But were you as wicked as lewd Aretine,

I wish you would tell me which way you incline. If when you return your road you don't line,

On Thursday I'll pay my respects at your shrine, Wherever you bend, wherever you twine,

In square, or in opposite, circle, or trine.

Your beef will on Thursday be salter than brine;
I hope you have swill'd with new milk from the kine,
As much as the Liffee's outdone by the Rhine;
And Dan shall be with us with nose aquiline.
If you do not come back we shall weep out our eyne;
Or may your gown never be good Lutherine.
The beef you have got
I hear is a chine;

But if too many come, your madam will whine;
And then you may kiss the low end of her spine.
But enough of this poetry Alexandrine;

I hope you will not think this a pasquine.

GEORGE ROCHFORT'S VERSES,

FOR THE REV. DR. SWIFT, dean of st. pATRICK'S, AT LARACON, NEAR TRIM.

MUSA CLONSHOGHIANA.

THAT Downpatrick's Dean, or Patrick's down went, Like two arrand Deans, two Deans errant I meant; So that Christmas appears at Bellcampe like a Lent, Gives the gamesters of both houses great discontent.

Our parsons agree here, as those did at Trent, Dan's forehead has got a most damnable dent, Besides a large hole in his Michaelmas rent.

But your fancy on rhyming so cursedly bent, With your bloody ouns in one stanza pent; Does Jack's utter ruin at picket prevent, For an answer in specie to yours must be sent ; So this moment at crambo (not shuffling) is spent, And I lose by this crotchet quaterze, point, and quint, Which you know to a gamester is great bitterment; But whisk shall revenge me on you, Batt, and Brent. Bellcampe, January 1, 1717.

A COPY OF A COPY OF VERSES,

FROM THOMAS SHERIDAN, CLERK, TO GEORGE-NIMDAN-DEAN, ESQ.

Written July 15, 1721, at night.

I'd have you t' know, George,1 Dan,2 Dean,3 and

Nim,+

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

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, says you, t's a merry whim, With 'bundance of mark'd notes i'th' rim,

1 George Rochfort.---F.

3 Dr. Swift.---F.

2 Mr. Jackson.---F.

Mr. John Rochfort, called by the Dean, Nimrod, or Nim, from his attachment to hunting.

So th❜t I ought n't for t' be morose 'nd t' look grim,
Think n't your 'p'stle put m' in a megrim ;
Though 'n rep't't'on day, I 'ppear ver❜ slim,
Th' last bowl 't Helsham'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'sides D'lan' swears th't I h'd swall'w'd s'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' scull were ('s 'tis n't) 's [Sanh'drim,

strong's tim

Ber, 't must have ach'd. Th' clans of th' c'llege Pres'nt the'r humbl' and 'fect'nate respects; that 's

t' say, D'ln', 'chlin, P. Ludl', Dic' St'wart, H'lsham, Capt'n P'rr' Walmsl', 'nd Longsh'nks Timm.1

GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN'S ANSWER.

DEAR Sheridan! a gentle pair
Of Gaulstown lads (for such they are)
Besides a brace of grave divines,
Adore the smoothness of thy lines:
Smooth as our basin's silver flood,
Ere George had robb'd it of its mud;
Smoother than Pegasus' old shoe,

Ere Vulcan comes to make him new.

1 Dr. James Stopford, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne.---F.

The board on which we set our a―s,
Is not so smooth as are thy verses ;
Compared with which (and that's enough)
A smoothing-iron itself is rough.

Nor praise I less that circumcision, By modern poets call'd elision, With which, in proper station placed, Thy polish'd lines are firmly braced.' Thus a wise tailor is not pinching, But turns at every seam an inch in: Or else, be sure, your broad-cloth breeches Will ne'er be smooth, nor hold their stitches. Thy verse, like bricks, defy the weather, When smooth'd by rubbing them together; Thy words so closely wedged and short are, Like walls, more lasting without mortar; By leaving out the needless vowels, You save the charge of lime and trowels. One letter still another locks, Each grooved and dovetail'd like a box; Thy muse is tuckt up and succinct; In chains thy syllables are linkt; Thy words together tied in small hanks, Close as the Macedonian phalanx ; Or like the umbo of the Romans,

Which fiercest foes could break by no means. The critic, to his grief will find,

How firmly these indentures bind.

In the Dubl. edit.--

Makes thy verse smooth, and makes them last.

So, in the kindred painter's art,
The shortening is the nicest part.
Philologers of future ages,

How will they pore upon thy pages!
Nor will they dare to break the joints,
But help thee to be read with points :
Or else, to show their learned labour, you
May backward be perused like Hebrew,
In which they need not lose a bit
Or of thy harmony or wit.

To make a work completely fine,
Number and weight and measure join;
Then all must grant your lines are weighty,
Where thirty weigh as much as eighty;
All must allow your numbers more,
Where twenty lines exceed fourscore;
Nor can we think your measure short,
Where less than forty fill a quart,
With Alexandrian in the close,

Long, long, long, long, like Dan's long nose.

GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN'S INVITATION

TO THOMAS SHERIDAN.

Gaulstown, Aug. 2, 1721.

DEAR Tom, this verse, which however the beginning may appear, yet in the end's good metre, Is sent to desire that, when your August vacation comes, your friends you'd meet here.