There, and there only should commence
The path to knowledge, wit and sense,
For there the young ingenious mind,
The road to excellence will find,
And in the flowery walks of science,
May bid disgraceful birch defiance;
But who, a novice there, aspires,

Must work his way through thorns and briars,
And when the craggy steeps are past,
May skulk a useless drone at last;
Nay, though he get A. B. at College,
Be stopt of his degree in knowledge.

Then cultivate your native soil,
The harvest will repay your toil;
And be it every parent's care,

To plant the seeds of goodness there.

The petty ambition of pretending to superior skill, in other languages, seems pleasantly and aptly ridiculed in the following anecdote :

One of our modern modishly-bred ladies, boasting of her proficiency in the FRENCH tongue, asserted she understood and spoke it better than she did English; and for the truth, appealed to a French lady in company. The adroit Parisian very candidly and sensibly replied, "I am not, my dear "madam, sufficiently acquainted with the English language "to determine; but I should be ashamed and sorry to say, "I spoke any language half so well as my own!"

From A Collection of Poems, by Samuel Whyte, Dublin, 1792.

Born 1608.

ARODIES of Milton's Poems are neither numerous, nor particularly amusing; the best known, and most admired, is undoubtedly "The Splendid Shilling," written (in blank verse) about 1700, by John Philips. A biography of this author is included in Dr. Johnson's "Lives of the Poets." He was born at Bampton in Oxfordshire, on December 30, 1676. Being of a delicate constitution his chief amusement was reading, and as Milton was his favorite author, he chose his style for a parody, whilst he found a subject in the character of an impecunious college friend, who knew not how to keep a shilling in his pocket. "The Splendid Shilling" has one great charm, rare in such works, it is a burlesque in which nobody is ridiculed. John Philips died on February 15, 1708, and was buried in Hereford Cathedral. There is a tablet to his memory in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey, which chronicles

But with his Friends, when nightly Mifts arife,
To Juniper's, or Magpye, or Town-Hall* repairs;
Where mindful of the Nymph, whose wanton Eye,
Transfix'd his Soul, and kindled Amorous flames,.
Chloe or Phillis; he each Circling Glass
Wifheth her Health, and Joy, and equal Love.
Mean while he Smoaks, and Laughs at Merry Tale,
Or Pun ambiguous, or Conundrum quaint.
But I whom griping Penury furrounds,
And Hunger, fure Attendant upon Want,
With fcanty Offals, and fmall acid Tiff
(Wretched Repast) my meagre Corps sustain:
Then Solitary walk, or doze at home
In Garret vile, and with a warming puff
Regale chill'd Fingers, or from Tube as black
As Winter's Chimney, or well-polifh'd Jett,
Exhale Mundungus, ill-perfuming Smoak.
Not blacker Tube, nor of a fhorter Size
Smoaks Cambro-Britain (vers'd in Pedigree,
Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur, ancient Kings,
Full famous in Romantick tale) when he
O're many a craggy Hill, and fruitlefs Cliff,
Upon a Cargo of fam'd Ceftrian Cheese,
High over-fhadowing rides, with a defign
To vend his Wares, or at the Arvonian Mart,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient Town
Hight Morgannumia, or where Vaga's Stream
Encircles Ariconium, fruithful Soil,

Whence flow Nectareous Wines, that well may vye
With Maffic, Setian, or Renown'd Falern.
Thus while my joylefs Hours I lingring spend,
With Looks demure, and filent pace a Dunn,
Horrible Monfter! hated by Gods and Men,
To my aerial Citadel ascends;

With Vocal Heel thrice Thund'ring at my Gates,
With hideous Accent thrice he calls; I know
The Voice ill boding, and the solemn Sound;
What should I do, or whither turn? amaz'd
Confounded, to the dark recess I fly

Of Woodhole; ftreight my briftling Hairs erect
My Tongue forgets her Faculty of Speech,
So horrible he seems; his faded Brow
Entrench'd with many a Frown, and conic Beard,
And fpreading Band admir'd by Modern Saint
Difaftrous acts forebode; in his Right hand
Long Scrolls of Paper folemnly he waves,
With Characters and Figures dire infcribed
Grievous to mortal Eye, (ye Gods avert

Such plagues from righteous men) behind him ftalks
Another Monfter, not unlike himfelf,

