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ONE THOUSAND

SEVEN HUNDRED

A N D

THIRTY EIGHT.

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ONE THOUSAND

SEVEN HUNDRED

AND

THIRTY EIGHT.

DIALOGUE I.

Fr.

TOT twice a twelvemonth you appear in Print,

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You grow correct, that once with Rapture writ,
And are, besides, too Moral for a Wit.
Decay of Parts, alas! we all must feel

5 Why now, this moment, don't I see you steal ? 'Tis all from Horace; Horace long before

ye, Said, Tories call'd him Whig, and Whigs a Tory; And taught his Romans, in much better metre, To laugh at Fools who put their trust in Peter.

But Horace, Sir, was delicate, was nice ; Bubo observes, he lah'd no fort of Vice;

Horace

A 2

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