There, and there only should commence The path to knowledge, wit and sense, For there the young ingenious mind, The road to excellence will find, And in the flowery walks of science, May bid disgraceful birch defiance; But who, a novice there, aspires,
Must work his way through thorns and briars, And when the craggy steeps are past, May skulk a useless drone at last; Nay, though he get A. B. at College, Be stopt of his degree in knowledge.
Then cultivate your native soil, The harvest will repay your toil; And be it every parent's care,
To plant the seeds of goodness there.
The petty ambition of pretending to superior skill, in other languages, seems pleasantly and aptly ridiculed in the following anecdote :
One of our modern modishly-bred ladies, boasting of her proficiency in the FRENCH tongue, asserted she understood and spoke it better than she did English; and for the truth, appealed to a French lady in company. The adroit Parisian very candidly and sensibly replied, "I am not, my dear "madam, sufficiently acquainted with the English language "to determine; but I should be ashamed and sorry to say, "I spoke any language half so well as my own!"
From A Collection of Poems, by Samuel Whyte, Dublin, 1792.
Died in Bunhill Fields, London, November 8, 1674.
ARODIES of Milton's Poems are neither numerous, nor particularly amusing; the best known, and most admired, is undoubtedly "The Splendid Shilling," written (in blank verse) about 1700, by John Philips. A biography of this author is included in Dr. Johnson's "Lives of the Poets." He was born at Bampton in Oxfordshire, on December 30, 1676. Being of a delicate constitution his chief amusement was reading, and as Milton was his favorite author, he chose his style for a parody, whilst he found a subject in the character of an impecunious college friend, who knew not how to keep a shilling in his pocket. "The Splendid Shilling" has one great charm, rare in such works, it is a burlesque in which nobody is ridiculed. John Philips died on February 15, 1708, and was buried in Hereford Cathedral. There is a tablet to his memory in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey, which chronicles
But with his Friends, when nightly Mifts arife, To Juniper's, or Magpye, or Town-Hall* repairs; Where mindful of the Nymph, whose wanton Eye, Transfix'd his Soul, and kindled Amorous flames,. Chloe or Phillis; he each Circling Glass Wifheth her Health, and Joy, and equal Love. Mean while he Smoaks, and Laughs at Merry Tale, Or Pun ambiguous, or Conundrum quaint. But I whom griping Penury furrounds, And Hunger, fure Attendant upon Want, With fcanty Offals, and fmall acid Tiff (Wretched Repast) my meagre Corps sustain: Then Solitary walk, or doze at home In Garret vile, and with a warming puff Regale chill'd Fingers, or from Tube as black As Winter's Chimney, or well-polifh'd Jett, Exhale Mundungus, ill-perfuming Smoak. Not blacker Tube, nor of a fhorter Size Smoaks Cambro-Britain (vers'd in Pedigree, Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur, ancient Kings, Full famous in Romantick tale) when he O're many a craggy Hill, and fruitlefs Cliff, Upon a Cargo of fam'd Ceftrian Cheese, High over-fhadowing rides, with a defign To vend his Wares, or at the Arvonian Mart, Or Maridunum, or the ancient Town Hight Morgannumia, or where Vaga's Stream Encircles Ariconium, fruithful Soil,
Whence flow Nectareous Wines, that well may vye With Maffic, Setian, or Renown'd Falern. Thus while my joylefs Hours I lingring spend, With Looks demure, and filent pace a Dunn, Horrible Monfter! hated by Gods and Men, To my aerial Citadel ascends;
With Vocal Heel thrice Thund'ring at my Gates, With hideous Accent thrice he calls; I know The Voice ill boding, and the solemn Sound; What should I do, or whither turn? amaz'd Confounded, to the dark recess I fly
Of Woodhole; ftreight my briftling Hairs erect My Tongue forgets her Faculty of Speech, So horrible he seems; his faded Brow Entrench'd with many a Frown, and conic Beard, And fpreading Band admir'd by Modern Saint Difaftrous acts forebode; in his Right hand Long Scrolls of Paper folemnly he waves, With Characters and Figures dire infcribed Grievous to mortal Eye, (ye Gods avert
Such plagues from righteous men) behind him ftalks Another Monfter, not unlike himfelf,
Of Afpect fullen, by the Vulgar called
A Catchpole, whofe polluted hands the Gods With Force incredible, and Magic Charms Erft have indu'd, if he his ample Palm Should haply on ill-fated Shoulder lay Of Debtor, ftreight his Body to the touch Obfequious (as Whilom Knights were wont) To fome enchanted Caftle is convey'd,
Where Gates impregnable, and coercive Charms In durance vile detain him, till in form Of Money, Pallas fet the Captive free. Beware, ye Debtors, when ye walk, beware, Be circumfpect; oft with infidious Ken, This Caitiff eyes your fteps aloof, and oft Lies perdue in a Creek or gloomy Cave, Prompt to enchant fome inadvertent wretch With his unhallow'd Touch. So (Poets fing) Grimalkin to Domeftick Vermin fworn An everlafting Foe, with watchful eye,
*Celebrated Oxford Ale-houses.
