst the azure clouds,
Hangs a huge fragment, destitute of props;
Prone on the waves the rocky ruin drops!
With hoarse rebuff the swelling seas rebound,
From shore to shore the rocks return the sound;

1 This translation of the preceding poem was made by Mr, W. Dunkin, M. A. for whom the Dean expressed a great regard on account of his ingenious performances, though unacquainted with him.