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With salt box, pepper box, and kettle,
With all the culinary metal.
Be warn'd, ye fair, by Susan's crosses,
Keep chaste, and guard yourselves from losses ;
For if young girls delight in kissing,
No wonder, that the poker's missing.

Joyous to breakfast they sat round,
Nor were asham'd to eat a poumd.
These were the manners, these the ways,
In good queen Bess's golden days;
Each damsel ow'd her bloom and glee,
To wholesome elbow-grease, and me,
But now they centre all their joys
In empty rattle traps and noise.
Thus where the Fates send you, they send
Flagitious times, which ne'er will mend,
'Till some philosopher can find,
A scrubbing-brush to scour the mind.”

TAE TEA POT AND SCRUBBING

BRUSH.

FABLE V.

TIE DUELLIST.

FABLE VI.

a

ATAW DRY tea-pot, a-la-mode, Whereart her utmost skill bestow'd, Was much esteem'd for being old, And on its sides with red and gold Strange beasts were drawn, in taste Chinese, And frightful fish, and hump-back trees.

High in an elegant beaufet, This pompous utensil was set, And near it, on a marble slab, Forsaken by some careless drab, A veteran scrubbing-brush was plac'd, And the rich furniture disgrac'd. The tea-pot soon began to flout, And thus its venom spouted out: " Who from the scullery or yard, Brought in this low, this vile blackguard, And laid in insolent position, Among us people of condition ? Back to the helper in the stable, Scour the close-stool, or wash-house table; Or cleanse some horsing block, or plank, Nor dare approach us folks of rank. Turn-brother coffee pot, your spout, Observe the nasty stinking lout, Who seems to scorn my indignation, Nor pays due homage to my fashion; Take, silver sugar dish, a view, And, cousin cream put, pray do you." “ Pox on you all,” replies old Scrub, “Of coxcombs ye confederate club, Pull of impertinence, and prate, Ye hate all things that are sedate. None but such ignorant infernals, Judge, by appearance, and externals: Train'd up in toil and useful knowledge, I'm fellow of the kitchen college, And with the mop, my old associate, The family affairs negociate.Am foe to filth, and things obscene, Dirty hy making others clean. — Not shining, yet I cause to shine, My roughness makes my neighbours fine; You're fair without, but foul within, With shame impregnated, and sio; To you each impious scandal's owing, You set each gossip's clack a going.How Parson Tythe in secret sins, And how Miss Dainty brought forth twins: How dear delicious Polly Bloom, Oves all her sweetness to perfume; Though grave at church, and cards can bet, At once a prude and a coquette.'Twas better for each British virgin, When on roast beef, strong beer, and sturgeon,

What's honour, did your lordship say?
My lord, I humbly crave a day.--
'Tis difficult, and in my mind,
Like substance, cannot be defin'd.
It deals in numerous externals,
And is a legion of infernals ;
Sometimes in riot and in play,
Tis breaking of the Sabbath day:
When 'tis consider'd as a passion,
I deem it lust and fornication.
We pay our debts in honour's cause,
Lost in the breaking of the laws :
'Tis for some selfish impious ead,
To murder the sincerest friend;
But wou'd you alter all the clan,
Turn out an honourable man.
Why take a pistol from the shelf,
And fight a duel with yourself. -
"Twas on a time, the Lord knows when,
In Ely, or in Lincoln fen,
A frog and mouse had long disputes,
Held in the language of the brutes,
Who of a certain pool and pasture,
Shou'd be the sovereign and master,
“ Sir," says the frog, and damn’d his blood,
“I hold that my pretension's good;
Nor can a brute of reason doubt it,
For all that you can squeak about it."
The mouse, averse to be o'erpower'd,
Gave him the lie, and call'd him coward;
Too hard for any frog's digestion,
To have his froghood call'd in question !
A bargain instantly was made,
No mouse of honour could evade,
On the next morn, as soon as light,
With desperate bullrushes to fight;
The morning came--and man to man,
The grand monomachy began ;
Need I recount how each bravado,
Shone in montant and in passado;
To what a height their ire they carry'd,
How oft they thrusted and they parry'd;
But as these champions kept dispensing,
Finesses in the art of fencing,
A furious vulture took upon her,
Quick to decide this point of honour,
And, lawyer like, to make an end on't,
Devour'd both plaintiff and defendant,
Thus, often in our British nation,
(I speak by way of application)

The lime tree and sweet-scented bay,

Which certain bee, if rightly known, (The sole reward of many a lay)

Wou'd prove no better than a drone; And all the poets of the wing,

There are (but I shall name no names, Who sweetly without salary sing,

I never love to kindle flames) Attract at once his observation,

A pack of rogues with crimes grown callous, Peopling thy wilds, Imagination!

