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With modesty her cheeks are dy’d,
THE LOGICI.A.N'S REFUTED,
IN IMITATION or DEAN S WIFT.
LoGICIANs have but ill defin'd,
Bring action for assault 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 go, 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 go To folks at Paternoster-row: No jugglers, fiddlers, dancing-masters, No pickpockets, or poetasters, Are known to honest quadrupedes; No single brute his fellow leads; Brutes never meet in bloody fray, Nor cut each other's throats for pay. Of beasts, it is confess'd, the ape Comes nearest us in human shape. Like man, he imitates each fashion, And malice is his ruling passion: But both in malice and grimaces, A courtier any ape surpasses. Behold him, humbly cringing, wait Upon the minister of state: View him soon after to inferiors Aping the conduct of superiors: He promises with equal air, And to perform takes equal care. He in his turn finds imitators; At court, the porters, lackeys, waiters,
*Sir Robert Walpole.
Their masters’ manners still contract, And footmen lords and dukes can act; Thus at the court, both great and small Behave alike—for all ape all.
..? WEW SIMILE,
IN THE MANNER of SWIFT.
Long had I sought in vain to find A likeness for the scribbling kind: The modern scribbling kind, who write In wit, and sense, and nature’s spite: Till reading (I forget what day on) A chapter out of Tooke's Pantheon, I think I met with something there, To suit my purpose to a hair; Butlet us not proceed too furious; First please to turn to god Mercurius: You’ll find him pictur'd at full length In book the second, page the tenth : The stress of all my proofs on him I lay, And now proceed we to our simile. Imprimis, pray observe his hat, Wings upon either side—mark that. Well! what is it from thence we gather? Why these denote a brain of feather. A brain of feather 2 very right, With wit that’s flighty, learning light; Such as to modern bards decreed; A just comparison—proceed. In the next place, his feet peruse, Wings grow again from both his shoes;
Design'd, no doubt, their part to bear,
80 AN Authon's hen-chann ER.
. In which all modern bards agree, ** Being each as great a thief as he o But e'en this deity's existence --Shall lend my simile assistance. o Our modern bards ! why what a pox Are they but senseless stones and blocks
AN AUTHOR'S BED-CHAMBER.
Whene the Red Lion, staring o'er the way,