Of Afpect fullen, by the Vulgar called

A Catchpole, whofe polluted hands the Gods
With Force incredible, and Magic Charms
Erft have indu'd, if he his ample Palm
Should haply on ill-fated Shoulder lay
Of Debtor, ftreight his Body to the touch
Obfequious (as Whilom Knights were wont)
To fome enchanted Caftle is convey'd,

Where Gates impregnable, and coercive Charms
In durance vile detain him, till in form
Of Money, Pallas fet the Captive free.
Beware, ye Debtors, when ye walk, beware,
Be circumfpect; oft with infidious Ken,
This Caitiff eyes your fteps aloof, and oft
Lies perdue in a Creek or gloomy Cave,
Prompt to enchant fome inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd Touch. So (Poets fing)
Grimalkin to Domeftick Vermin fworn
An everlafting Foe, with watchful eye,

*Celebrated Oxford Ale-houses.

Lyes nightly brooding ore a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtlefs Mice
Sure ruin. So her difembowell'd Web
The Spider in a Hall or Kitchin fpreads,
Obvious to vagrant Flies; fhe fecret ftands,
Within her woven Cell; the Humming Prey
Regardlefs of their Fate, rufh on the toils
Inextricable, nor will ought avail
Their Arts nor Arms, nor Shapes of lovely Hue,
The Wafp infidious, and the buzzing Drone,
And Butterfly proud of expanded wings
Diftinct with Gold, entangled in her Snares,
Ufelefs refiftance make : with eager ftrides
She tow'ring flies to her expected Spoils;
Then with envenom'd Jaws the vital Blood
Drinks of reluctant Foes, and to her Cave
Their bulky Carcaffes triumphant drags.

So pafs my days. But when Nocturnal Shades
This World invelop, and th'inclement Air
Perfwades Men to repel benumming Frofts,
With pleafant Wines, and crackling blaze of Wood;
Me lonely fitting, nor the glimmering Light
Of make-weight Candle, nor the joyous talk
Of lovely friends delights; diftrefs'd, forlorn,
Amidft the horrors of the tedious night,
Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal Thoughts
My anxious Mind; or fometimes mournful Verfe
Indite, and fing of Groves and Myrtle Shades,
Or defperate Lady near a purling stream,
Or Lover pendant on a Willow-tree;
Mean while I labour with eternal drought,
And reftlefs wifh, in vain, my parched Throat
Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repofe ;
But if a Slumber haply do's invade

My weary Limbs, my Fancy ftill awake,
Longing for Drink, and eager in my Dream,
Tipples imaginary Pots of Ale.

Awake, I find the fetled Thirft

Still gnawing, and the pleafant Phantom curfe.

Thus do I live from Pleafure quitte debarr d,
Nor taft the Fruits that the Sun's genial Rays
Mature, John-apple nor the Downy Peach,
Nor Walnut in rough-furrow'd Coat fecure,
Nor Medlar Fruit delicious in decay;
Afflictions great, yet greater ftill remain,
My Galligaskings that have long withftood
The Winter's Fury, and encroaching Frofts
By time subdu'd, (what will not time fubdue!)
A horrid Chafm difclofe, with Orifice
Wide difcontinuous; at which the Winds
Eurus and Aufter, and the dreadful force
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian Waves,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling Blafts,
Portending Agues. Thus a well-fraught Ship
Long fail'd fecure, or through the Egean Deep,
Or the Ionian, till Crufing near

The Lilybean Shoar, with hideous Crufh
On Scylla or Charibdis dangerous Rocks

She ftrikes rebounding, whence the fhatter'd Oak,
So fierce a Shock unable to withftand,
Admits the Sea, in at the gaping Side,

The crouding Waves gufh with impetuous Rage,
Refiftlefs overwhelming; Horrors feize

The Mariners, Death in their eyes appears,

They ftare, they lave, they pump, they fwear, they pray. Vain Efforts, ftill the battering Waves rufh in Implacable, till delug'd by the foam,

The Ship finks found'ring in the vaft Abyfs.

SIR RICHARD STEELE, in "The Tatler," pronounced "The Splendid Shilling" to be the finest Burlesque Poem in the English language, and DR. JOHNSON praised it as an admirable imitation of the stately movement of Milton's blank verse, whilst OLIVER GOLDSMITH, in his Criticisms, says "This is reckoned the best parody of Milton in our language; it has been an hundred times imitated without success."

It is a pity that Dr. Goldsmith did not more particularly describe these imitations, as after much searching only about half a dozen have come to light, all of them somewhat old fashioned in subject and manner of treatment.

