For let folks only get a touch, Though ne'er so much awake before, That quickly they begin to snore. With this he drives men's souls to hell. Alike too both conduce to sleep. This diff'rence only, as the god With his goose-quill the scribbling elf Instead of others damns himself. And here my simile almost tript, Well! what of that? out with it-stealing; In which all modern bards agree, Being each as great a thief as he : Shall lend my simile assistance. Our modern bards! why what a pox Are they but senseless stones and blocks? AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG, GOOD people all, of ev'ry sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wond'rous short, In Islington there was a man, A kind and gentle heart he had, And in that town a dog was found, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. This dog and man at first were friends; But when a pique began, The dog, to gain his private ends, Around from all the neighb'ring streets And swore the dog had lost his wits, The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To ev'ry christian eye; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, The man recover'd of the bite, The dog it was that dy'd. THE CLOWN'S REPLY. JOHN TROTT was desir'd by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why asses had ears? "An't please you," quoth John, "I'm not given to letters, "Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters; "Howe'er, from this time, I shall ne'er see your graces, "As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on asses." EDINBURGH, 1753. |