Who greatly wou'd adorn the gallows; “ Sweet Nature, who this turf bedews,

That with the wasps, for paltry gold, Sweet Nature, who's the thrush's Muse!

A secret correspondence hold, How she each anxious thought beguiles,

Yet you'll be great-your subjects free, And meets me with ten thousand smiles!

If the whole thing be left to me." O infinite benignity!

Thus, like the waters of the ocean, She smiles, but not alone on me;

His tongue had run in ceaseless motion, On hill, on dale, on lake, on lawn,

Had not the queen ta'en up in wrath, Like Celia when her picture's drawn;

This thing of folly and of froth. Assuming countless charms and airs,

“ Impertinent and witless meddler, "Till Hayman's matchless art despairs,

Thou smattering, empty, noisy pedler ! Pausing like me he dreads to fall

By vanity, thou bladder blown, From the divine original.”

To be the football of the town. More had he said—but in there came

O happy England, land of freedom, A lout-Squire Booby was bis name.

Replete with statesmen, if she need 'em, The bard, who at a distant view

Where war is way'd by Sue or Nell, The busy prattling blockhead knew,

And Jobson is a Machiavel! Retir'd into a secret nook,

Tell Hardwick that his judgment fails, And thence his observations took,

Show Justice how to hold her scales.Vex'd he cou'd find no manto tea“,

To fire the suul at once, and please, The squire’gan chattering to the bees,

Teach Murray and Demosthenes ; And pertly with officious mien,

Say Vane is not by goodness grac'd, He thus address'd their bumming queen :

And wants humanity and taste.“ Madam, be not in any terrours;

Thu' Pelham with Mæcenas vies, I only come t'amend your errours ;

Tell Fame she's false, and Truth she lies ; My friendship briefly to display,

And then return, thou verbal Hector, And put you in a better way.

And give the bees another lecture.” Cease, madam, (if I may advise)

This said, the portal she unbarr'd, To carry honey on your thighs,

Calling the bees upon their guard, Employ ('tis better, I aver)

And set at once about his ears Old Grub, the fairies' coach-maker;

Ten thousand of her grenadiers.-For he who has sufficient art

Some on his lips and palate hung, To make a coach, may make a cart.

And the offending member stung. To these you'll yoke some sixteen bees,

“ Just” (says the bard from out the grot) Who will dispatch your work with ease ;

“ Just, though severe, is your sad lot, And come and go,

and
go
and come,

Who think, and talk, and live in vain,
To bring yonr honey harvest home.-

Of sweet society the bane. Ma'am, architecture you're not shill'd in,

Business misplac'd is a mere jest,
I don't approve your way of building;

And active idleness at best.”
In this there's nothing like design,
Pray learn the use of Gunter's line.
I'll serve your highness at a pinch,
I am a scholar every inch,

THE CITIZEN AND THE RED LION And know each author Ilay fist on,

OF BRENTFORD.
From Archimedes down to Wbiston.
Though honey making be your trade,

FABLE XI.
In chemistry you want some aid.-
Pleas'd with your work, altho' you sing,

I love my friend—but love my ease,
You're not quite right-'tis not the thing. And claim a right myself to please ;
Myself wou'd gladly be an actor,

To company however prone, To help the honey manufacture.-

At times all men wou'd be alone. I hear for war you are preparing,

Free from each interruption rude, Which I should like to have a sbare in :

Or what is meant by solitude. Yet though the enemy be landing,

My villa lies within the bills, 'Tis wrong to keep an army standing.-

So- like a theatre it fills : If you'll ensure me from ibe laws,

To me my kind acquaintance stray, I'll write a pamphlet in your cause.

And Sunday proves no sabbath day; I vow, I am concern'd to see

Yet many a friend and near relation, Your want of state-economy.

Make up a glorious congregation ; Of nothing living I propounce ill,

They crowd by dozens and by dozens, But I don't like your privy-council.

And bring me all their country cousins. There is, I know, a certain bee,

Though cringing landlords on the road, (Wou'd he was from the ministry)

Whu find for man and horse abode;

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65 Though gilded grapes to sign-post chain'd, The lion thank'd him for his proffer, Invite them to be entertain'd,

And if a vacancy shou'd offer, And straddling cross his kilderkin,

Declar'd he had too just a notion, Though jolly Bacchus calls them in ;

To be averse to such promotion. Nas-though my landlady wou'd trust 'em, The citizeu drove off with joy, Pilgarlic's sure of all the custom ;

“ For London-Ball-for London-hoy." And his whole house is like a fair,

Content to bed he went his way,
Unless he only treats with air.