One of the best, written by Mr. Bramston (author of The Man of Taste, The Art of Politics etc.) was entitled The Crooked Sixpence, and may be found occasionally in old books of Comic Recitations, and Elegant Extracts. Unfortunately no "Elegant Extracts" can be taken from it suitable for the chaste pages of Parodies, for the poem relates to such a topic as might have afforded excellent material to Rabelais. or Chaucer, but which cannot be alluded to in our more refined times.

A few years after the publication of The Splendid Shilling, a small pamphlet appeared, entitled "WINE, A POEM. To which is added, Old ENGLAND'S New Triumph; or, the Battle of AUDENARD, A SONG." London: Printed and sold by H. Hills in Black-fryars, near the Water-Side, 1709. No author's name is given; the poem certainly deserves to be preserved, as an early and interesting imitation of Milton's blank verse. The song of the "Battle of Audenard" is not a parody.

OF

WINE, A POEM.

Nulla placere diu, nec vivere carmina possunt,
Quæ Scribuntur aquæ portoribus.

Epist 19, Lib. 1, Hor.

F Happiness Terrestrial, and the Source Whence human Pleasure flow, sing Heavenly Muse, Of sparkling juices, of the enliv'ning Grape, Whose quickning Taste adds Vigour to the Soul, Whose Sov'raign pow'r revives decaying Nature,

And thaws the frozen Blood of Hoary Age

A kindly Warmth diffusing, Youthful fires
Gild his dim Eyes, and paint with ruddy hue
His Wrizzled Visage, ghastly wan before:
Cordial restorative to mortal Man

With copious Hand by bounteous Gods bestow'd.

Bacchus Divine, aid my advent'rous Song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar.
Inspir'd, Sublime on Pegaseon Wing
By thee upborn, I draw Miltonic Air

When fumy Vapour clog our loaded Brows

With furrow'd Frowns, when stupid downcast Eyes
Th' external Symptoms of remorse within,
Our Grief express, or when in sullen Dumps

With Head Incumbent on Expanded Palm,
Moaping we sit, in silent sorrow drown'd:
Whether inviegling Hymen has trapan'd
Th' unwary Youth, and ty'd the Gordian Knot
Of jangling Wedlock Indissoluble ;
Worried all Day by loud Zantippes Din,
And when the gentle dew of sleep inclines,
With slumb'rous Weight his Eye-lids She inflam'd
With Uncloyed Lust, and Itch Insatiable,
His stock exhausted, still yells on for more;
Nor fail She to exalt him to the Stars,
And fixt him there among the Branched Crew
(Taurus, and Aries, and Capricorn,)

The greatest Monster of the Zodiac;

Or for the loss of Anxious Worldly Pelf
Or Celia's scornful flights, and cold disdain
Had check'd his Am'rous flame with coy repulse,
The worst Events that mortals can befal;
By cares depress'd in pensive Hypoish mood,
With slowest pace, the tedious minutes Roll.

Thy charming sight, but much more charming Gust
New Life incites, and warms our chilly Blood,
Strait with pert Looks, we raise our drooping Fronts,
And pour in chrystal pure, thy purer Juice,
With cheerful Countenance and steady Hand
Raise it Lip-high, then fix the spacious Rim
Th' expecting Mouth, and now with grateful Tast,
The ebbing Wine glides swiftly o're the Tongue,
The circling Blood with quicker motion flies;
Such is thy pow'rful influence, thou strait
Dispell'dst those Clouds that lowring dark eclips'd
To whilom Glories of our gladsom Face
And dimpled Cheeks, and sparkling rolling Eyes,
Thy cheering Virtues, and thy worth proclaim.
So Mists and Exhalations that arise
From Hills or streamy Lake, Dusky or Gray
Prevail, till Phabus sheds Titanian Rays,
And paints their Fleecy Skirts with shining Gold,
Unable to resist the Foggy Damps

That veild the Surface of the verdant Fields,
At the God's penetrating Beams disperse :
The Earth again in former Beauty smiles,
In gaudiest Livery drest, all Gay and Clear.

When disappointed Strephon meets Repulse,
Scoff'd at, despised, in melancholick mood
Joyless he wasts in sighs the lazy Hours,
Till Reinforc't by thy Almighty Aid,

He Storms the Breach, and wins the Beauteous Fort.

