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He was the only person of his time,
Retain his primeval meanNESS
Oh indignant reader!
To give to after ages
In the sight of GOD,
Joannes jacet bic Mirandula -Catera norunt
Applied to FRANCIS CHARTRES.
The rest God knows—perhaps the devil.
* E P. IGRA
PETER complains that God has given
To his poor babe a life fo short : Confider, Peter, he's in heaven ;
'Tis good to have a friend at court.
* A N O T H E R.
You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come ; Knock as you please, there's no body at home.
Ε Ρ Ι. | See vol, iv. p. 7.
* E PITA' P H. WELI
ELL then, poor G-lies ander ground !
So there's an end of honeft Jack. So little justice here he found,
'Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back.
* EPIGRAM, on the toasts of the Kit-kat club.
WHENCE deathless kit-kat took its name,
Few critics can unriddle;
And some from cat and fiddle.
Grey statesmen, or green wits ;
Of old cats and young kits.
* To a LADY, with the Temple of Fame. WHAT's fame with men, by custom of the nation
Is call'd in women only reputation :
with one, and I'll renounce the other.
* Verses to be placed under the picture of
ENGLAND's Arch-Poet; containing a complete catalogue of his works. SEE EE who ne'er was nor will be half read!
Who first fung Arthur †, then fung Alfred I; Prais'd
Eliza || in God's anger,
of Two heroic poems in folio, twenty books. * Heroic poems in twelve books.
Heroic poems in folio, ten books.
Made William's virtues wipe the bare a
What punishment all this most follow?
* Instructions to Vanderbank, a tapestry weaver. † Hymn to the light. # Satire against wit. I of the nature of man. ** Creation, a poem, in seven books. # The Redeemer, another heroic poem, in six books. #1 Translation of all the Psalms. i Canticles and Ecclesiastes. *** Paraphrafe of the canticles of Moses and Deborah, &c. Ht The Lamentations. ## The whole book of Job, a poem, in folio.
Shall William dub his better end *?
writing the DUNCIAD.
But not to reach the ear ;
The Dean too deaf to hear.
A while they on each other look,
Then diff'rent studies chuse; The Dean fits plodding on a book,
Pope walks, and courts the muse.
Now backs of letters, tho' design'd
For those who more will need em, Are fill'd with hints, and interlin'd,
Himself can hardly read 'em.
Thus, Pope t, in vain you boast your wit ;
For, had our deaf divine
* Kick him on the breech, not knight him on the shoulder.
+ A polite turn is given to this incident by Mr. Pope, in his letter to Dr Sheridan, iu vol. iv. let. 127. p. 200,
Been for your conversation fit,
You had not writ a line.
Of prelate thus for preaching fam'd
The sexton reason'd well;
Because he rang the bell.
An epistle from a dog at Twickenham to a
dog at court.
Who, 'tho' no spaniel, am a friend.
5 To hurt your lady-lap dog-ship : Yet thence to think I'd bite
head off! Sure Bounce is one you never read of.
Fop! you can dance, and make a leg, Can fetch and carry, cringe and beg,
10 And (what's the top of all your tricks) Can stoop to pick up strings and sticks. We country-dogs love nobler sport, And scorn the pranks of dogs at court. Fie, naughty Fop ! where e'er you come, 15 To fart and piss aboat the room, To lay your head in ev'ry lap, And, when they think not of you-snap! The worst that envy or that spite E'er faid of me, is, I can bite ;
20 That idle gypsies, rogues in rags, Who poke at me, can make no brags ; And that to towze such things as flutter, To honeft Bounce is bread and butter.