A NEW SIMILE. 127 For let folks only get a touch, Its soporific virtue's such, Though ne'er so much awake before, Add too, what certain writers tell, An equal semblance still to keep, Alike too both conduce to sleep. This diff'rence only, as the god And here my simile almost tript, Moreover, Merc'ry had a failing; Well! what of that? out with it-stealing: 128 A NEW SIMILE. In which all modern bards agree, Being each as great a thief as he : Shall lend my simile assistance. Are they but senseless stones or blocks? DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S BED-CHAMBER. WHERE the Red Lion, staring o'er the way, There in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug, The muse found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug; That dimly show'd the state in which he lay; The seasons, fram'd with listing, found a place, And brave prince William show'd his lamp-black face: The morn was cold, he views with keen desire With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd, THE CLOWN'S REPLY. JOHN TROTT was desir'd by two witty peers, "An't please you," quoth John, "I'm not given to letters, betters; Nor dare I pretend to know more than my As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on asses.” |