In books of geo-graphy

He made the maps to flutter;

A river or a sea

Was to him a dish of tea,

And a kingdom bread and butter,

But if some mawkish potion
Might chance to overdose him,
To check its rage

He took a page

Of logic-to compose him.

A Trap, in haste and anger,

Was bought, you need not doubt on 't; And such was the gin,

Were a lion once got in,

He could not, I think, get out on't.

With cheese, not books, 'twas baited;
The fact-I'll not belie it-
Since none-I tell you that-
Whether scholar or rat,

Minds books when he has other diet.

But more of Trap and bait, sir,
Why should I sing of either?
Since the rat, who knew the sleight,
Came in the dead of night,

And dragg'd them away together.

Both Trap and bait were vanish'd
Through a fracture in the flooring,
Which though so trim

It now may seem,

Had then- —a dozen or more in.

Then answer this, ye sages!

Nor deem I mean to wrong ye,

Had the rat, which thus did seize on
The Trap, less claim to reason

Than many a scull among ye?

Dan Prior's mice, I own it,
Were vermin of condition;
But this rat, who merely learn'd
What rats alone concern'd,
Was the greater politician.

That England's topsy-turvy
Is clear from these mishaps, sir;
Since Traps, we may determine,
Will no longer take our vermin,
But vermin2 take our Traps, sir.

Let sophs, by rats infested,

Then trust in cats to catch them,
Lest they grow as learn'd as we
In our studies, where, d'ye see,
No mortal sits to watch them.

Good luck betide our captains,
Good luck betide our cats, sir!

And grant that the one

May quell the Spanish Don,

And the other destroy our rats, sir!

2 Written at the time of the Spanish depredations.

ON MR. C—.

OF KIDDERMINSTER'S POETRY.

THY verses, friend! are Kidderminster' stuff, And I must own—you've measured out enough.

TO THE VIRTUOSOS.

HAIL, curious wights! to whom so fair
The form of mortal flies is;

Who deem those grubs beyond compare,
Which common sense despises.

Whether o'er hill, morass, or mound,
You make your sportsman-sallies;
Or that your prey, in gardens found,
Is urged through walks and alleys;

Yet in the fury of the chase
No slope could e'er retard
you;
Bless'd if one fly repay the race,
Or painted wing reward you.

Fierce as Camilla2 o'er the plain

Pursued the glittering stranger, Still eyed the purple's pleasing stain, And knew not fear nor danger.

1 Kidderminster, famous for a coarse woollen manufacture.

2 See Virgil.

'Tis you dispense the favourite meat

To Nature's filmy people;

Know what conserves they choose to eat,
And what liqueurs to tipple:

;

And if her brood of insects dies,
You sage assistance lend her
Can stoop to pimp for amorous flies,
And help them to engender.

'Tis you protect their pregnant hour;
And, when the birth's at hand,
Exerting your obstetric power,
Prevent a mothless land.

Yet, oh! howe'er your towering view
Above gross objects rises,
Whate'er refinements you pursue,
Hear what a friend advises :

A friend who, weigh'd with yours, must prize
Domitian's idle passion,

That wrought the death of teasing flies,
But ne'er their propagation.

Let Flavia's eyes more deeply warm,
Nor thus your hearts determine-
To slight dame Nature's fairest form,
And sigh for Nature's vermin:

And speak with some respect of beaux,
Nor more as triflers treat them ;
'Tis better learn to save one's clothes
Than cherish moths that eat them.

THE EXTENT OF COOKERY.

Aliusque et idem.

Another and the same.

WHEN Tom to Cambridge first was sent, A plain brown bob he wore,

Read much, and look'd as though he meant To be a fop no more.

See him to Lincoln's-Inn repair,

His resolutions flag,

He cherishes a length of hair,

And tucks it in a bag.

Nor Coke nor Salkeld he regards,

But gets into the House;
And soon a judge's rank rewards
His pliant votes and bows.

Adieu, ye bobs! ye bags! give place;
Full bottoms come instead:

Good Lord! to see the various ways
Of dressing a calf's head!