As if they'd run it down much better
By number of their feet in metre,

Or that its red did cause their spite,

Which made them draw in black and white.
Be that as 'twill, this is most true,

They were infpir'd by what they drew.
Let then fuch criticks know, my face
Gives them their comelinefs and grace:
Whilft line of face does bring

every

A line of grace to what they fing.
But yet, methinks, though with difgrace
Both to the picture and the face,

I fhould name them who do rehearse
The ftory of the picture-farce ;

The Squire, in French as hard as stone,
Or ftrong as rock, that 's all as one,
On face on cards is very brifk, Sirs,
Because on them you play at whisk, Sirs.
But much I wonder, why my crany

Should envy'd be by De-el-any:

And yet

much more, that half-name fake

Should join a party in the freak.
For fure I am it was not fafe

Thus to abuse his better half,
As I fhall prove you, Dan, to be,
Divifim and conjunctively.
For if Dan love not Sherry, can
Sherry be any thing to Dan?
This is the cafe whene'er you
Dan makes nothing of Sherry;

fee

Of

Or fhould Dan be by Sherry o'erta'en,
Then Dan would be poor Sherridane ;
"Tis hard then he should be decry'd
By Dan with Sherry by his fide.
But, if the cafe must be so hard,
That faces fuffer by a card,
Let criticks cenfure, what care I?
Back-biters only we defy,

Faces are free from injury.

MR. ROCHFORT'S REPLY.

OU fay your face is better hung

Yo

Than ours by what? by nose or tongue ?

In not explaining, you are wrong

to us, Sir.

Because we thus muft ftate the cafe,
That you have got a hanging face,
Th' untimely end 's a damn'd disgrace

of noofe, Sir.

But
yet be not caft down: I fee
A weaver will your hangman be;
You'll only hang in tapestry

with many.

And then the ladies, I suppose,
Will praise your longitude of nose,
For latent charms within your cloaths,

dear Danny.

Thos

"Thus will the fair of every age

From all parts make their pilgrimage,

Worship thy nose with pious rage

of love, Sir.

All their religion will be spent
About thy woven monument,

And not one orifon be sent

to Jove, Sir.

You the fam'd idol will become,
As gardens grac'd in ancient Rome,
By matrons worship'd in the gloom

O happy Dan! thrice happy fure!
Thy fame.for ever shall endure,
Who after death can love fecure

of night.

at fight.

So far I thought it was my duty
To dwell upon thy boafted beauty;
Now I'll proceed a word or two t'ye

in answer

To that part where you carry on
This paradox, that rock and stone
In your opinion are all one.

How can, Sir,

A man of reasoning fo profound

So ftupidly be run aground,

As things fo differently to confound

t' our fenfes ?

Except you judg'd them by the knock
Of near an equal hardy block:
Such an experimental stroke

convinces.

Then might you be, by dint of reafon,
A proper judge on this occafion;
'Gainst feeling there's no difputation,

is granted.、

Therefore to thy fuperior wit,
Who made the trial, we fubmit;
Thy head to prove the truth of it

we wanted.

In one affertion you 're to blame,
Where Dan and Sherry 's made the fame,
Endeavouring to have your name

refin'd, Sir.

You'll fee moft grofsly you mistook,
If you confult your spelling-book,
(The better half you say you took)

you'll find, Sir,

Then, Sir, your choice will never do
Therefore I've turn'd, my friend, on you

the tables.

DR.

DR. DELANY'S REPLY.

ASSIST me, my Mufe, whilft I labour to limn him :
Credite, Pifones, ifti tabulæ perfimilem.

You look and you write with fo different a gracé,
That I envy your verse, though I did not your face.
And to him that thinks rightly, there's reafon enough,
Cause one is as fmooth as the other is rough.

But much I'm amaz'd you should think my defign
Was to rhyme down your nofe, or your harlequin grin,
Which you yourself wonder the de'el fhould malign.
And if 'tis fo ftrange, that your monsterfhip's crany
Should be envy'd by him, much lefs by Delany.
Though I own to
o you, when I confider it ftri&ter,
I envy the painter, although not the picture.
And juftly fhe 's envy'd, fince a fiend of Hell
Was never drawn right but by her and Raphael.
Next, as to the charge, which you tell us is true,
That we were infpir'd by the subject we drew.
Infpir'd we were, and well, Sir, you knew it,
Yet not by your nofe, but the fair-one that drew it:
Had your nose been the Muse, we had ne'er been infpir'd,
Though perhaps it might juftly've been faid we were fir'd.
As to the divifion of words in your staves,

Like my countryman's horn-comb, into three halves,
I meddle not with 't, but prefume to make merry,
You call'd Dan one half, and t'other half Sherry
Now if Dan's a half, as you call 't o'er and o'er,
Then it can't be deny'd that Sherry's two more.
VOL. I.

R

For