And is no bankrupt to this day.
What? shall each pert half witted wit,
That calls me Jack, or calls me Kit,
Prey on my time, or op my table?
No-but let's hasten to the fable.

THE HERALD AND HUSBAND-MAN. The eve advanc'd, the Sun decliud,

FABLE XII.
Ball to the booby-hutch was join'd,
A wealthy cockney drove away,

Nobilitas sula est atque unica virtus. To celebrate Saint Saturday;

JUVENAL. Wife, daughter, pug, all crouded in,

I To meet at conintry house their kin.

with friend Juvenal agree, Thro' Brentford, to fair Twickenham's bow'rs,

Virtue's the true nobility; The un greas'd grumbling axle scow'rs,

Has of herself sufficient charms, To pass in rural sweels a day,

Altho' without a coat of arms. Bat there's a lion in the way :

Honestus does not know the rules, This lion a most furious elf,

Concerning Or and Fez, and Gules, Hung up to represent himself,

Yet sets the wond'ring eye to gaze on, Redden'd with rage, and shook bis mane, Such deeds no herald e'er could blaze on, And roar'd, and roard, and roar'd again.

Tawdry achievements out of place, Wond'rous, tho' painted on a board,

Do but augment a fool's disgrace ; He mard, and roard, and roar'd, and roar'd. A coward is a double jest, " Fool!" (says the majesty of beasts)

Who has a lion for his crest; " At whose expense a legion feasts,

And things are come to such a pass, Fre to yourself, you those pursue,

Two horses may support an ass; Who're eating up your cakes and you;

And on a gamester or buffoon, Walk in, walk in, (so prudence votes)

A moral mottu's a lampoon. And gire poor Ball a feed of oats,

An honest rustic having done Look to yourself, and as for ma'm,

His master's work 'wixt sun and sun, Coax her to take a little dram;

Retir'd to dress a little spot, Let Miss and Pug with cakes be fed,

Adjoining to his homely cot,
Then, honest man, go back to bed ;

Where pl as'd, io miniature, he found
You're better, and you're cheaper there, His landlord's culniary ground,
Where are no hangers on to fear.

Some herbs that feed, and some that heal,
Go buy friend Newbery's new Panthcon,

The winter's medicine or meal. And con the tale of poor Acteon,

The sage, which in his garden seen, Hom'd by Dana, and o'erpower'd,

No man need ever die ' I wecn; And by the dogs he fed devour'd.

The marjoram comely to behold, What be receiv'd froin charity,

With thyme, and ruddiest marygold, Lewdness perhaps may give to thee;

And mint and pennyroyal sweet, And tho' your spousc my lecture scorns,

To deck the cottage windows meet, Beware his fate, beware his horns."

And baum, that yields a finer juice "Sir," says the Cit, (who made a stand, Than all that China can produce; And struk'd his forehead with his band)

With carrots red, and turnips white, " By your grim gravity and grace,

And leeks, Cadwallader's delight; You greatly wou'd become the mace.

And all the savory crop that vie This kind advice I gladly take,

To please the palate and the eye. Dram's, bring the dram, and bring a cake, Thus, as intent, he did survey With good brown beer that's brisk and humming.” His plot, a Herald came that way, " A coming, sir! a coming, coming!

A man of great escutcheon'd knowledge, The Cit then took a hearty draught,

And member of the motley college. And shook his jolly sides and laugh'd.

Heedless the peasant pass'd he by, Then to the king of beasts he bow'd,

Indulging this soliloquy; And thus his gratitnde arow'd.

“Ye gods! what an enormons space, Sir, for your sapient oration,

'Twixt man and man does Nature place; I owe the greatest obligation.

While some by deels of honour rise, You stand expos’d to sun, and show'r,

To such a height, as far out-vies I know Jack Ellis of the Tow'r;

The visible diurnal sphere; By bim you soon may gain renown,

While others, like this rustic here, He'll show your highness to the town;

Grope in the groveling ground content, you chuse your station here,

Without or lineage or descent,
Tocall forth Britons to their beer,
As painter of distinguish'd note,

Cur moriatur homo, cui salvia crescit in
He'll send his man to clean your coat,'s

horto?

a

a

Or, if

1

VOL. XVI.

