The dean muft with his quilt fupply
The bed in which thofe tyrants lie ;
Nim loft his wig-block, Dan his jordan,
(My lady fays fhe can't afford one ;)
George is half fear'd out of his wits,
For Clem. gets all the dainty bits.
Henceforth expect a diff'rent furvey,
This house will foon turn topsy-turvy :
They talk of further alterations,
Which causes many speculations,

A

PASTORAL DIALOGUE.

Written in the Year 1728.

DERMOT, SHEELAH.

A Nymph and fwain, Sheelah and Der

mot hight,

Who wont to weed the court of Gosford knight *,

While each with ftubbed knife remov'd the

roots

That rais'd between the stones their daily

fhoots;

* Sir Arthur Achefon, whofe great grandfather was Sir Archibald of Gosford in Scotland,

As at their work they fat in counterview, With mutual beauty fmit, their paffion grew. Sing, heavenly mufe! in fweetly-flowing ftrain

The foft endearments of the nymph and fwain.

DERMOT.

My love to Sheelah is more firmly fixt, Than ftrongeft weeds that grow these stones

betwixt :

My fpud these nettles from the ftones can part,

Noknife fokeen to weed thee from my heart.

SHEELAH.

My love for gentle Dermot fafter grows, Than yon tall dock that rises to thy nose. Cut down the dock, 'twill sprout again; but oh!

Love rooted out again will never grow.

DERMOT.

No more that brier thy tender legs shall rake;

(I fpare the thiftle for Sir Arthur's * fake.)

Who is a great lover of Scotland.

Sharp

Sharp are the stones; take thou this rushy

matt;

The hardest bum will bruife with fitting fquat.

SHEELAH.

Thy breeches torn behind ftand gaping wide;

This petticoat fhall fave thy dear backfide; Nor need I blush, although you feel it wet; Dermot, I vow, 'tis nothing else but sweat.

DERMOT.

At an old stubborn root I chanc'd to tug, When the dean threw me this tobacco plug: A longer ha'-p'orth never did I fee; "This, deareft Sheelah, thou fhalt share with me.

SHEELAH.

In at the pantry door this morn I flipt, And from the shelf a charming cruft I whipt;

* Dennis was out, and I got hither safe; And thou, my dear, fhalt have the bigger half.

*Sir Arthur's butler.
R 4

DERMOT.

DERMOT.

When you faw Tady at long-bullets play, You fat and lous'd him all the fun-fhine day. How could you, Sheelah, listen to his tales, Or crack fuch lice as his between your nails?

SHEELAH.

When you with Oonah ftood behind a ditch,

I peep'd, and faw you kifs the dirty bitch. Dermot, how could you touch those nasty

fluts!

I almost wish'd this fpud were in your guts.

DERMOT,

If Oonah once I kifs'd, forbear to chide; Her aunt's my goffip by my father's fide : But, if I ever touch her lips again,

May I be doom'd for life to weed in rain.

SHEELAH.

Dermot, I fwear, though Tady's locks could hold

Ten thousand lice, and ev'ry louse was gold,

Him on my lap you never more should fee; Or may Ilofe my weeding-knife---and thee.

DERMOT

DERMOT.

Oh! could I earn for thee, my lovely lafs, A pair of brogues to bear thee dry to mass! But fee, where Norahwith the fowins comes-Then let us rife, and reft our weary bums.

MARY the Cook-maid's Letter to Dr. SHERIDAN.

Written in the Year 1723.

WELL, if ever I faw

fuch another

man fince my mother bound my

head!

You a gentleman! marry come up, I wonder where you were bred.

I am fure fuch words do not become a man of your cloth;

I would not give fuch language to a dog, faith and troth.

Yes, you

call'd my mafter a knave: fie, Mr. Sheridan! 'tis a fhame

For a parfon, who fhou'd know better things, to come out with fuch a name : Knave in your teeth, Mr. Sheridan! 'tis both a fhame and a fin;

And the dean my mafter is an honester man than you and all your kin: