While all their hours were pass'd between
Insulting repartee and spleen.

60

Thus, as her faults each day were known,2
He thinks her features coarser grown;
He fancies every vice she shows,

Or thins her lip, or points her nose:
Whenever rage or envy rise,

65

How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes!
He knows not how, but so it is,

Her face is grown a knowing phiz;

And though her fops are wondrous civil,
He thinks her ugly as the devil.

70

3

Now, to perplex the ravell'd noose,
As each a different way pursues,
While sullen or loquacious strife
Promised to hold them on for life,
That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower,—
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare
Levell❜d its terrors at the fair;

And, rifling every youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.

The glass, grown hateful to her sight,
Reflected now a perfect fright:
Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes;

1 After this line, followed in the first edition :

She, in her turn, became perplexing,
And found substantial bliss in vexing.

Thus every hour was pass'd, &c.

75

80

2 Var.-Each day, the more her faults were known.-First edition. 3 Thus to perplex, &c.-First edition.

In vain she tries her paste and creams,
To smooth her skin, or hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens;
The 'squire himself was seen to yield,
And ev❜n the captain quit the field.

Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack

The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzl'd to behold
Her present face surpass the old :
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;
For tawdry finery is seen
A person ever neatly clean;
No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good nature every day :
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,
Jack finds his wife-a perfect beauty.

85

90

95

100

A NEW SIMILE

IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT.

[1765, or earlier. See Introduction to 'The Double Transformation,'

p. 84.]

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,2
I think I met with something there
To suit my purpose to a hair.

1 Var.-I long had rack'd my brains to find.-First edition.

2 The Rev. Andrew Tooke's Pantheon,' a popular illustrated mytho

logy of the time.—ED.

5

But let us not proceed too furious ;-
First please to turn to god Mercurius :
You'll find him pictured at full length,
In book the second, page the tenth :
The stress of all my proofs on him I lie,
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! very right,

With wit that's flighty, learning light;
Such as to modern bard's 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,
And waft his godship through the air:
And here my simile unites;
For in a modern poet's flights,
I'm sure it may be justly said,
His feet are useful as his head.

Lastly, vouchsafe t'observe his hand,
Fill'd with a snake-encircled wand,
By classic authors term'd caduceus,
And highly famed for several uses:
To wit, most wond'rously endued,
No poppy water half so good;
For let folks only get a touch,
Its soporific virtue's such,

10

15

20

25

30.

35

Moreover Merc'ry had a failing:

Well! what of that? out with it-stealing;

In which all modern bards agree,1

Being each as great a thief as he.

60

But ev'n this deity's existence

Shall lend my simile assistance:

Our modern bards! why, what a pox
Are they but senseless stones and blocks?

* J. B.2

AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.

[This burlesque elegy is supposed to have been first printed in the Vicar of Wakefield (chap. xvii.), 1766; though probably it was written about the time of the popular scare concerning mad dogs (1760), which Goldsmith has otherwise immortalized in his Citizen of the World,' letter lxix. Mr. Croker has pointed out that this and the similarly constructed Elegy on Mrs. Mary Blaize' (p. 81), are close imitations of the popular French song 'Le fameux La Galisse, homme imaginaire.'-ED.]

Good people all, of every sort,

Give ear unto my song,

And if you find it wond'rous short,-
It cannot hold you long.

1 Var.-In which our scribbling bards agree.-First edition.

2 The poem in both editions of the Essays' has this signature. Evans dropped it out; and Percy, and the rest, have followed Evans; but, as a possible clue to the original publication, we now restore it. Perhaps "J. B." stands for " Jack Book-worm," the name of the hero of The Double Transformation,' which appeared with this poem in the 'Essays.'-ED.

In Isling town there was a man,

Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran,—

Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,

To comfort friends and foes: The naked every day he clad,

When he put on his clothes.

5

10

And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,

Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,
And curs of low degree.

15