By rats, alas! the manufcript is eat,
cruel banquet! which we all regret.
Bavius, thy labours must this work restore;
May thy good-will be equal to thy power!
To. Mr. ADRIAN DRIFT, 17084
WO mice, dear boy, of genteel fashion,.
And (what is more) good education,
Frolic and gay, in infant years,
Equally fhar'd their parents' cares.
The fire of these two babes (poor creature!)
Paid his laft debt to human nature;
A wealthy widow left behind,
Four babes, three males, one female kind.
The fire being under-ground and bury'd,
"Twas thought his spouse would foon have marry'd;
Matches-propos'd, and numerous fuitors,
Moft tender husbands, careful tutors,
She modeftly refus'd; and shew'd
She'd be a mother to her brood.
Mother! dear mother! that endearing thought,
Has thousand and ten thousand fancies brought.
Tell me, oh! tell me, (thou art now above)
How to defcribe thy true maternal love,
Thy early pangs, thy growing anxious cares,
Thy flattering hopes, thy fervent pious prayers,.
Thy doleful days and melancholy nights,
Cloyster'd from common joys and just delights :
How thou didst conftantly in private mourn,
And wash with daily tears thy spouse's urn;
How it employ'd your thoughts and lucid time,
That your young offspring might to honour climb;
How your
firft care, by numerous griefs opprest,
Under the burden funk, and went to reft;
How your dear darling, by confumption's wafte,
Breath'd her laft piety into your breast;
How you, alas! tir'd with your pilgrimage,
Bow'd down your head, and dy'd in good old age.
Though not infpir'd, oh! may I never be
Forgetful of my pedigree, or thee !
Ungrateful howfoe'er, may n't I forget
To pay this fmall, yet tributary debt!
And when we meet at GOD's tribunal throne,
Own me, I pray thee, for a pious fon.
But why all this? Is this your fable?
Believe me, Mat, it seems a babble;
If you will let me know th' intent on't,
Go to your Mice, and make an end on't.
Well then, dear brother, -
As fure as Hudi's fword could fwaddle,
Two Mice were brought up in one cradle;
Well bred, I think, of equal port,
One for the gown, one for the court :
They parted (did they fo, an't please you ?)
Yes, that they did (dear Sir) to ease you.
One went to Holland, where they huff folk,
T'other to vend his wares in Suffolk.
(That Mice have travel'd in old times,
Horace and Prior tell in rhymes,
Those two great wonders of their ages,
Superior far to all the fages!)
Many days past, and many a night,
Ere they could gain each other's fight;
At laft, in weather cold, not fultry,
They met at the Three Cranes in Poultry.
After much bufs and great grimace
Much chat arofe, what had been done,
What might before next summer's sun ;
Much faid of France, of Suffolk's goodness,
The gentry's loyalty, mob's rudeness.
That ended, o'er a charming bottle,
They enter'd on this tittle-tattle:
Quoth Suffolk, by pre-eminence
In years, though (God knows) not in sense;
All's gone, dear brother, only we
Remain to raise posterity;
Marry you, brother; I'll go down,
Sell nouns and verbs, and lie alone;
May you ne'er meet with feuds or babble,
May olive-branches crown your table!
Somewhat I'll fave, and for this end,
To prove a brother and a friend.
What I propofe is juft, I fwear it ;
Or may I perish, by this claret!
The dice are thrown, chufe this or that
('Tis all alike to honest Mat);
I'll take then the contrary part,
And propagate with all my heart.
After fome thought, fome Portuguese *,
Some wine, the younger thus replies:
Fair are your words, as fair your carriage,
Let me be free, drudge you in marriage;
'Get me a boy call'd Adrian,
Trust me, I'll do for 't what I can.
Home went well pleas'd the Suffolk tony, >Heart free from care, as purfe from money; He got a lufty fqualling boy,
(Doubtless the dad's and mamma's joy).
In short, to make things fquare and even,
Adrian he nam'd was by Dick Stephen.
Mat's debt thus paid, he now enlarges,
And fends you in a bill of charges,
A cradle, brother, and a basket,
(Granted as foon as e'er I afk it);
A coat not of the smallest scantling,
Frocks, ftockings, fhoes, to grace the bantling ;
These too were fent (or I'm no drubber)
Nay, add to these the fine gum-rubber;
Yet thefe won't do, fend t' other coat,
For, faith, the firft's not worth a groat,
Dismally shrunk, as herrings shotten,
Suppos'd originally rotten.
Pray let the next be each way longer,
Of stuff more durable, and stronger;
Send it next week, if you are able.
By this time, Sir, you know the Fable.
From this, and letters of the fame make,
You'll find what 'tis to have a name-fake.
Cold and hard times, Sir, here, (believe it).
I've loft my curate too, and grieve it.
At Eafter, for what I can fee,
(A time of ease and vacancy)
If things but alter, and not undone,
I'll kiss your hands, and vifit London.
Molly fends greeting; fo do I, Sir;
Send a good coat, that's all; good-by, Sir.
First printed in the EXAMINER, 1710
PHINX was a monfter that would eat
Whatever stranger she could get;
Unless his ready wit difclos'd
The fubtle Riddle fhe propos'd.
Oedipus was refolv'd to go,
And try what strength of parts would do.
Says Sphinx, On this depends your fate;
Tell me what animal is that,
Which has four feet at morning bright,
Has two at noon, and three at night?
"Tis Man, faid he, who, weak by nature,
At first creeps, like his fellow-creature,
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