The veal is such carrion,
A dog would be weary on.
All this I have felt,
For I live on a smelt.
VI. ANOTHER, AT CHESTER
The walls of this town
Are full of renown,
And strangers delight to walk round 'em:
But as for the dwellers,
Both buyers and sellers,
For me, you may hang 'em, or drown 'em.
VII. ANOTHER
WRITTEN UPON A WINDOW WHERE THERE WAS NO WRITING BEFORE
Thanks to my stars, I once can see
A window here from scribbling free!
Here no conceited coxcombs pass,
To scratch their paltry drabs on glass;
Nor party fool is calling names,
Or dealing crowns to George and James.
VIII. ON SEEING VERSES WRITTEN UPON WINDOWS AT INNS
The sage, who said he should be proud
Of windows in his breast,[1]
Because he ne'er a thought allow'd
That might not be confest;
His window scrawl'd by every rake,
His breast again would cover,
And fairly bid the devil take
The diamond and the lover.
[Footnote 1: See on this "Notes and Queries," 10th S., xii,
497.--_W. E. B._]
IX. ANOTHER
By Satan taught, all conjurors know
Your mistress in a glass to show,
And you can do as much:
In this the devil and you agree;
None e'er made verses worse than he,
And thine, I swear, are such.
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