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A Tortoise heard his vain oration,
'Twas done and gone, all fair, a bet, Judges prepar'd, and distance set.
The scamp'ring Hare outstript the wind, The creeping Tortoise laggʻd behind, And scarce had pass'd a single pole, When Puss had almost reach'd the goal. “ Friend Tortoise," quoth the jeering Hare, “ Your burthen's more than you can bear, " To help your speed, it were as well • That I should ease you of your
shell: “ Jog on a little faster prythee, “ I'll take a nap, and then be with thee.". So said, so done, and safely sure, For say, what conquest more secure ? Whene'er he wak'd (that's all that's in it) He could o'ertake him in a minute.
The Tortoise heard his taunting jeer,
On to the goal securely crept,
The bets were won, the Hare awake, When thus the victor Tortoise spake. “ Puss, tho' I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always done by starts. “ You may deride my aukward pace, “ But slow and steady wins the race.”
Venus, of laughter queen and love, The greatest demirep above, Who scorn'd restriction, hated custom, Knew her own sex too well to trust 'em, Proceeded on the noble plan, At any rate, to have her man; Look'd on decorum, as mere trash, And liv'd like *** and ***, From Paphos, where they her revere As much as we do Cælia here, Or from Cythera, where her altars Are deck'd with daggers, true-love halters, Garters yclept, and other trophies, Which prove that man in love an oaf is, According to appointment, came To see CÆCILIA, tuneful dame, Whose praise by Dryden's Ode is grown Bright and immortal as his own, And who hath been for many years The chief directress of the spheres.
Thomas, who rode behind the car,
But, truth to say, I cannot tell
Methinks I hear the reader cry-
Poor low-liv'd creature! I suppose,
Thinking that Bell and Knocker too
But had our servants no more sense,
For if there was not to be found Some wholesome difference of sound, But the same rap foretold the approach Of him who walk'd, or rode in coach, A poor relation now and then, Might to my Lord admittance gain, When his good Lordship hop'd to see Some rascal of his own degree; And, what is more unhappy still, The stupid wretch who brings a bill, Might pass thro' all the motley tribe, As free as one, who brings a bribe.