To pay thee Homage, and receive thy Blessings,
The British Mariner quits native shore,

And ventures through the tractless vast Abyss,
Ploughing the Ocean, whilst the Upheav'd Oak
With beaked Prow, Rides tilting o're the Waves;
Shockt by Tempestuous jarring Winds she Rolls
In Dangers Imminent, till she arrives

At those blest Climes, thou favour'st with thy presence.

Whether, at Lusitanian sultry Coasts, Or Lofty Teneriff, Palma, Ferro, Provence or at the Celtiberian Shores; With gazing Pleasure and Astonishment At Paradice, (Seat of our ancient sire,) He thinks himself arriv'd, the Purple Grape In largest Clusters Pendant, grace the Vines Innumerous, in Fields Grotesque and Wild They with Implicit Curles the Oak entwine, And load with Fruit Divine her spreading Boughs; Sight most delicious, not an Irksom Thought,

Or of left native Isle, or absent Friends,
Or dearest Wife, or tender sucking Babe,
His kindly treach'rous mem'ry now presents
The Jovial God has left no room for Cares.

Celestial Liquor, thou that didst inspire
Maro and Flaccus, and the Grecian Bard,
With lofty Numbers, and Heroic strains
Unparalell'd, with Eloquence profound,
And Arguments Convincive didst enforce
Fam'd Tully, and Demosthenes Renown'd
Ennius first fam'd in Latin Song, in vain
Drew Heliconian Streams, Ungrateful whet
To Jaded Muse, and oft' with vain attempt
Heroic Acts in Flagging Numbers dull
With pains essay'd but abject still and low,
His Unrecruited Muse could never reach
The mighty Theme, till from the Purple Font
Of bright Lenaan fire, Her barren drought

He quench'd, and with inspiring Nect'rous Juice,
Her drooping spirits chear'd, aloft she towres
Born on stiff Pennons, and of Wars alarms,
And Trophies won, in loftiest Numbers sings:
'Tis thou the Hero's breast to Martial Acts,
And resolution bold, and ardour brave

Excit'st, thou check'st Inglorious lolling ease,
And sluggish minds with gen'rous fires inflam'st,
O thou, that first my quickned Soul engaged,
Still with thy Aid assist me, What is dark
Illumin, What is low raise and support
That to the height of this great Argument,
Thy Universal Sway o'er all the World,
In everlasting Numbers, like the Theme

I may record, and sing thy matchless Worth.

Had the Oxonion Bard thy Praise rehears'd, His Muse had yet retain'd her wonted height; Such as of late o'er Blenheim Field she soar'd Aerial, now in Ariconian Bogs

She lies Inglorious floundring like her Theme Languid and Faint, and on damp Wing emerg'd In acid Juice, in vain attempts to rise.

With what sublimest Joy from noisy Town,

At Rural Seat, Lucretelus retir'd,

Flaccus, untained by perplexing Cares,
Where the white Poplar, and the lofty Pine

Join Neighbouring Boughs, sweet Hospitable shade
Creating from Phabean Rays secure,

A cool Retreat, with few well chosen Friends
On flowry Mead Recumbent, spent the Hours
In Mirth Innocuous, and Alternate Verse!
With Roses Interwoven, Poplar Wreaths
Their Temples bind, dress of Sylvestrian Gods:
Choicest Nectarian Juice Crown'd largest Bowls,
And over look'd the lid, alluring sight,

Of fragrant Scent, attractive, tast Divine !
Whether from Formain Grape depress'd, Falern
Or Setin, Massic, Gauran, or Sabine,

Lesbian or Cacuban the chearing Bowl

Mov'd briskly round, and spur'd their heightened wit To sing Mecana praise their Patron kind.

But we, not as our Pristrin sires repair

T' umbrageous Grot or Vale, but when the Sun
Faintly from Western Skies his Rays oblique
Darts flopping, and to Thetis watry Lap
Hastens in prone Career, with Friends Select
Swiftly we hie to Devil Young or old

Jocund and Boon, where at the entrance stands
A Stripling, who with Scrapes and Humil Cringe,
Greets us in winning Speech, and Accent Bland;

