« AnteriorContinua »
To t'other ear I felt it coming on:
'Tis true, a glass will bring supplies To weak, or old, or clouded eyes: Your arms, though both your eyes were lost, Would guard your nose against a post: Without your legs two legs of wood Are stronger and almost as good: And as for hands, there have been those, Who wanting both have us'd their toes But no contrivance yet appears To furnish artificial ears.
A quiet LIFE and a good NAME.
To a friend who married a fhrew.
Written in the Year 1724.
ELL fcolded in fo loud a din, 'That Will durft hardly venture in : He markt the conjugal difpute; Nell roar'd inceffant, Dick fat mute; But, when he saw his friend appear, Cry'd bravely, Patience, good my dear.
There was about this time a man fhewed, who wrote with his foot.
At fight of Will, fhe bawl'd no more,
Why Dick! the devil's in thy Nell, (Quoth Will) thy house is worse than hell : Why what a peal the jade has rung! D-n her, why don't you flit her tongue? For nothing else will make it cease. Dear Will, I fuffer this for peace: I never quarrel with my wife; I bear it for a quiet life. Scripture you know exhorts us to it; Bids us to feek peace, and enfue it.
Will went again to vifit Dick; And ent'ring in the very nick, He faw virago Nell belabour, With Dick's own ftaff, his peaceful neigh
Poor Will, who needs muft interpofe,
But now, to make my story short Will drew out Dick to take a quart. Why, Dick, thy wife has dev'lifh whims; Ods-buds, why don't you break her limbs? If he were mine, and had fuch tricks, I'd teach her how to handle flicks :
Z―ds, I would fhip her to Jamaica,
A riding, a humorous cavalcade ftill practifed in fome parts of England to ridicule a fcolding wife and henpecked husband: : a woman bestrides
the horfe, and with a ladle chaftifes a man, who fits on a pillion behind her with his face to the horfe's tail.
False patience and mistaken pride! There are ten thousand Dicks befide; Slaves to their quiet and good name, Are us'd like Dick, and bear the blame.
Some ingenious gentlemen, friends to the author, ufed to entertain themselves with writing riddles, and fending them to him and their other acquaintance; copies of which ran about, and fome of them were printed both in England and Ireland. The author at his leisure hours fell into the fame amufement; although it be faid, that he thought them of no great merit, entertainment, or ufe. However, by the advice of fome perfons, for whom the author had a great efteem, and who were pleafed to fend the copies, the few followlowing have been published (which are allowed to be genuine): because we are informed that feveral good judges have a taste for fuch kind of compofitions.
Written in the Year 1724.
N youth exalted high in air,
Nature to form me took delight,
I speak to eyes, and not to ears.
And makes me tell a thoufand lies:
All languages I can command, Yet not a word I underftand.