N trifling works of Fancy, wits agree,
That nothing tickles like a fimile:
And fo, by way of tuning you to laughter,
With which, I hope, you'll tickle us hereafter,
From our poetic ftorehoufe, we produce
A couple, fpick and fpan for present use.
Dramatick writers were, like watchmen, meant
To knock down Vice few anfwer the intent ;
Both fhould be quick to fee and seize their
But both are fometimes blind, and fometimes lame :
Can thofe cry ftand, while they themselves are reeling?
Can thofe catch thieves, while they themselves are ftealing?
When wanted moft, the watch a nap will take-
Are all our comick authors quite awake?
Or, what is worse, by which they ftill come near 'em,
Are not you more than half afleep who hear 'em?
I, your old watchman, here have fix'd my ftand,
On many a vice and folly laid my hand
'Twas you cried watch! I limp'd at your command.
Let me, like other watchmen, bless the times,
And take the privilege to nod betimes;
Nor let your frowns now force me on a fright
To cry" Paft feven o'clock, and a cloudy night."
But, with your patience not to be too free,
We'll change the subject and the fimile.
To chafe a fmuggling crew, who law deride,
We launch a cutter of three guns this tide:
With your affiftance, we will make the foe
Sink, or fubmit to CAPTAIN TIMBERTOE.
Ye pirate criticks, fall not foul on me!
If once I fink, I founder in the fea.
In this condition, can I swim to fhore?
I'm cork'd, 'tis true; but then I want an oar.
You oft have fav'd my little bark from finking;
I am no fish, fave me from water-drinking!