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With that Sir Topaz, (hapless youth!)
Are free to work thee woe.' Then Will, who bears the wispy fire To trail the swains among the mire,
The caitiff upward flung; There, like a tortoise in a shop, He dangled from the chamber top, Where whilome Edwin hung. The revel now proceeds apace, Deftly they frisk it o'er the place,
They sit, they drink, and eat; The time with frolick mirth beguile, And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while 'Till all the rout retreat.
By this the stars began to wink,
Then deem'd the dole was o'er :
This tale a Sybil-Nurse ared;
Thus some are born, my son (she cries)
( And some are born with none.
But virtue can itself advance
To what the fav'rite fools of chance
Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
Upon th' unworthy mind.'
The MISERY of a Town LIFE, and the HAPPINESS of a COUNTRY ONE;
Exemplified in the Story of the Town-Mouse and Country-Mause.
(SWIFT AND POPE.)
I'VE often wish'd that I had clear,
Well, now I have all this and more,
• But here a grievance seems to lie, All this is mine but till I die ;
• 1 can't but think 'twould sound more clever,
And if I pray by reason's rules,
And not like forty other fools:
As thus," Vouchsafe, Oh gracious Maker!
"To grant me this and t'other acre:
To me and to my heirs for ever.
If I ne'er got or lost a groat,
By any trick, or any fault;
• Remov'd frorn all th' ambitious scene, Nor puff'd by pride, nor sunk by spleen.' In short, I'm perfectly content,
Let me but live on this side Trent:
"Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown; "Let my lord know you're come to town." I hurry me in haste away, Not thinking it is levee-day; And find his honour in a pound, Hemm'd by a triple circle round, Chequer'd with ribbons blue and green: How should I thrust myself between! Some wag observes me thus perplext, And smiling whispers to the next, "I thought the Dean had been too proud, "To justle here among the croud." Another, in a surly fit,
Tells me I have more zeal than wit,
I get a whisper, and withdraw;
This humbly offers me his case—
"To-morrow my appeal comes on,
As, "What's o'clock?" And, "How's the wind?”
Or gravely try to read the lines
Writ underneath the country signs;
My lord and me as far as Staines,
Yet some, I know, with envy swell,
You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great; "Inform us, will the Emperor treat?
"Or do the prints and papers lie?" Faith, Sir, you know as well as I. Ah, Doctor, how you love to jest! ""Tis now no secret"-I protest 'Tis one to me-" Then tell us, pray, "When are the troops to have their pay?" And tho' I solemnly declare
I know no more than my Lord Mayor,
Thus in a sea of folly toss'd, My choicest hours of life are lost; Yet always wishing to retreat, Oh, could I see my country seat! There leaning near a gentle brook, Sleep, or peruse some ancient book, And there in sweet oblivion drown Those cares that haunt the court and town. O charming noons! and nights divine! Or when I sup, or when I dine, My friends above, my folks below, Chatting and laughing all-a-row, The beans and bacon set before 'em, The grace-cup serv'd with all decorum : Each willing to be pleas'd and please, And even the very dogs at ease. Here no man prates of idle things, How this or that Italian sings, A neighbour's madness, or his spouse's, Or what's in either of the houses: But something much more our concern, And quite a scandal not to learn: Which is the happier, or the wiser, A man of merit, or a miser? Whether we ought to choose our friends, For their own worth, or our own ends? What good, or better, we may call, And what, the very best of all?
Our friend, Dan Prior, told (you know) A tale extremely apropos:
Name a town life, and in a trice