F

Hail, Heraldry! mysterious art,

Thou to thy doom, old boy, art fated, Bright patroness of all desert,

To morrow-and thou shalt be baited.” Mankind would on a level lie,

The deed was done-curse on the wrong! And undistinguish'd live and die;

Bloody description, hold thy tongue. Depriv'd of thy illustrious aid,

Victorious yet the bull return'd, Such! so momentous is our trade."

And with stern silence inly moum'd. “Sir,” says the clown, “why sure you joke,” A vet'ran, brave, majestic cock, (And kept on digging as he spoke)

Who serv'd for hour glass, guard, and clock, “ And prate not to extort conviction,

Who crow'd the mansion's first relief, But merrily by way of fiction.

Alike from goblin and from thief; Say, do your manuscripts attest,

Whose youth escap'd the Christmas skillet, What was old father Adam's crest;

Whose vigour brav'd the Shrovetide billet, Did he a nobler coat receive

Had just return'd in wounds and pain, In right of marrying Mrs. Eve;

Triumphant from the barbarous train.Or had supporters when he kiss'd her,

By riv'let's brink, with trees o'ergrown, On dexter side, and side sinister;

He heard bis fellow sufferer's moan; Or was his motto, prithee speak,

And greatly scorning wounds and smart, English, French, Latin, Welch, or Greek ; Gave him three cheers with all his heart. Or was he not, without a lye,

“ Rise, neighbour, from that pensive attitude, Just such a nobleman as I?

Brave witness of vile man's ingratitude; Virtue, which great defects can stifle,

And let us both with spur and horn, May beam distinction on a trifle;

The cruel reasoning monster scorn. And honour, with her native charms,

Methinks at every dawn of day, May beautify a coat of arms;

When first I chant my blithsome lay, Realities somewhat will thrive,

Methinks I hear from out the sky,
E'en by appearance kept alive;

All will be better by and by;
But by themselves, Gules, Or, and Fez, When bloody, base, degenerate man,
Are cyphers neither more or less :

Who deviates from his Maker's plan ;
Keep both thy head and hands from crimes, Who Nature and her works abuses,
Be honest in the worst of times:

And thus bis fellow servants uses, Health's on my countenance impress'd,

Shall greatly, and yet justly want, And sweet content's my daily guest,

The mercy he refus'd to grant; My fame alone I build on this,

And (while his heart his conscience purges) And Garter King at Arms may kiss.”

Shall wish to be the brute he scourges."

A STORY OF A COCK AND A BULL. THE SNAKE, THE GOOSE, AND

NIGHTINGALE.
FABLE XIII.

HUMBLY ADDRESSED TO THE HISSERS AND CATES—We excell in arts and arms,

CALLERS ATTENDING BOTH HOUSES.
In learning's lore and beauty's charms.
The seas wide empire we engross,

FABLE XIV.
All nations hail the British cross;
The land of liberty we tread,

When ruld by truth and nature's ways,
And woe to his devoted head,

When just to blame, yet fix'd to praise, Who dares the contrary advance,

As votary of the Delphic god,
One Englishmau's worth tien of France.

I reverence the critic's rod;
These these are truths, what man won't write for, But when inflam'd with spite alone,
Won't swear, won't bully, or won't fight for;

I hold all critics but as one;
Yet (tho' perhaps I speak thro' vanity)

For though they class themselves with art, Wou'd we'd a little inore humanity;

And each man takes a different part; Too far, I fear, I've drove the jest,

Yet whatsoe'er they praise and blame; So leave to cock and bull the rest.

They in their motives are the same, A bull, who'd listen'd to the vows

Porth as she waddled in the brake, Of above fifteen hundred cows;

A grey goose stumbled on a snake, And serv'd his master fresh and fresh,

And took th'occasion to abuse her, With hecatombs of special flesh,

And of rank plagiarism accuse her. Like to an hermit or a dervise,

“ 'Twas I," quoth she, “in every vale, (Grown old and feeble in the service)

First hiss'd the noisy nightingale ; Now left the meadow's green parade,

And boldly cavill'd at each note, And sought a solitary shade.

"That twitter'd in the woodlark's throat: The cows proclaim'd in mournful-lowing, I, who sublime and more than mortal, The bull's deficiency in wooing,

Must stoop to enter at the portal, And to their disappointed master,

Have ever been the first to show All told the terrible disaster.

My hate to every thing that's lɔw; “ Is this the case” (quoth Hodge) “O rare! While thou, mean mimic of my manner, But hold, to morrow is the fair.

(Without inlisting to my banner)

67

THE BAG-WIG AND THE TOBACCO.