Lyes nightly brooding ore a chinky gap, Protending her fell claws, to thoughtlefs Mice Sure ruin. So her difembowell'd Web The Spider in a Hall or Kitchin fpreads, Obvious to vagrant Flies; fhe fecret ftands, Within her woven Cell; the Humming Prey Regardlefs of their Fate, rufh on the toils Inextricable, nor will ought avail Their Arts nor Arms, nor Shapes of lovely Hue, The Wafp infidious, and the buzzing Drone, And Butterfly proud of expanded wings Diftinct with Gold, entangled in her Snares, Ufelefs refiftance make : with eager ftrides She tow'ring flies to her expected Spoils; Then with envenom'd Jaws the vital Blood Drinks of reluctant Foes, and to her Cave Their bulky Carcaffes triumphant drags.
So pafs my days. But when Nocturnal Shades This World invelop, and th'inclement Air Perfwades Men to repel benumming Frofts, With pleafant Wines, and crackling blaze of Wood; Me lonely fitting, nor the glimmering Light Of make-weight Candle, nor the joyous talk Of lovely friends delights; diftrefs'd, forlorn, Amidft the horrors of the tedious night, Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal Thoughts My anxious Mind; or fometimes mournful Verfe Indite, and fing of Groves and Myrtle Shades, Or defperate Lady near a purling stream, Or Lover pendant on a Willow-tree; Mean while I labour with eternal drought, And reftlefs wifh, in vain, my parched Throat Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repofe ; But if a Slumber haply do's invade
My weary Limbs, my Fancy ftill awake, Longing for Drink, and eager in my Dream, Tipples imaginary Pots of Ale.
Awake, I find the fetled Thirft
Still gnawing, and the pleafant Phantom curfe.
Thus do I live from Pleafure quitte debarr d, Nor taft the Fruits that the Sun's genial Rays Mature, John-apple nor the Downy Peach, Nor Walnut in rough-furrow'd Coat fecure, Nor Medlar Fruit delicious in decay; Afflictions great, yet greater ftill remain, My Galligaskings that have long withftood The Winter's Fury, and encroaching Frofts By time subdu'd, (what will not time fubdue!) A horrid Chafm difclofe, with Orifice Wide difcontinuous; at which the Winds Eurus and Aufter, and the dreadful force Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian Waves, Tumultuous enter with dire chilling Blafts, Portending Agues. Thus a well-fraught Ship Long fail'd fecure, or through the Egean Deep, Or the Ionian, till Crufing near
The Lilybean Shoar, with hideous Crufh On Scylla or Charibdis dangerous Rocks
She ftrikes rebounding, whence the fhatter'd Oak, So fierce a Shock unable to withftand, Admits the Sea, in at the gaping Side,
The crouding Waves gufh with impetuous Rage, Refiftlefs overwhelming; Horrors feize
The Mariners, Death in their eyes appears,
They ftare, they lave, they pump, they fwear, they pray. Vain Efforts, ftill the battering Waves rufh in Implacable, till delug'd by the foam,
The Ship finks found'ring in the vaft Abyfs.
SIR RICHARD STEELE, in "The Tatler," pronounced "The Splendid Shilling" to be the finest Burlesque Poem in the English language, and DR. JOHNSON praised it as an admirable imitation of the stately movement of Milton's blank verse, whilst OLIVER GOLDSMITH, in his Criticisms, says "This is reckoned the best parody of Milton in our language; it has been an hundred times imitated without success."
It is a pity that Dr. Goldsmith did not more particularly describe these imitations, as after much searching only about half a dozen have come to light, all of them somewhat old fashioned in subject and manner of treatment.
One of the best, written by Mr. Bramston (author of The Man of Taste, The Art of Politics etc.) was entitled The Crooked Sixpence, and may be found occasionally in old books of Comic Recitations, and Elegant Extracts. Unfortunately no "Elegant Extracts" can be taken from it suitable for the chaste pages of Parodies, for the poem relates to such a topic as might have afforded excellent material to Rabelais. or Chaucer, but which cannot be alluded to in our more refined times.
