Thus merciless Hannah ran on in her talk,
Till she heard the dean call, "Will your ladyship walk?"
Her ladyship answers, "I'm just coming down:"
Then, turning to Hannah, and forcing a frown,
Although it was plain in her heart she was glad,
Cry'd, "Hussy, why sure the wench is gone mad!
How could these chimeras get into your brains? —
Come hither, and take this old gown for your pains.
But the dean, if this secret should come to his ears,
Will never have done with his gibes and his jeers:
For your life, not a word of the matter I charge ye:
Give me but a barrack, a fig for the clergy."
TO DEAN SWIFT
BY SIR ARTHUR ACHESON.
1728.
GOOD cause have I to sing and vapour,
For I am landlord to the drapier:
He, that of every ear's the charmer,
Now condescends to be my farmer.
And grace my villa with his strains;
Lives such a bard on British plains?
No; not in all the British court;
For none but witlings there resort,
Whose names and works (though dead) are made
Immortal by the Dunciad;
And, sure as monument of brass,
Their fame to future time shall pass;