PIPE.

Dar'st in thy grov'ling situation,
To counterfeit my sibilation."

The snake enrag'd, reply'd, "Know, madam,
I date my charter down from Adam;
Nor can , since I bear the bell,
Eerimitate where I excell.
Had any other creature dar'd
Once to aver, what you've averråd,
I might have been more fierce and fervent,
But you're a goose,—and so your servant.”
“ Truce with your folly and your pride,”
The warbling Philomela cry'd;
"Since no more animals we find
İn nature of the hissing kind,
You should be friends with one another,
Nay, kind as brother is to brother.
Por know, thou pattern of abuse,
Thou snake art but a crawling goose;.
And thou dall dabbler in each lake,
Art nothing but a feather'd snake."

MRS. ABIGAIL AND THE DUMB

WAITER.

FABLE XV.

WITH frowning brow, and aspect low'ring,
As Abigail one day was scow'ring,
From chair to chair she past along,
Without soliloquy or song;
Content, in humdrum mood, t'adjust
Her matters to disperse the dust.-
Tbus plodded on the sullen fair,
Till a dumb-waiter claim'd her care;
She then in rage, with shrill salute,
Bespoke the inoffensive mute: -
“ Thou stupid tool of vapoarish asses,
With thy brown shelves for pots and glasses ;
Thoa foreign whirligig, for whom
Us honest folks must quit the room
And, like young misses at a christning,
Are forc'd to be content with listning;
Though thou'rt a fav’rite of my master's,
'll set thee gadding on thy castors."
This said with many a rough attack,
She scrubb'd him 'till she made him crack;
Insulted stronger still and stronger,
The poor dumb thing could hold no longer
“Thou drab, born mops and brooms to datidle,
Thou baberdasher of small scandal,
Factor of family abuse,
Retailer of domestic news;
My lord, as soon as I appear,
Confines thee in thy proper sphere;
01 else, at er'ry place of call,
The chandler's shop, or cobler's stall,
Or ale-house, where (for petty tales,
Gin, beer, and ale are constant vails)
Fach word at table that was spoke,
Wou'd soori become the public joke,
And cheerful innocent converse,
To scandal warp'd-or something worse.
Whene'er my master I attend,
Preely his mind he can unbend ;-
But when such praters fill my place,
Then nothing should be said-but grace."

FABLE XVI.
A BAG-WIG of a jauntee air.
Trick'd up with all a barber's care,
Loaded with powder and perfume,
Húng in a spendthrift's dressing-room:
Close by its side, by chance convey'd,
A black tobacco-pipe was laid ;
And with its vapours far and near,
Outstunk the essence of Monsieur ;
At which its rage, the thing of hair,
Thus, bristling up, began declare.

" Bak'd dirt! that with intrusion rude
Break’st in upon my solitude,
And whose offensive breath defiles
The air for forty thousand miles
Avaunt-pollution's in thy touch-
O barb'rous Englishman! horrid Dutch!
I cannot bear it-Here, Sue, Nan,
Go call the maid to call the man,
And bid him come without delay,
To take this odious pipe away.
Hideous! sure some one smok'd thee, friend,
Reversely, at his t'other end.
Oh! what mix'd odours! what a throng
Of salt and sour, of stale and strong!
A most unnatural combination,
Enough to mar all perspiration
Monstrous ! againtwou'd vex a saint !
Susan, the drops or else I faint !”
The pipe (for 'twas a pipe of soul)
Raising himself upon his bole,
In smoke, like oracle of old,,
Did thus his sentiments unfold..

“Why, what's the matter, Goodman Swagget,
Thou flaunting French, fantastic bragger?
Whose whole fine speech is (with a pox)
Ridiculous and heterodox.
'Twas better for the English nation
Before such scoundrels came in fashion,
When none sought hair in realms unknown,
But every blockhead bore his own.
Know, puppy, I'm an English pipe,
Deem'd worthy of each Briton's gripe,
Who, with my cloud-compelling aid,
Help our plantations and our trade,
And am, when sober and when mellow,
An upright, downright, honest fellow.
Though fools, like you, may think me rough,
And scorn me, 'cause I am in buff,
Yet your contempt I glad receive,
'Tis all the fame that you can give:
None finery or fopp'ry prize,
But they who've something to disguise;
For simple nature hates abuse,
And plainness is the dress of Use.”

CARE AND GENEROSITY

FABLE XVII.
Old Care, with industry and art,
At length so well had play'd his part;
He heap'd up such an ample store,
That av'rice could not sigh for more:

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