But thy merit is thy failing,
And thy raillery is railing.
Thus with talents well endued
To be scurrilous and rude;
When you pertly raise your snout,
Fleer and gibe, and laugh and flout;
This among Hibernian asses
For sheer wit and humour passes.
Thus indulgent Chloe, bit,
Swears you have a world of wit.
EPIGRAM FROM THE FRENCH[1]
Who can believe with common sense,
A bacon slice gives God offence;
Or, how a herring has a charm
Almighty vengeance to disarm?
Wrapp'd up in majesty divine,
Does he regard on what we dine?
[Footnote 1: A French gentleman dining with some company on a fast-day,
called for some bacon and eggs. The rest were very angry, and reproved
him for so heinous a sin; whereupon he wrote the following lines, which
are translated above:
"Peut-on croire avec bon sens
Qu'un lardon le mil en colere,
Ou, que manger un hareng,
C'est un secret pour lui plaire?
En sa gloire envelope,
Songe-t-il bien de nos soupes?"--_H_.]
EPIGRAM[1]
As Thomas was cudgell'd one day by his wife,
He took to the street, 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 honour so nice,
Too wise to take counsel, too proud to take warning,
That he sent to all three a challenge next morning.
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