For when, by chance, the
Upon thy hand his finger laid,
Thy hand as dry and cold as lead,.
His matrimonial spirit fled;
He felt about his heart a damp,
That quite extinguish'd Cupid's lamp :
Away the frighted spectre fcuds,
And leaves my lady in the fuds.
On STEPHEN DUCK, the THRESHER, and favourite POET.
Written in the year 1730.
HE thresher Duck could o'er the Queen prevail, The proverb fays, No fence against a flail. From threshing corn he turns to thresh his brains ; For which her Majefty allows him grains. Tho' 'tis confefs'd, that those who ever faw His poems, think them all not worth a straw! Thrice happy Duck, employ'd in threshing stubble! Thy toil is leffen'd, and thy profits double.
A PANEGYRIC on the DEAN, in the perfon of a LADY in the north t.
Written in the year 1730.
REfolv'd my gratitude to fhow,
Thrice Rev'rend Dean, for all I owe,
Too long I have my thanks delay'd;
Your favours left too long unpaid;'
But now, in all our fex's name,
My artless muse shall fing your fame.
The Lady of Sir Arthur Achefon.
INDULGENT you to female kind,
To all their weaker fides are blind;
Nine more fuch champions as the Dean
Would foon restore our ancient reign.
How well to win the ladies hearts,
You celebrate their wit and parts!
How have I felt my spirits rais'd,
By you fo oft, fo highly prais'd!
Transform'd, by your convincing tongue,
To witty, beautiful, and young.
I hope to quit that awkward shame
Affected by each vulgar dame,
To modesty a weak pretence;
And foon grow pert on men of fense;
To fhew my face with fcornful air,
Let others match it, if they dare.
IMPATIENT to be out of debt,
O, may I never once forget
The bard, who humbly daigns to chufe
Me for the fubject of his mufe.
Behind my back, before my nofe,
He founds my praise in verfe and profe,
My heart with emulation burns
To make you fuitable returns:
My gratitude the world fhall know:
And, fee, the printer's boy below;
Ye hawkers all, your voices lift;
A panegyric on Dean Swift;
And then, to mend the matter still,
By Lady Anne of Market-hill 1.
I thus begin: My grateful mufe
Salutes the Dean in diff'rent views ;
Dean, butler, ufher, jefter, tutor;
A village near Sir Arthur Achefon's houfe, where the author
Robert and Darby's || coadjutor:
The names of two overseers.
And as you in commiffion fit,
To rule the dairy next to Kit *.
IN each capacity I mean
To fing your praise. And first as Dean :
Envy must own, you understand your
Precedence, and support your grandeur :
Nor of your rank will bate an ace,
Except to give Dean Daniel place.
In you fuch dignity appears;
So fuited to your state and years!
With ladies what a ftrict decorum!
With what devotion you adore 'em!
Treat me with fo much complaifance,
As fits a princefs in romance!
By your example and affiftance,
PROCEED We to your preaching † next ;
How nice you split the hardest text!
How your fuperior learning shines
Above our neighb'ring dull divines!
At Beggar's Opera † not fo full pit
Is feen, as when you mount our pulpit.
CONSIDER NOW your conversation :
Regardful of your age and station,
You ne'er was known by paffion ftir'd,
To give the leaft offenfive word:
But ftill, whene'er you filence break,
Watch ev'ry fyllable you speak:
Your ftile fo clear, and fo concife,
We never ask to hear you twice.
*My Lady's footman.
The author preached but once while he was there.
A play written by Mr Gay.
But then, a parfon so genteel,
So nicely clad from head to heel;
So fine a gown, a band fo clean,
As well become St Patrick's Dean;
Such reverential awe express,
That cow-boys know you by your drefs!
Then, if our neighb'ring friends come here,
How proud are we when you appear,
With fuch address, and graceful port,
As clearly fhews you bred at court!
Now raise your spirits, Mr Dean,
I lead you to a nobler scene
When to the vault you walk in ftate,
In quality of butler's mate:
You next to Dennis † bear the sway :
you we often truft the key:
Nor can he judge with all his art
So well, what bottle holds a quart;
What pints may best for bottles pafs,
Juft to give ev'ry man his glass ;
When proper to produce the beft;
And what may ferve a common guest.
With Dennis you did ne'er combine,
Not you, to steal your master's wine;
Except a bottle now and then,
To welcome brother ferving-men;
But that is with a good defign,
To drink Sir Arthur's health and mine;
Your mafter's honour to maintain,
Your usher's post must next be handled : How blefs'd am I by fuch a man led!
* He fometimes used to direct the butler.
+ The butler.
He fometimes ufed to walk with the Lady
Under whose wife and careful guardship
I now despise fatigue and hardship:
Familiar grown to dirt and wet,
Tho' daggled round, I fcorn to fret:
From you my chamber-damfels learn
My broken hofe to patch and darn.
Now as a jefter I accoft you;
Which never yet one friend has loft you.
You judge fo nicely to a hair,
How far to go, and when to fpare.
By long experience grown fo wife,
Of ev'ry taste to know the fize,
There's none fo ignorant or weak
To take offence at what you
fpeak.
Whene'er you joke, 'tis all a cafe,
Whether with Dermot, or his Grace;
With Teague o'Murphy, or an Earl,
A Duchefs or a kitchen-girl,
With fuch dexterity you' fit
And, fure as they're alive, at night,
As foon as gone, will fhow their fspight:
*The neighbouring ladies were no great understanders of raillery.
+ The clown that cut down the old thorn at Market-hill.
In bad weather the author used to direct my Lady in her reading.
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