The Humorous Poetry of the English Language; from Chaucer to Saxe Part 88

THE CUDGELED HUSBAND.

As Thomas was cudgel'd one day by his wife, He took to his heels and fled for his life: Tom's three dearest friends came by in the squabble, And saved him at once from the shrew and the rabble; Then ventured to give him some sober advice- But Tom is a person of honor so nice, Too wise to take counsel, too proud to take warning, That he sent to all three a challenge next morning.

Three duels he fought, thrice ventured his life; Went home, and was cudgeled again by his wife.

ON SEEING VERSES WRITTEN UPON WINDOWS AT INNS

The sage, who said he should be proud Of windows in his breast, Because he ne'er a thought allow'd That might not be confest; His window scrawled by every rake, His breast again would cover, And fairly bid the devil take The diamond and the lover.

ON SEEING THE BUSTS OP NEWTON, LOCKE, AND OTHERS, Placed by Queen Caroline in Richmond Hermitage.

Louis the living learned fed, And raised the scientific head; Our frugal queen, to save her meat, Exalts the heads that cannot eat.

ON THE CHURCH'S DANGER.

Good Halifax and pious Wharton cry, The Church has vapors; there's no danger nigh.

In those we love not, we no danger see, And were they hang'd, there would no danger be.

But we must silent be, amid our fears, And not believe our senses, but the Peers.

So ravishers that know no sense of shame, First stop her mouth, and then debauch the dame.

ON ONE DELACOURT'S COMPLIMENTING CARTHY ON HIS POETRY.

Carthy, you say, writes well--his genius true, You p.a.w.n your word for him--he'll vouch for you.

So two poor knaves, who find their credit fail, To cheat the world, become each other's bail.

ON A USURER.

Beneath this verdant hillock lies, Demar, the wealthy and the wise.

His heirs, that he might safely rest, Have put his carca.s.s in a chest, The very chest in which, they say, His other self, his money lay.

And, if his heirs continue kind To that dear self he left behind, I dare believe, that four in five Will think his better half alive.

TO MRS. BIDDY FLOYD; OR, THE RECEIPT TO FORM A BEAUTY.

When Cupid did his grandsire Jove entreat To form some Beauty by a new receipt, Jove sent, and found, far in a country scene, Truth, innocence, good nature, look serene: From which ingredients first the dext'rous boy Pick'd the demure, the awkward, and the coy.

The Graces from the court did next provide Breeding, and wit, and air, and decent pride: These Venus cleans from every spurious grain Of nice coquet, affected, pert, and vain.

Jove mix'd up all, and the best clay employ'd; Then call'd the happy composition FLOYD.

THE REVERSE; OR, MRS. CLUDD.

Venus one day, as story goes, But for what reason no man knows, In sullen mood and grave deport, Trudged it away to Jove's high court; And there his G.o.dship did entreat, To look out for his best receipt: And make a monster strange and odd, Abhorr'd by man and every G.o.d.

Jove, ever kind to all the fair, Nor e'er refused a lady's prayer, Straight oped 'scrutoire, and forth he took A neatly bound and well-gilt book; Sure sign that nothing enter'd there, But what was very choice and rare.

Scarce had he turn'd a page or two-- It might be more, for aught I know; But, be the matter more or less, 'Mong friends 't will break no squares, I guess.

Then, smiling, to the dame quoth he, Here's one will fit you to a T.

But, as the writing doth prescribe, 'Tis fit the ingredients we provide.

Away he went, and search'd the stews, And every street about the Mews; Diseases, impudence, and lies, Are found and brought him in a trice From Hackney then he did provide, A clumsy air and awkward pride; From lady's toilet next he brought Noise, scandal, and malicious thought.

These Jove put in an old close-stool, And with them mix'd the vain, the fool.

But now came on his greatest care, Of what he should his paste prepare; For common clay or finer mold Was much too good, such stuff to hold At last he wisely thought on mud; So raised it up, and call'd it--CLUDD.

With this, the lady well content, Low curtsey'd, and away she went.

THE PLACE OF THE d.a.m.nED.

All folks who pretend to religion and grace, Allow there's a h.e.l.l, but dispute of the place: But if h.e.l.l may by logical rules be defined The place of the d.a.m.n'd--I'll tell you my mind.

Wherever the d.a.m.n'd do chiefly abound, Most certainly there is h.e.l.l to be found: d.a.m.n'd poets, d.a.m.n'd critics, d.a.m.n'd blockheads, d.a.m.n'd knaves; d.a.m.n'd senators bribed, d.a.m.n'd prost.i.tute slaves; d.a.m.n'd lawyers and judges, d.a.m.n'd lords and d.a.m.n'd squires; d.a.m.n'd spies and informers, d.a.m.n'd friends and d.a.m.n'd liars; d.a.m.n'd villains, corrupted in every station; Dama'd time-serving priests all over the nation; And into the bargain I'll readily give you d.a.m.n'd ignorant prelates, and councillors privy.

Then let us no longer by parsons be flamm'd, For we know by these marks the place of the d.a.m.n'd: And h.e.l.l to be sure is at Paris or Rome.

How happy for us that it is not at home!

THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.

With a world of thought oppress'd, I sunk from reverie to rest.

A horrid vision seized my head, I saw the graves give up their dead!

Jove, arm'd with terrors, bursts the skies, And thunder roars and lightning flies; Amazed, confused, its fate unknown, The world stands trembling at his throne!

While each pale sinner hung his head, Jove, nodding, shook the heavens, and said: "Offending race of human kind, By nature, reason, learning, blind; You who, through frailty, stepp'd aside; And you, who never fell from pride: You who in different sects were shamm'd, And come to see each other d.a.m.n'd; (So some folk told you, but they knew No more of Jove's designs than you); --The world's mad business now is o'er, And I resent these pranks no more.

--I to such blockheads set my wit!

I d.a.m.n such fools!--Go, go, you're bit."

PAULUS THE LAWYER.

LINDSAY.

"A slave to crowds, scorch'd with the summer's heats, In courts the wretched lawyer toils and sweats; While smiling Nature, in her best attire, Regales each sense, and vernal joys inspire.

Can he, who knows that real good should please Barter for gold his liberty and ease?"

This Paulus preach'd:--When, entering at the door, Upon his board the client pours the ore: He grasps the shining gifts, pores o'er the cause, Forgets the sun, and dozes o'er the laws.

EPIGRAMS BY THOMAS SHERIDAN.

ON A CARICATURE.

If you say this was made for friend Dan, you belie it, I'll swear he's so like it that he was made by it.

ON DEAN SWIFT'S PROPOSED HOSPITAL FOR LUNATICS

Great wits to madness nearly are allied, This makes the Dean for kindred THUS provide.