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In peaked hoods and mantles tarnishid,

Sour visages, enough to scare ye,

High Dames of Honour once, that garnish'd The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary !

The Peeress comes : The Audience stare,

And doff their hats with due submission;

She courtsies, as she takes his chair,

To all the People of condition,

The Bard with many an artful fib,

Had in imagination fenc'd him,

Disprov'd the arguments of * Squib,
And all that S Groom could urge against him,


* Groom of the Chambers.

$ The Steward.

But soon his rhetorick forsook him,

When he the folemn hall had seen ;

A sudden fit of ague shook him,

He stood as mute as poor || Macteane.

Yet something he was heard to mutter, “ How in the park beneath an old-tree

(Without design to hurt the butter, " Or any malice to the poultry)

“ He once or twice had penn'd a sonnet ; " Yet hopd, that he might save his bacon :

“ Numbers would give their oaths upon it, “ He neler was for a conj'rer taken.”


| A famous highwayman hang'd the week before.

The ghostly Prudes, with hagged face,
Already had condemn'd the finner.

My Lady rose, and with a grace
She smil'd, and bid him come to dinner.

“Jesu-Maria ! Madam Bridget,

Why, what can the Viscountess mean

(Cry'd the square hoods in woeful fidget) The times are alter'd quite and clean !

Decorum's turn'd to mere civility ;

“ Her air and all her manners shew it.

“ Condemn'd me to her affability!

Speak to a Commoner and Poet !”

[Here 500 Stanzas are loft.]


And so, God save our noble King,

And guard us from long-winded Lubbers,

That to eternity would fing,
And keep my Lady from her Rubbers,


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