A few years after the publication of The Splendid Shilling, a small pamphlet appeared, entitled "WINE, A POEM. To which is added, Old ENGLAND'S New Triumph; or, the Battle of AUDENARD, A SONG." London: Printed and sold by H. Hills in Black-fryars, near the Water-Side, 1709. No author's name is given; the poem certainly deserves to be preserved, as an early and interesting imitation of Milton's blank verse. The song of the "Battle of Audenard" is not a parody.
Nulla placere diu, nec vivere carmina possunt, Quæ Scribuntur aquæ portoribus.
Epist 19, Lib. 1, Hor.
F Happiness Terrestrial, and the Source Whence human Pleasure flow, sing Heavenly Muse, Of sparkling juices, of the enliv'ning Grape, Whose quickning Taste adds Vigour to the Soul, Whose Sov'raign pow'r revives decaying Nature,
And thaws the frozen Blood of Hoary Age
A kindly Warmth diffusing, Youthful fires Gild his dim Eyes, and paint with ruddy hue His Wrizzled Visage, ghastly wan before: Cordial restorative to mortal Man
With copious Hand by bounteous Gods bestow'd.
Bacchus Divine, aid my advent'rous Song, That with no middle flight intends to soar. Inspir'd, Sublime on Pegaseon Wing By thee upborn, I draw Miltonic Air
When fumy Vapour clog our loaded Brows
With furrow'd Frowns, when stupid downcast Eyes Th' external Symptoms of remorse within, Our Grief express, or when in sullen Dumps
With Head Incumbent on Expanded Palm, Moaping we sit, in silent sorrow drown'd: Whether inviegling Hymen has trapan'd Th' unwary Youth, and ty'd the Gordian Knot Of jangling Wedlock Indissoluble ; Worried all Day by loud Zantippes Din, And when the gentle dew of sleep inclines, With slumb'rous Weight his Eye-lids She inflam'd With Uncloyed Lust, and Itch Insatiable, His stock exhausted, still yells on for more; Nor fail She to exalt him to the Stars, And fixt him there among the Branched Crew (Taurus, and Aries, and Capricorn,)
The greatest Monster of the Zodiac;
Or for the loss of Anxious Worldly Pelf Or Celia's scornful flights, and cold disdain Had check'd his Am'rous flame with coy repulse, The worst Events that mortals can befal; By cares depress'd in pensive Hypoish mood, With slowest pace, the tedious minutes Roll.
Thy charming sight, but much more charming Gust New Life incites, and warms our chilly Blood, Strait with pert Looks, we raise our drooping Fronts, And pour in chrystal pure, thy purer Juice, With cheerful Countenance and steady Hand Raise it Lip-high, then fix the spacious Rim Th' expecting Mouth, and now with grateful Tast, The ebbing Wine glides swiftly o're the Tongue, The circling Blood with quicker motion flies; Such is thy pow'rful influence, thou strait Dispell'dst those Clouds that lowring dark eclips'd To whilom Glories of our gladsom Face And dimpled Cheeks, and sparkling rolling Eyes, Thy cheering Virtues, and thy worth proclaim. So Mists and Exhalations that arise From Hills or streamy Lake, Dusky or Gray Prevail, till Phabus sheds Titanian Rays, And paints their Fleecy Skirts with shining Gold, Unable to resist the Foggy Damps
That veild the Surface of the verdant Fields, At the God's penetrating Beams disperse : The Earth again in former Beauty smiles, In gaudiest Livery drest, all Gay and Clear.
When disappointed Strephon meets Repulse, Scoff'd at, despised, in melancholick mood Joyless he wasts in sighs the lazy Hours, Till Reinforc't by thy Almighty Aid,
He Storms the Breach, and wins the Beauteous Fort.
To pay thee Homage, and receive thy Blessings, The British Mariner quits native shore,
And ventures through the tractless vast Abyss, Ploughing the Ocean, whilst the Upheav'd Oak With beaked Prow, Rides tilting o're the Waves; Shockt by Tempestuous jarring Winds she Rolls In Dangers Imminent, till she arrives
At those blest Climes, thou favour'st with thy presence.
Whether, at Lusitanian sultry Coasts, Or Lofty Teneriff, Palma, Ferro, Provence or at the Celtiberian Shores; With gazing Pleasure and Astonishment At Paradice, (Seat of our ancient sire,) He thinks himself arriv'd, the Purple Grape In largest Clusters Pendant, grace the Vines Innumerous, in Fields Grotesque and Wild They with Implicit Curles the Oak entwine, And load with Fruit Divine her spreading Boughs; Sight most delicious, not an Irksom Thought,
Or of left native Isle, or absent Friends, Or dearest Wife, or tender sucking Babe, His kindly treach'rous mem'ry now presents The Jovial God has left no room for Cares.
