We may carve for others thus;
And let others carve for us;
To discourse, and to attend,
Is, to help yourself and friend.
Conversation is but carving;
Carve for all, yourself is starving:
Give no more to every guest,
Than he's able to digest;
Give him always of the prime;
And but little at a time.
Carve to all but lust enough:
Let them neither starve nor stuff:
And, that you may have your due,
Let your neighbours carve for you.
[This comparison will hold,
Could it well in rhyme be told,
How conversing, listening, thinking,
Justly may resemble drinking;
For a friend a glass you fill,
What is this but to instill[1]?]
To conclude this long essay;
Pardon, if I disobey;
Nor against my natural vein,
Treat you in heroick strain.
I, as all the parish knows,
Hardly can be grave in prose:
Still to lash, and lashing smile,
Ill befits a lofty style.
From the planet of my birth
I encounter vice wdth mirth.
Wicked ministers of state
I can easier scorn than hate;
- ↑ These six lines are wanting in some editions.
