Sir, I thank you for your comedies, Against the hipps the surest remedies. Because Pareus wrote but sorrily His notes, I'll read Lambinus thoroughly; And then I shall be stoutly set agog To challenge every Irish pedagogue. I like your nice epistle critical, Which does in threefold rhymes so witty fall. Upon the comic drama and tragedy, Your notion's right, but verses maggotty. 'Tis just an hour since I heard a man swear it, The Devil himself could hardly answer it. As for your friend, the sage Euripides, I do believe you give him the slip a-days; But mum for that -- pray call a-Saturday And dine with me; you can't a better day. I'll give you nothing but a mutton chop, Some nappy mellowed ale with rotten hop, A pint of wine as good as Falern, Which we, masters, God knows, all earn. We'll have a friend or two at table, Right honest men, for few are come at-able. Then when our liquor makes us talkative, We'll to the fields and take a walk at eve. Because I am troubled much with laziness, These rhymes I've chosen for their easiness. |