Or velvet foft, or plush with fhaggy pile:
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock
Wash'd by the fea, or on the grav❜ly bank
Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud,
Fearless of wrong, repos'd his weary strength.
Those barb'rous ages paft, fucceeded next
The birth-day of invention, weak at first,
Dull in defign, and clumsy to perform.
Joint-ftools were then created; on three legs
Upborne they stood. Three legs upholding firm
A maffy flab, in fashion square or round.
On fuch a stool immortal Alfred fat,
And sway'd the fceptre of his infant realms;
And fuch in ancient halls and manfions drear
May still be seen, but perforated fore
And drill'd in holes the folid oak is found,
By worms voracious eating through and through. At length a generation more refin'd
Improv'd the fimple plan, made three legs four,
Gave them a twisted form vermicular,
And o'er the feat with plenteous wadding stuff'd,
Induced a fplendid cover green and blue,
Yellow and red, of tap'ftry richly wrought
And woven clofe, or needle-work fublime.
There might ye ee the piony spread wide,
The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass,
Lap-dog and lambkin with black staring eyes,
And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.
Now came the cane from India, fmooth and
bright
With Nature's varnish; fever'd into stripes
That interlac'd each other, these supplied
Of texture firm a lattice-work, that brac'd
The new machine, and it became a chair.
But restless was the chair; the back erect
Distress'd the weary loins that felt no case ;
The flipp'ry feat betray'd the fliding part
That prefs'd it, and the feet hung dangling down,
Anxious in vain to find the distant floor.
These for the rich the reft, whom fate had plac'd
In modesty mediocrity, content
With base materials, fat on well-tann'd hides
Obdurate and unyielding, glaffy smooth,
With here and there a tuft of crimson yarn,
Or fcarlet crewel in the cushion fixt:
If cushion might be call'd, what harder feem'd
Than the firm oak of which the frame was form'd.
No want of timber then was felt or fear'd
In Albion's happy ifle.
Pond'rous, and fixt by
But elbows ftill were wanting; these, some say
An Alderman of Cripplegate contriv❜d,
And some ascribe th' invention to a priest
Burly and big and ftudious of his cafe.
But rude at first, and not with easy flope
Receding wide, they prefs'd against the ribs,
And bruis'd the fide, and elevated high
Taught the rais'd shoulders to invade the ears.
Long time elaps'd or e'er our rugged fires
Complain'd, though incommodiously pent in,'
And ill at ease behind. The Ladies first
'Gan murmur, as became the fofter sex.
Ingenious fancy, never better pleas'd
Than when employ'd t' accommodate the fair,
Heard the sweet moan with pity, and devis'd
The foft fettee, one elbow at each end,
And in the midft an elbow, it receiv'd
United yet divided, twain at once.
So fit two Kings of Brentford on one throne;
And fo two citizens who take the air
Close pack'd and fmiling in a chaife and one:
But relaxation of the languid frame
By foft recumbency of outstretch'd limbs,
Was blifs referv'd for happier days. So flow
The growth of what is excellent, so hard
T'attain perfection in this nether world.
Thus firft neceffity invented stools,
Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs,
And luxury th' accomplish'd Sofa last.
The nurse fleeps sweetly, hir'd to watch the
fick,
Whom fnoring the disturbs. As fweetly he
Who quits the coach-box at the midnight hour
To fleep within the carriage more secure,
His legs depending at the open door.
Sweet fleep enjoys the Curate in his desk,
The tedious Rector drawling o'er his head,
And fweet the Clerk below: but neither fleep
Of lazy Nurse, who fnores the fick man dead,
Nor his who quits the box at midnight hour
To flumber in the carriage more secure,
Nor fleep enjoy'd by Curate in his desk,
Nor yet the dozings of the Clerk are sweet,
Compar'd with the repofe the SOFA yields.
Oh may I live exempted (while I live
Guiltless of pamper'd appetite obfcene)
From pangs arthritic that infeft the toe
Of libertine excefs. The SOFA fuits
The gouty limb, 'tis true; but gouty limb,
Though on the SOFA, may I never feel:
For I have lov'd the rural walk through lanes.
Of graffy swarth close cropt by nibbling sheep,
And skirted thick with intertexture firm
Of thorny boughs have lov'd the rural walk
O'er hills, through valleys, and by rivers brink,
E'er fince a truant boy I pafs'd my bounds
T'enjoy a ramble on the banks of Thames.
And still remember, nor without regret
Of hours that forrow fince has much endear'd,
How oft, my flice of pocket ftore confum'd,
Still hung'ring, pennylefs and far from home,
I fed on fcarlet hips and ftony haws,
Or blushing crabs, or berries that imbofs
The bramble, black as jet, or floes auftere.
Hard fare! but fuch as boyish appetite
Difdains not, nor the palate undeprav'd
By culinary arts, unfav'ry deems.
No SOFA then awaited my return,
Nor SOFA then I needed. Youth repairs
His wafted fpirits quickly, by long toil
Incurring fhort fatigue; and though our years
As life declines, speed rapidly away,
And not a year but pilfers as he goes
Some youthful grace that age would gladly keep, A tooth or auburn lock, and by degrees
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