With lightest bound, and safe unerring step
He skips before, and nimbly climbs the Stairs
Melampus thus, panting with lolling Tongue,
And wagging's Tail, Gamboles, and frisks before
His sequel Lord from pensive Walk return'd,
Whether in Shady Wood or Pasture Green,
And waits his coming at the well known Gate.
Nigh to the Stairs ascent, in regal Port
Sits a Majestick Dame, whose looks denounce
Command and Sov'reignty, with haughty Air,
And Studied Mien, in Semicirc'lar Throne
Enclos'd, she deals around her dread Commands;
Behind her (Dazling sight) in order Rang'd,
Pile above Pile Christallin Vessels shine;
Attendant Slaves with eager stride advance,
And after Homage paid, baul out aloud

Words unintelligible, noise confus'd:

She knows the Jargon Sounds, and strait describes
In Characters Mysterious Words obscure;
More legible are Algebraic Signs,

Or Mystic Figures by Magicians drawn,
When they Invoke aid Diabolical.

Drive hence the Rude and Barb'rous Dissonance Of Savage Thracians, and Croatian Boors; The loud Centaurean Broil's with Lapithe Sound Harsh, and grating to Lenaan God; Chase brutal Feuds of Balian skippers hence,

(Amid their Cups, whose Innate Tempers shown) In clumsy Fist wielding Scymetrian Knife,

Who slash each others Eyes, and Blubber'd Face,
Prophaning Bacchanalian solemn Rites :
Musicks Harmonius Numbers better suit
His Festivals, from Instrument or Voice,
Or Gasperim's Hand the trembling string
Should touch, or from the Tuscan Dames
Or warbling Tosts more soft Melodious Tongue
Sweet Symphonies should flow, the Delian God
For Airy Bacchus is Associate meet.

The Stairs Ascent now gain'd our Guide unbars The door of Spacious Room, and creeking Chairs (To ear offensive) round the Table sets,

We sit, when thus his Florid Speech begins :

Name, Sirs, the WINE that most invites you, Tast,
Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,

Or Hoc Antique, or Lisbon New or old,
Bourdeaux, or neat French White, or Alicant:
For Bordeaux we with Voice Unanimous
Declare, (such Sympathy's in Boon Conpeers.)
He quits the Room Alert, but soon returns,
One hand Capacious glist'ring Vessels bore
Resplendant, th' other with a grasp secure,
A Bottle (mighty charge) upstaid, full Fraught
With goodly Wine, He with extended Hand
Rais'd High, pours forth the Sanguin frothy Juice,
O'erspread with Bubbles, dissipated soon:
We strait t'our Arms repair, experienced Chiefs;
Now Glasses clash with Glasses, (Charming Sound,)
And Glorious ANNA's Health the first the best
Crowns the full Glass, at Her inspiring Name
The sprightly Wine Results, and seem to smile,
With hearty Zeal, and wish unanimous

The Health we drink, and in her Health our own.

A Pause ensues, and now with grateful Chat W' improve the Interval, and Joyous Mirth Engages our rais'd Souls, Pat Repartee, Or Witty Joke our airy Senses moves To pleasant Laughter, strait the Echoing Room With Universal Peals and Shouts resounds.

The Royal Dane, blest Consort of the blest QUEEN, Next Crowns the Rubied Nectar, all whose Bliss In ANNA's plac't with Sympathetic Flame, And Mutual Endearments, all her Joys, Like the kind Turtles pure untainted Love, Center in Him, who shares the grateful Hearts Of Loyal Subjects, with his Sov'reign QUEEN, For by his Prudent Care, united shores Were sav'd from Hostile Fleets Invasion dire.

The Hero Malbro next, whose vast Exploits Fame's Clarion sounds, fresh Laurels, Triumphs new We wish, like those he won at Hockstet's Field.

Next Devonshire Illustrious, who from Race

Of Noblest Patriots sprung, whose Soul's endow'd, And is with ev'ry Vertuous gift Adorn'd

That shon in his most worthy Ancestors,

For then distinct in sep'rate Breast were seen
Virtues distinct, but all in him unite.

Prudent Godolphin, of the Nations weal
Frugal, but free and gen'rous of his own.

Next Crowns the Bowl, with Faithful Sunderland.
And Halifax, the Muses darling Song,

In whom Conspicuous, with full Lustre shine
The surest Judgment, and the brightest Wit,
Himself Mecanas and a Flaccus too,

And all the worthies of the British Realm

In order rang'd succeeded, Healths that ting'd
The Dulcet Wine with a more charming Gust.

