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ON A SPANIEL, CALLED BEAO.
Let my obedience then excuse
My disobedience now,
From your aggriev'd Bow-wow;
(Which I can hardly see,) What think you, Sir, of killing Time
With verse address'd to me?
FROM A LETTER TO THE REV. MR.
Late Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth.
[Dated May 28, 1782.,
Says the pipe to the snuff-box, I can't under.
stand, What the ladies and gentlemen see in your
That you are in fashion all over the land,
And I am so much fallen into disgrace. Do but see what a pretty contemplative air
I give to the company-pray do but note 'emYou would think that the wise men of Greece
were all there, Or, at least would suppose them the wise men
of Gotham. My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown
roses, While you are a nuisance where'er you appear;
8 FROM A LETTER TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON. There is nothing but sniv’ling and blowing of
noses, Such a noise as turns any man s stomach to
Then lifting his lid in a delicate way,
What a silly dispute is this we are waging ! If you have a little of merit to claim, You may think the sweet-smelling Virginian
weed, And I, if I scem to deserve any blame,
The before-mentioned drug in apology plead.
Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our
own, No room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus, We are vehicles, not of tobacco alone,
But of any thing else they may choose to put
(Azlumn of 1793.)
The twentieth year is well nigh past
Thy needles, once a shining store,
For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
But well thou play'dst the housewife's part,
Thy indistinct expressions seem
Thy silver locks once auburn bright,
For could I view nor them nor thee,
Partakers of thy sad decline,
Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st,