XI. Should you a Rat to madness teize, XII. And so this Ox in frantic mood The mob turn'd tail, and he pursued, But had his belly full. XIII. Old Nick's astride the beast, 'tis clear Old Nicholas to a tittle! But all agree, he'd disappear, Would but the parson venture near, And thro' his teeth * right o'er the steer, Squirt out some fasting spittle. According to the superstition of the West Countries, XIV. Achilles was a warrior fleet, The Trojans he could worry- The mob fled hurry-skurry. XV. Thro' gardens, lanes, and fields new-plough'd, He plung'd, and toss'd, and bellow'd loud, To see this helter skelter crowd, That had more wrath than courage. if you meet the Devil, you may either cut him in half with a straw, or you may cause him instantly to disap pear by spitting over his horns. XVI. Alas! to mend the breaches wide XVII. But here once more to view did pop The man that kept his senses. And now he cried-" Stop, neighbours! stop! "The Ox is mad! I would not swop, 66 No, not a school-boy's farthing top, "For all the parish fences. XVIII. "The Ox is mad! Ho! Dick, Bob, Mat! XIX. "A lying dog! just now he said, "Let's break his presbyterian head !"— XX. As thus I sat in careless chat, With the morning's wet newspaper, Our pursy Woollen-draper. XXI. And so my Muse perforce drew bit, "Well, have you heard?". "No! not a whit." "What, ha'nt you heard?" '-“Come out with it-" "That Tierney votes for Mister Pitt, "And Sheridan's recanted." LINES to SARAH. Now Spring's ambrosial fingers pour For as I stray, to Fancy's eye The peerless graces that entwine The lucid dew-drop twinkling nigh, The vale-nurst lilly's bell so white, |