Now each their Mistress by whose scorching Eyes
Fir'd, tost Cosmelia Fair, or Dulcibella,
Or Silvia Comely Black with jetty Eyes
Piercing, or Airy Celia sprightly Maid.
Insensibly thus flow Unnumber'd Hours;
Glass succeeds Glass, till the Dircean God
Shines in our Eyes, and with his Fulgent Rays
Enlightens our glad Looks with lovely Die;
All Blithe and Jolly that like Arthur's Knights
Of Rotund Table, Fam'd in Pristin Records,
Now most we seem'd, such is the Power of Wine.
Thus we the winged Hours in harmless Mirth,
And Joys Unsull'd pass, till Humid Night
Has half her Race perform'd, now all abroad
Is hush'd and silent, nor the Rumbling Noise
Of Coach or Cart, or Smoaky Link-Boys call
Is heard; but Universal Silence Reigns:
When we in Merry Plight, Airy and Gay,
Surpriz'd to find the Hour so swiftly flie,
With hasty knock, or Twang of Pendant Cord
Alarm the Drowsy Youth from slumb'ring Nod;
Startled he flies, and stumbles o'er the Stairs
Erroneous, and with busie Knuckles plies

His yet clung Eyelids, and with stagg'ring Reel
Enters Confus'd, and Mutt'ring asks our Wills;
When we with Lib'ral Hand the Score discharge,
And Homeward each his Course with steady step
Unerring steer'd of Cares and Coin bereft.

Of riot-stirring wine, unwholesome draught,
Let Pride's loose sons prolong the wasteful night;
My sober ev'ning let the tankard bless,

With toast embrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught
While the rich draught with oft-repeated whiffs
Tobacco mild improves. Divine repast!
Where no crude surfeit or intemperate joys
Of lawless Bacchus reign; but o'er my soul
A calm lethean creeps, in drowsy trance

Each thought subsides, and sweet oblivion wraps

My peaceful brain, as if the leaden rod

Of magic morpheus o'er mine eyes had shed
Its opiate influence. What though sore ills
Oppress, dire want of chill-dispelling coals
Or cheerful candle (save the make-weight's gleam
Haply remaining) heart rejoicing ALE

Cheers the sad scene, and every want supplies.
Meantime, not mindless of the daily task
Of tutor sage, upon the learned leaves
Of deep SMIGLECIUS much I meditate,
While ALE inspires, and lends its kindred aid
The thought-perplexing labour to pursue
Sweet helicon of logic! but if friends
Congenial call me from the toilsome page,
To pot-house I repair, the sacred haunt,
Where ALE thy votaries in full resort
Hold rites nocturnal. In capacious chair
Of mcnumental oak and antique mould,
That long has stood the rage of conqu'ring years
Inviolate, (nor in more ample chair
Smokes rosy justice, when th'important cause,
Whether of hen-roost, or of mirthful rape,

In all the majesty of paunch he tries)
Studious of ease, and provident, I place
My gladsome limbs; while in repeated round
Returns replenish'd the successive cup,
And the brisk fire conspires to genial joy:
While haply, to relieve the ling'ring hours
In innocent delight, amusive putt

On smooth joint-stool in emblematic play,
The vain vicissitudes of fortune shews.
Nor reckoning, name tremendous, me disturbs
Nor, call'd for, chills my breast with sudden fear
While on the wonted door, expressive mark,
The frequent penny stands describ'd to view,
In snowy characters and graceful row.

Hail, TICKING! surest guardian of distress
Beneath thy shelter, penny less I quaff

The cheerful cup, nor hear with hopeless beart
New oysters cry'd: Though much the poet's friend,
Ne'er yet attempted in poetic strain,

Accept this tribute of poetic praise !

Nor proctor thrice with vocal heel alarms
Our joys secure, nor deigns the lowly roof
Of pot-house, snug to visit; wiser he
The splendid tavern haunts, or coffee house
Of JAMES OF JUGGINS, where the grateful breath
Of loathed tobacco ne'er diffus'd its balm ;
But the lewd spendthrift, falsely deem'd polite,
While steams around the fragrant Indian bowl
Oft damns the vulgar sons of humbler ALE:
In vain the proctor's voice arrests their joys;
Just fate of wanton pride and loose excess !
Nor less by day delightful is thy draught,
All-powerful ALE! whose sorrow-soothing sweet
Oft I repeat in vacant afternoon,

When tatter'd stockings crave my mending hand
Not unexperienc'd; while the tedious toil
Slides unregarded. Let the tender swain