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And fo it fell out, for that negligent floven,
Had fhut out the pasty on shutting his oven.
Sad Philomel thus--but let similes drop-
And now that I think on't, the story may stop.
To be plain, my good lord, it's but labour misplac'd,
To fend fuch good verses to one of your taste;
You've got an odd fomething- -a kind of dil-
cerning-

A relish-a tafte-ficken'd over by learning;
At least, it's your temper, as very well known,
That you think very slightly of all that's your

own:

So, perhaps, in your habits of thinking amifs, You may make a mistake, and think slightly of this.

THE CLOWN's REPLY.

JOHN

OHN TROT was defired by two witty Peers To tell them the reason why affes had ears? "An't please you, "quoth John, "I'm not giv'n to letters,

Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters; Howe'er from this time I fhall ne'er fee your graces, As I hope to be fav'd! without thinking on affes."

Edinburgh, 1753

EPITAPH

ON

EDWARD PURDON..ti

HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,

Who long was a bookseller's hack;

He led fuch a damnable life in this world,-
I don't think, he'll wifh to come back..

+ This gentleman was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; but having wasted his patrimony, he enlisted as a foot foldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a fcribbler in the newspapers. He tranflated Voltaire's Henriade.

M 2

AN ELEGY

ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX,

MRS. MARY BLAIŻE,

GOOD

people all, with one accord, Lament for madam Blaize,

Who never wanted a good word—
From those who spoke her praise.

The needy feldom paffed her door,

And always found her kind; She freely lent to all the poorWho left a pledge behind.

She ftrove the neighbourhood to please,
With manners wond'rous winning;
And never follow'd wicked ways-
Unless when she was finning.

At church, in filks and fatins new,
With hoop of monftrous fize;
She never flumber'd in her pew-
But when she shut her eyes.

Her

Her love was fought, I do aver,
By twenty beauxs and more;
The king himself has follow'd her-
When she has walk'd before.

But now her wealth and finery fled,
Her hangers-on cut short all; }
The doctors found, when he was dead-
Her laft disorder mortal,

Let us lament, in forrow fore,
For Kent-street well may fay,

That had fhe liv'd a twelve-month more-
She had not dy'd to day.

THE

LOGICIANS REFUTED.

IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT*.

LOGICIA

OGICIANS have but ill defin'd
As rational the human mind:
Reason, they say, belongs to man,
But let them prove it if they can.
Wife Ariftotle and Smiglefius,

By Ratiocinations fpecious,
Have ftrove to prove with great precifion,
With definition and divifion,

Homo eft natione preditum ;
But for
my foul I cannot credit 'em;
And must in spite of them maintain,
That man and all his ways are vain ;
And that this boafted lord of nature,
Is both a weak and erring creature.

That

* This Imitation having originally been adopted by Mr. Faulkner as a genuine Poem by Swift, it has been reprinted in every fubfequent edition of the Dean's Poems; and was not difcovered till it was too late to take it out of the prefent edition.

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