ANSWER. BY DR. SWIFT DARE you dispute, you saucy brute, Howe'er you flounce, I here pronounce, Your water's mud, and sours the blood Those pocky drabs, to cure their scabs, Will back be sent worse than they went, Llewllyn why? As well may I Name honest doctor Pellin; No subject fit to try your wit, When you went colonelling; By dull intrigues 'twixt jades and teagues You met at Ballyspellin. Our lasses fair, say what you dare, Who sowins make with shelling, At Market-hill more beaux can kill, Than yours at Ballyspellin. Dick would cock his nose in scorn, Dick could neatly dance a jig, But Tom was best at borees : Tom would pray for every whig, And Dick curse all the tories. Dick would make a woful noise, Tom could move with lordly grace, Dick nimbly skipt the gutter; Tom could talk with solemn face; But Dick could better sputter. Dick was come to high renown Since he commenc'd physician; Tom was held by all the town Tom had the genteeler swing, Dick knew better how to swing Dick for repartee was fit, And Tom for deep discerning; Dick was thought the brighter wit, But Tom had better learning Dick with zealous noes and ayes Could roar as loud as Stentor, In the house 'tis all he says; But Tom is eloquenter. DICK, A MAGGOT. As when, from rooting in a bin, You know him by his hazel snout: For, as he shakes his wainscot chops, CLAD ALL IN BROWN. TO DICK. IMITATED FROM COWLEY. FOULEST brute that stinks below, Why in this brown dost thou appear? For would'st thou make a fouler show, Thou must go naked all the year. Fresh from the mud a wallowing sow Would then be not so brown as thou. "Tis not the coat that looks so dun, Seen from behind a dirty clout: Thou now one heap of foulness art, Thy body's clothed like thy soul; Old carted bawds such garments wear, As shrivell'd and as black as thine. If thou wert in a cart, I fear Thou would'st be pelted worse than they're. Yet, when we see thee thus array'd, The neighbours think it is but just, Of cleanly houses who will doubt, DICK'S VARIETY. DULL uniformity in fools, I hate, who gape and sneer by rules. Such pastimes, when our taste is nice, Nor scours the streets without a shirt; For priests and jesuits in disguises; Swear they were with the Swedes at Bender, And listing troops for the pretender. But Dick can f―t, and dance, and frisk, No other monkey half so brisk; |