At the fides there was fpinnage, and pudding made hot;
In the middle, a place where the pasty—was not.
Now, my lord, as for tripe, it's my utter averfion,
And your bacon I hate, like a Turk or a Perfian;
So there I fat ftuck, like a horfe in a pound,
While the bacon and liver went merrily round:
But what vex'd me moft, was that d- -'d Scottish rogue,
With his long-winded fpeeches, his fmiles, and his brogue;
And "Madam," quoth he,

may this bit, be my

"A prettier dinner I never fet eyes on;

"Pray, a flice of your liver, though may I be cur, "But I've eat of your tripe, till I'm ready to burst.". "The tripe," quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek, "I could dine on this tripe seven days in a week:

"I like these here dinners, fo pretty and small,

But your friend there, the Doctor, eats nothing at all.""O! ho!" quoth my friend, "he'll come on in a trice, "He's keeping a corner for fomething that's nice: "There's a pafty"—" A pafty!" repeated the Jew; "I don't care if I keep a corner for't too."

"What the de'il, mon, a pasty !" re-echo'd the Scot,
"Though splitting, I'll still keep a corner for that.”
"We'll all keep a corner," the lady cry'd out>
"We'll all keep a corner," was echo'd about.
While thus we refolv'd, and the pafty delay'd,
With looks that quite petrified, enter'd the maid:

A vifage

A vifage fo fad, and so pale, with affright,

Wak'd Priam, in drawing his curtains by night.

But we quickly found out, for who could mistake her?
That the came with fome terrible news from the baker!
And fo it fell out; for that negligent floven,'”

Had shut out the pasty, on shutting his oven!
Sad Philomel thus-but let fimilies drop-
And now that I think on't, the story may stop.
To be plain, my good lord, it's but labour misplac'd,
To fend fuch good verfes to one of your taste :
You've got an odd fomething-a kind of discerning➡
A relish—a taste-ficken'd over by learning;

At leaft it's your temper, as very well known,

That you think very flightly of all that's your own:

So, perhaps, in your habits of thinking amifs,

You may make a mistake, and think flightly of this.

A DESCRIP

A

DESCRIPTION

W

OF AN

AUTHOR's BED-CHAMBER.

HERE the Red Lion, ftaring o'er the way,

Invites each paffing stranger that can pay :

Where Calvert's butt, and Parfons' black champaign, Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-Lane:

There in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,

The MUSE found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug!

A window patch'd with paper, lent a

ray,

That dimly fhew'd the state in which he lay;

The fanded floor, that grits beneath the tread ;
The humid wall with paltry pictures spread ;
The royal game of goofe was there in view;
And the twelve rules the Royal Martyr drew;
The Seafons, fram'd with lifting, found a place;
And brave Prince William shew'd his lamp-black face:
The morn was cold, he views with keen defire

The rufty grate, unconfcious of a fire:

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was fcor'd,

And five crack'd tea-cups dress'd the chimney-board.
A night-eap deck'd his brows, instead of bay;

A cap by nighta ftocking all the day!

THE

THE

LOGICIANS REFUTED.

IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFTS

L

OGICIANS have but ill defin'd
As rational, the human mind:
Reason, they fay, belongs to man,
But let them prove it, if they can.
Wife Aristotle and Smiglefius,

By ratiocinations specious,

Have ftrove to prove with great precifion,

With definition and divifion,

Homo eft ratione preditum;

But, for my foul, I cannot credit 'em.
And muft, in fpite of them, maintain,
That man and all his ways are vain;
And that this boafted lord of nature

Is both a weak and erring creature.
That instinct is a furer guide
Than reafon, boasting mortal's pride;

And

And that brute beafts are far before 'em, Deus eft anima brutorum.

Whoever knew an honeft brute

At law his neighbour profecute,
Bring action for affault and battery,
Or friend beguile with lies and flattery?
O'er plains they ramble unconfin'd,
No politics disturb their mind;

They eat their meals, and take their sport,

Nor know who's in or out at court;

They never to the levee gó

To treat, as dearest friend, a foe:

They never importune his

grace,

Nor ever cringe to men in place;
Nor undertake a dirty job,

Nor draw the quill to write for Bob.
Fraught with invective they ne'er ga
To folks at Pater-nofter Row:
No judges, fidlers, dancing-mafters,
No pick-pockets, or poetasters,
Are known to honest quadrupeds,
No fingle brute his fellows leads.
Brutes never meet in bloody fray,
Nor cut each other's throats for pay.
Of beasts, it is confefs'd, the ape
Comes nearest us in human fhape;