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KIT, run to your Master, and bid him come

to us,

you

I'm sure he'll be proud of the Honour do

us;

And, Captain, you'll do us the Favour to stay,
And take a fhort Dinner here with us To-day:
You're heartily welcome: But as for good Chear,
You come in the very worst time of the Year;
If I had expected fo worthy a Gueft:-

Lord! Madam! your Ladyfhip fure is in Jeft;
You banter me, Madam, the Kingdom must

grant

You Officers, Captain, are so complaisant.

"HIST, Huzzy, I think I hear fome Body coming

No, Madam; 'tis only Sir Arthur a humming.

To shorten my Tale, (for I hate a long Story,) The Captain at Dinner appears in his Glory; The Dean and the Doctor have humbled their Pride,

For the Captain's entreated to fit by your Side; And, because he's their Betters, you carve for him

first,

The Parfons, for Envy, are ready to burst:
The Servants amaz'd, are scarce ever able

To keep off their Eyes, as they wait at the Table;
And, Molly and I have thruft in our Nose,
To peep at the Captain, in all his fine Clo'es:

Dear

*Doctor JENNY, a Clergyman in the Neighbourhood.

Dear Madam, be fure he's a fine spoken Man,
Do but hear on the Clergy how glib his Tongue

ran;

“And, Madam, says he, if such Dinners you give, "You'll never want Parfons as long as you live; "I ne'er knew a Parfon without a good Nose, "But the Devil's as welcome wherever he goes: "Gdme, they bid us reform and repent, "But, Z-s, by their Looks, they never keep Lent: "Mifter Curate, for all your grave Looks, I'm afraid,

"You caft a Sheep's Eye on her Ladyfhip's Maid; "I I wifh fhe wou'd lend you her pretty white Hand, "In mending your Caffock, and smoothing your Band:

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(For the Dean was fo fhabby, and look'd like a

Ninny,

That the Captain fuppos'd he was Curate to Jenny.) "Whenever you fee a Caffock and Gown, "A Hundred to One, but it covers a Clown; "Observe how a Parfon comes into a Room, "G-d-me, he hobbles as bad as my Groom; "A Scholard, when just from his College broke looie,

"Can hardly tell how to cry Bo to a Goose; "Your Noveds, and Blutracks, and Omurs and Stuff,

By G they don't fignify this Pinch of

"By

Snuff.

VOL. II.

T

Ovids, Plutarchs, Homers

" To

"To give a young Gentleman right Education, "The Army's the only good School in the Nation;

My School-Mafter call'd me a Dunce and a Fool, ***But, atCuffs, I was always theCock of theSchool; "I never cou'd take to my Book for the Blood o'me,

"And the Puppy confefs'd, he expected no Good 'me:

"He caught me one Morning coquetting his Wife, But he maul'd me, I ne'er was fo maul'd in my

Life:

"So, I took to the Road, and what's very odd,
"The first Man I robb'd, was a Parson, by G
"Now Madam, you think it a strange thing to
fay,

But, the Sight of a Book makes me fick to this
Day.

NEVER fince I was born did I hear fo much
Wit,

And, Madam, I laugh'd till I thought I shou'd fplit.

So, then you look'd fcornful, and fnift at the Dean,
As, who fhou'd fay, Now am I * Skinny and Lean?
But, he durft not fo much as once open
his Lips,
And, the Doctor was plaguily down in the Hips.

THUS, merciless Hannah, ran on in her Talk, Till fhe heard the Dean call, Will your Ladyship walk?

*Nick-Names for my Lady,

Her

Her Ladyship answers, I'm just coming down;
Then, turning to Hannah, and forcing a Frown,
Although it was plain, in her Heart she was glad,
Cry'd, Huzzy, why fure the Wench is gone mad:
How cou'd these Chimera's get into your Brains?-
Come hither, and take this old Gown for your Pains.
But, the Dean, if this Secret shou'd come to his Ears,
Will never have done with his Gibes and his Jeers:
For your Life, not a Word of the Matter, I charge

ye;

Give me but a Barrack, a Fig for the Clergy.

A Libel on the Reverend Dr. Delany, and his Excellency JOHN Lord CARTERET.

To Dr. DELANY, occafioned by his Epistle to his Excellency JOHN Lord CARTERET.

D

Written in the Year 1729.

ELUDED Mortals, whom the Great
Chufe for Companions téte a téte;

Who, at their Dinners, en famille,
Get leave to fit whene'er you will;
Then, boafting, tell us where you din'd,
And, how his Lordship was fo kind;
How many pleafant Things he spoke,
And, how you laugh'd at ev'ry Joke:

T 2

Swear,

Swear, he's a moft facetious Man,
That you and he are Cup and Cann.
You travel with a heavy Load,
And quite mistake Preferment's Road.
you alone,
Hint the least Int'reft of your own;
His Vifage drops, he knits his Brow,
He cannot talk of Bus'ness now:
Or, mention but a vacant Post,
He'll turn it off with, Name your Toast.
Nor could the nicest Artist paint,
A Countenance with more Conftraint.

SUPPOSE my Lord and

FOR, as their Appetites to quench,
Lords keep a Pimp to bring a Wench;
So, Men of Wit are but a Kind
Of Pandars to a vicious Mind;
Who proper Objects must provide
To gratify their Luft of Pride,
When weary'd with Intrigues of State,
They find an idle Hour to prate.
Then, fhou'd you dare to afk a Place,
You forfeit all your Patron's Grace,
And disappoint the fole Design,
For which he fummon'd you to dine.

THUS, Congreve spent, in writing Plays,
And one poor Office, half his Days;

While * Mountague, who claim'd the Station
To be Mecanas of the Nation,

*Lord HALLIFAX.

For

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