Classic Poem

Glutted with Spoils from lashing Skill,
This Hector, — Bully, — what you will,
Retir'd from Noise, and School-boy's Strife,
To live at Ease with pigmy Wife .
At Ease? cries Candour , standing by,
That cannot be, 'twixt You and I;
Though he's of Patagonian Size,
A very Tow'r to mod'rate Eyes,
Yet let me tell you, she's a Soul,
Superior far to his Controul:
How have I laugh'd at daily School ,
To hear this Hen-peck'd Giant-Tool,
Bully and rave with such an Air,
When seated in his lordly Chair,
As chill'd each puny Boy with Fear.
But when at Home, as mild as Lamb,
Bleating for Loss of suckling Dam;
There, like a Dutchman, smoaking sit,
As void of Breeding — as of Wit!
B URY'S a wholesome, snug Retreat,
(I mean except the Risby-Street )
'Twas here my Mother (bless the Time)
Produc'd to Light this Babe of Rhyme;
Our native Soil how sweetly fair,
Such kind Attraction in the Air,
But this our English Montpellier.
No wonder then, that Pedant Elf,
Who dearly loves his dirty Self ,
Shou'd here reside — expell'd the School, —
We'll say resign'd — to please the Fool.
Let other Pastors mind their Church,
He's more refin'd — for in the Lurch
(In spite of worthy Neighbour B URCH )
My Hargrave 's left from Year to Year,
This Rev'rend Hobnail comes not near.

Sweet, humble Bob , apply this Hint,
Or be assur'd when next I print,
I'll goad your lazy dronish Sides,
And tell you further Truths besides:
At present, let this Dose suffice;
For tho' we cannot make you wise,
Still it may work some trifling Good,
Apply'd by Patron U NDERWOOD .