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 G--d, you lie,
Quoth Ross, for I'll be sworn 'twas I.
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, "Hist. Nat.," lib. x, 67; lib. xxix.
As mastiff dogs, in modern phrase, are
Call'd _Pompey, Scipio_, and _Caesar;_
As pies and daws are often styl'd
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 hi'roglyphics fit
To show their valour, strength, or wit:
For what is understood by _fame_,
Besides the getting of a _name?_
But, e'er since men invented guns,
A diff'rent way their fancy runs:
To paint a hero, we inquire
For something that will conquer _fire.
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