Thefe, to the church they fight for ftrangers, Have faith in nothing but her dangers; While those, a more believing people, Can fwallow all things but a steeple. But I, my Lord, who, as you know, Care little how these matters go, And ufual joys of country life, Of its diverfions, or its care; Nor reckon wonderful inviting, A quarter-feffions, or cock-fighting, With sheep to rot, and cows to die : Militia Militia fcarlet edg'd with gold, Or the white staff high fheriffs hold; The judge's bow, the bishop's bleffing; In the dull feast of neighb'ring knight, In white gloves meets you at the door, First makes you fick, and then with feeding: Or if, with ceremony cloy'd, You would next time fuch plagues avoid, And vifit without previous notice, JOHN, JOHN, a coach !-I can't think who 'tis, My lady cries, who fpies your coach, Ere you the avenue approach; Lord, how unlucky!—washing day! These Thefe difficulties all o'ercome, We reach at length the drawing-room; To get clean fleeves to hide her smock; The cook-maid raves for want of butter, Pigs fqueak, fowls scream, and green geese flutter. The top one graces, one each fide; And by and by, the second courfe A falver A falver then to church and king, The cloth remov❜d, the toafts go round, And as the knight more tipfy waxes, At laft the ruddy fun quite funk, The coachman tolerably drunk, We home return, a wond'rous token Of Heaven's kind care, with limbs unbroken. With many days like this, or dinners! Nor business, nor diverfions please me: These earlieft pleafe, and lateft cloy. Sometimes Sometimes o'er diftant climes I ftray, By guides experienc'd taught the way; From frozen LAPLAND to PERU; Bound o'er rough feas, and mountains bare, Yet ne'er forfake my elbow chair. Sometimes fome fam'd hiftorian's pen Recalls paft ages back agen, Where all I fee, thro' ev'ry page, Is but how men, with fenfelefs rage, They fight fo long, it would amaze ye: With reprobation abfolute; |