At the fides there was fpinnage and pudding made hot; In the middle a place where the pafty---was not. rogue, With his long-winded fpeeches, his smiles and his brogue, And, “madam, quoth he, may this bit be my poison, A prettier dinner I never fet eyes on; Pray a flice of your liver, though may I be curft, But I've eat of your tripe, till I'm ready to burst." "The tripe, quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek, I could dine on this tripe seven days in the week: I like these here dinners fo pretty and small; But your friend there, the doctor, eats nothing at all." “O-oh! quoth my friend, he'll come on in a trice, He's keeping a corner for fomething that's nice : There's a pafty"—" a pasty! repeated the Jew; I don't care, if I keep a corner for't too." "What the de'il, mon, a pasty! re-echo'd the Scot; Though splitting, I'll ftill keep a corner for that." "We'll all keep a corner, the lady cried out ;" "We'll all keep a corner was echo'd about." While thus we refolv'd, and the pafty delay'd, With looks that quite petrified, enter'd the maid; A visage so fad, and fo pale with affright, Wak'd Priam in drawing his curtains by night. But we quickly found out, for who could mistake her? FROM FROM T.HE ORATORIO O F THE CAPTIVITY. SON G. THE wretch condemn'd with life to part, Still, ftill on hope relies ; Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light, And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray. SONG. SON G. Memory! thou fond deceiver, Still importunate and vain, To former joys, recurring ever, And turning all the past to pain; Thou, like the world, the oppreft oppreffing, Thy fmiles increase the wretch's woe? And he who wants each other bleffing, 1 THE THE CLOWN'S REPLY. JOHN TROTT was defired by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why affes had ears? "An't please you," quoth John, "I'm not given "to letters, "Nor dare I pretend to know more than my bet66 ters, "Howe'er from this time I fhall ne'er fee your 66 graces, "As I hope to be fav'd! without thinking on affes." Edinburgh, 1753. |