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The gay coquet, who ogles all the day,
* This Epilogue was given in M.S. by Dr. Goldsmith to Dr. Percy ; (now Bishop of Dromore;) but for what comedy it was intended is not remembered.
HAUNCH OF VENISON,
LORD CL A R E.
THANKS, my lord, for your venison, for finer or
fatter Never rang'd in a forest, or smoak’d in a platter; The haunch was a picture for painters to study, The fat was so white, and the lean was so ruddy; Though my stomach was sharp, I could scarce help
regretting, To spoil such a delicate picture by eating ; I had thoughts, in my chambers, to place it in view, To be shown to my friends as a piece of virtu; As in some Irish houses, where things are so so, One gammon of bacon hangs up for a show : But, for eating a rasher of what they take pride in, They'd as soon think of eating the pan it is fry'd in.
But hold—let me pause—don't I hearyou pronounce,
But, my lord, it's no borince: I protest in my turn, It's a truth—and your lordship may ask Mr. Burh.* To go on with my tale---as I gaz'd on the haunch, I thought of a friend that was trusty and staunch, So I cut it, and sent it to Reynolds undrest, To paint it, or eat it, just as he lik'd best, Of the neck and the breast I had next to dispose: 'Twas a neck and a breast that might rival Monroe's: But in parting with these I was puzzled again, With the how, and the who, and the where, and the
when. There's H-d, and Cấy, and H-rth, and H-ff, I think they love venison--I know they love beef. There's my countryman Higgins-Oh!let him alone, For making a blunder, or picking a bone. But hang it--to poets who seldom can eat, Your very good mutton's a very good treat; Such dainties to them their health it might hurt, It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt. While thus I debated, in reverie center'd, An acquaintance, a friend as he call'd himself, en
ter'd; An under-bred, fine-spoken fellow was he, And he smil'd as he look'd at the yenison and me.
* Lord Clare's nephew.