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Denote him of the reptile kind;
And here my simile almost tript,
b our scribbling balds.
AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.1
Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
It cannot hold you long.
In Islington there was a man,
Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran
Whene'er he went to pray.
A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad,
When he put on his clothes.
And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
And curs of low degree.
'See Vicar of Wakefield, c. xvii.
In the Citizen of the World, vol. ii. lett. lxvi. is a paper on the ' Epidemic Terror, the dread of Mad Dogs, which now prevails; the whole nation is now actually groaning under the malignity of its influence.'
This dog and man at first were friends;
But when a pique began,
Went mad, and bit the man.
Around from all the neighbouring streets The wondering neighbours ran, And swore the dog had lost his wits, To bite so good a man.
The wound it seem'd both sore and sad
To every christian eye; And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.
But soon a wonder came to light,
The man recover'd of the bite,
THE CLOWN'S REPLY.
John Trott was desir'd by two witty peers To tell them the reason-why asses had ears? 'An't please you,' quoth John,' I'm not given to
letters, Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters; Howe'er, from this time I shall ne'er see your graces, As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on asses.'
STANZAS ON WOMAN.1
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
The only art her guilt to cover,
To give repentance to her lover,
1 See Vicar of Wakefield, c. xxiv.
A DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S
Where the Red Lion staring o'er the way,
1 These lines first appeared in the Citizen of the World, vol. i. letter xxix.