"
[Footnote 1: Mr. Lindsay.--_F_.]
[Footnote 2: See Clarendon's "History of the Rebellion."]
[Footnote 3: In his "History of his own Time," and "History of the
Reformation."]
[Footnote 4: An enthusiast and a freethinker. For a full account of him,
see "Dictionary of National Biography." His later works on the Miracles
caused him to be prosecuted, fined, and imprisoned. He died in
1733.--_W.E.B._]
[Footnote 5: In the county of Armagh.--_F_.]
ON BURNING A DULL POEM
1729
An ass's hoof alone can hold
That poisonous juice, which kills by cold.
Methought, when I this poem read,
No vessel but an ass's head
Such frigid fustian could contain;
I mean, the head without the brain.
The cold conceits, the chilling thoughts,
Went down like stupifying draughts;
I found my head begin to swim,
A numbness crept through every limb.
In haste, with imprecations dire,
I threw the volume in the fire;
When, (who could think?) though cold as ice,
It burnt to ashes in a trice.
How could I more enhance its fame?
Though born in snow, it died in flame.
AN EXCELLENT NEW BALLAD
OR, THE TRUE ENGLISH DEAN[1] TO BE HANGED FOR A RAPE.
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