Till on a day cut out by fate,
When folks came thick to make their court,
Out slipp'd a mystery of state,
To give the town and country sport.
Now enters Bush with new state airs,
His lordship's premier minister; And who in all profound affairs
Is held as needful as his clyster. With head reclining on his shoulder He deals and hears mysterious chat, While every ignorant beholder
Asks of his neighbor, who is that? With this he put up to my lord,
The courtiers kept their distance due,
IIe twitch'd his sleeve, and stole a word;
Then to a corner both withdrew.
Imagine now my lord and Bush
Whispering in junto most profound,
Like good king Phyz Phyz and good king Ush,
While all the rest stood gaping round.
At length a spark, not too well bred,
Of forward face and ear acute,
Advanced on tiptoe, lean'd his head,
To overhear the grand dispute:
To learn what northern kings design,
Or from Whitehall some new express,
Papists disarm'd or fall of coin;
For sure (thought he) it can't be less.
My lord, said Bush, a friend and I,
Disguised in two old threadbare coats,
Ere morning's dawn, stole out to spy
How markets went for hay and oats.
With that he draws two handfuls out,
The one was oats, the other hay
Puts this to's excellency's snout,
And begs he would the other weigh.
My lord seems pleased, but still directs
By all means to bring down the rates;
Then, with a congee circumflex,
Bush, smiling round on all, retreats.
Our listener stood awhile confused,
But gathering spirits, wisely ran for't,
Enraged to see the world abused,
By two such whispering kings of Brentford.
"That my lord Berkeley stinks when he is in love."
DID ever problem thus perplex,
Or more employ the female sex?
So sweet a passion, who would think,
Jove ever form'd to make a stink!
The ladies vow and swear they'll try
Whether it be a truth or lie.
Love's fire, it seems, like inward heat,
Works in my lord by stool and sweat,
Which brings a stink from every pore,
And from behind and from before;
Yet, what is wonderful to tell it,
None but the favorite nymph can smell it.
But now, to solve the natural cause
By sober philosophic laws;
Whether all passions, when in ferment,
Work out as anger does in vermin;
So, when a weasel you torment,
You find his passion by his scent.
We read of kings who in a fright,
Though on a throne, would fall to
Beside all this, deep scholars know
That the main string of Cupid's bow
Once on a time was an
gut;
Now to a nobler office put,
By favor or desert preferr'd
From giving passage to a —;
But still, though fix'd among the stars,
Does sympathize with human -.
Thus, when you feel a hard-bound breech,
Conclude love's bowstring at full stretch,
Till the kind looseness comes, and then
Conclude the bow relax'd again.
And now, the ladies all are bent
To try the great experiment,
Ambitious of a regent's heart,
Spread all their charms to catch a
Watching the first unsavory wind,
Some ply before and some behind.
My lord, on fire amid the dames,
F-ts like a laurel in the flames.
The fair approach the speaking part,
To try the back way to his heart.
For, as when we a gun discharge,
Although the bore be ne'er so large,
Before the flame from muzzle burst,
Just at the breach it flashes first;
So from my lord his passion broke,
first, and then he spoke.
The ladies vanish in the smother, To confer notes with one another; And now they all agreed to name Whom each one thought the happy dame. Quoth Neal, whate'er the rest may think, I'm sure 'twas I that smelt the stink. You smell the stink! by -, you lie,
Ladies, quoth Levens, pray forbear;
Let's not fall out; we all had share;
And by the most I can discover,
My lord's a universal lover.
THE DESCRIPTION OF A SALAMANDER. 1705.
[From Pliny, Nat. Hist. lib. x. c. 67, lib. xxix. c. 4.]
Ar the siege of Namur lord Cutts commanded and headed a storming party, and displayed such cool intrepidity that he was complimented with the name of the Salamander, as if the scene of flame and terror had been his proper element.
As mastiff dogs, in modern phrase, are
Call'd Pompey, Scipio, and Cæsar;
As pies and daws are often styled
With christian nicknames, like a child;
As we say Monsieur to an ape,
Without offence to human shape;
So men have got from bird and brute
Names that would best their nature suit.
The Lion, Eagle, Fox, and Boar,
Were heroes' titles heretofore,
Bestow'd as hieroglyphics fit
To show their valor, strength, or wit:
For what is understood by fame,
Besides the getting of a name?
But e'er since men invented guns,
A different way their fancy runs:
To paint a hero, we inquire
For something that will conquer fire.
Would you describe Turenne or Trump?
Think of a bucket or a pump.
Are these too low? - then find out grander,
Call my LORD CUTTS a Salamander.
'Tis well; - but since we live among
Detractors with an evil tongue,
Who may object against the term,
Pliny shall prove what we affirm:
Pliny shall prove, and we'll apply,
And I'll be judged by standers-by.
First, then, our author has defined
This reptile of the serpent kind,
With gaudy coat, and shining train:
But loathsome spots his body stain:
Out from some hole obscure he flies,
When rains descend and tempests rise,
Till the sun clears the air; and then
Crawls back neglected to his den.
So, when the war has raised a storm,
I've seen a snake in human form,
All stain'd with infamy and vice,
Leap from the dunghill in a trice,
The ladies vow and swear they'll try
Whether it be a truth or lie.
Love's fire, it seems, like inward heat,
Works in my lord by stool and sweat,
Which brings a stink from every pore,
And from behind and from before;
Yet, what is wonderful to tell it,
None but the favorite nymph can smell it.
But now, to solve the natural cause
By sober philosophic laws;
Whether all passions, when in ferment,
Work out as anger does in vermin;
So, when a weasel you torment,
You find his passion by his scent.
We read of kings who in a fright,
Though on a throne, would fall to
Beside all this, deep scholars know
That the main string of Cupid's bow
Once on a time was an
- gut;
Now to a nobler office put,
By favor or desert prefèrr'd
From giving passage to a —;
But still, though fix'd among the stars,
Does sympathize with human
Thus, when you feel a hard-bound breech,
Conclude love's bowstring at full stretch,
Till the kind looseness comes, and then
Conclude the bow relax'd again.
And now, the ladies all are bent To try the great experiment, Ambitious of a regent's heart, Spread all their charms to catch a -. Watching the first unsavory wind, Some ply before and some behind. My lord, on fire amid the dames, F-ts like a laurel in the flames. The fair approach the speaking part, To try the back way to his heart. For, as when we a gun discharge, Although the bore be ne'er so large, Before the flame from muzzle burst, Just at the breach it flashes first; So from my lord his passion broke, first, and then he spoke.
The ladies vanish in the smother, To confer notes with one another; And now they all agreed to name Whom each one thought the happy dame. Quoth Neal, whate'er the rest may think, I'm sure 'twas I that smelt the stink. You smell the stink! by, you lie,
Ladies, quoth Levens, pray forbear;
Let's not fall out; we all had share;
And by the most I can discover,
My lord's a universal lover.
THE DESCRIPTION OF A SALAMANDER. 1705.
[From Pliny, Nat. Hist. lib. x. c. 67, lib. xxix. c. 4.]
Ar the siege of Namur lord Cutts commanded and headed a storming party, and displayed such cool intrepidity that he was complimented with the name of the Salamander, as if the scene of flame and terror had been his proper element.
As mastiff dogs, in modern phrase, are
Call'd Pompey, Scipio, and Cæsar;
As pies and daws are often styled
With christian nicknames, like a child;
As we say Monsieur to an ape,
Without offence to human shape;
So men have got from bird and brute
Names that would best their nature suit.
The Lion, Eagle, Fox, and Boar,
Were heroes' titles heretofore,
Bestow'd as hieroglyphics fit
To show their valor, strength, or wit:
For what is understood by fame,
Besides the getting of a name?
But e'er since men invented guns,
A different way their fancy runs:
To paint a hero, we inquire
For something that will conquer fire.
Would you describe Turenne or Trump?
Think of a bucket or a pump.
Are these too low? - then find out grander,
Call my LORD CUTTS a Salamander.
'Tis well; - but since we live among
Detractors with an evil tongue,
Who may object against the term,
Pliny shall prove what we affirm:
Pliny shall prove, and we'll apply,
And I'll be judged by standers-by.
First, then, our author has defined
This reptile of the serpent kind,
With gaudy coat, and shining train:
But loathsome spots his body stain:
Out from some hole obscure he flies,
When rains descend and tempests rise,
Till the sun clears the air; and then
Crawls back neglected to his den.
So, when the war has raised a storm,
I've seen a snake in human form,
All stain'd with infamy and vice,
Leap from the dunghill in a trice,
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