Celestial Liquor, thou that didst inspire Maro and Flaccus, and the Grecian Bard, With lofty Numbers, and Heroic strains Unparalell'd, with Eloquence profound, And Arguments Convincive didst enforce Fam'd Tully, and Demosthenes Renown'd Ennius first fam'd in Latin Song, in vain Drew Heliconian Streams, Ungrateful whet To Jaded Muse, and oft' with vain attempt Heroic Acts in Flagging Numbers dull With pains essay'd but abject still and low, His Unrecruited Muse could never reach The mighty Theme, till from the Purple Font Of bright Lenaan fire, Her barren drought
He quench'd, and with inspiring Nect'rous Juice, Her drooping spirits chear'd, aloft she towres Born on stiff Pennons, and of Wars alarms, And Trophies won, in loftiest Numbers sings: 'Tis thou the Hero's breast to Martial Acts, And resolution bold, and ardour brave
Excit'st, thou check'st Inglorious lolling ease, And sluggish minds with gen'rous fires inflam'st, O thou, that first my quickned Soul engaged, Still with thy Aid assist me, What is dark Illumin, What is low raise and support That to the height of this great Argument, Thy Universal Sway o'er all the World, In everlasting Numbers, like the Theme
I may record, and sing thy matchless Worth.
Had the Oxonion Bard thy Praise rehears'd, His Muse had yet retain'd her wonted height; Such as of late o'er Blenheim Field she soar'd Aerial, now in Ariconian Bogs
She lies Inglorious floundring like her Theme Languid and Faint, and on damp Wing emerg'd In acid Juice, in vain attempts to rise.
With what sublimest Joy from noisy Town,
At Rural Seat, Lucretelus retir'd,
Flaccus, untained by perplexing Cares, Where the white Poplar, and the lofty Pine
Join Neighbouring Boughs, sweet Hospitable shade Creating from Phabean Rays secure,
A cool Retreat, with few well chosen Friends On flowry Mead Recumbent, spent the Hours In Mirth Innocuous, and Alternate Verse! With Roses Interwoven, Poplar Wreaths Their Temples bind, dress of Sylvestrian Gods: Choicest Nectarian Juice Crown'd largest Bowls, And over look'd the lid, alluring sight,
Of fragrant Scent, attractive, tast Divine ! Whether from Formain Grape depress'd, Falern Or Setin, Massic, Gauran, or Sabine,
Lesbian or Cacuban the chearing Bowl
Mov'd briskly round, and spur'd their heightened wit To sing Mecana praise their Patron kind.
But we, not as our Pristrin sires repair
T' umbrageous Grot or Vale, but when the Sun Faintly from Western Skies his Rays oblique Darts flopping, and to Thetis watry Lap Hastens in prone Career, with Friends Select Swiftly we hie to Devil Young or old
Jocund and Boon, where at the entrance stands A Stripling, who with Scrapes and Humil Cringe, Greets us in winning Speech, and Accent Bland;
With lightest bound, and safe unerring step He skips before, and nimbly climbs the Stairs Melampus thus, panting with lolling Tongue, And wagging's Tail, Gamboles, and frisks before His sequel Lord from pensive Walk return'd, Whether in Shady Wood or Pasture Green, And waits his coming at the well known Gate. Nigh to the Stairs ascent, in regal Port Sits a Majestick Dame, whose looks denounce Command and Sov'reignty, with haughty Air, And Studied Mien, in Semicirc'lar Throne Enclos'd, she deals around her dread Commands; Behind her (Dazling sight) in order Rang'd, Pile above Pile Christallin Vessels shine; Attendant Slaves with eager stride advance, And after Homage paid, baul out aloud
Words unintelligible, noise confus'd:
She knows the Jargon Sounds, and strait describes In Characters Mysterious Words obscure; More legible are Algebraic Signs,
Or Mystic Figures by Magicians drawn, When they Invoke aid Diabolical.
Drive hence the Rude and Barb'rous Dissonance Of Savage Thracians, and Croatian Boors; The loud Centaurean Broil's with Lapithe Sound Harsh, and grating to Lenaan God; Chase brutal Feuds of Balian skippers hence,
(Amid their Cups, whose Innate Tempers shown) In clumsy Fist wielding Scymetrian Knife,
Who slash each others Eyes, and Blubber'd Face, Prophaning Bacchanalian solemn Rites : Musicks Harmonius Numbers better suit His Festivals, from Instrument or Voice, Or Gasperim's Hand the trembling string Should touch, or from the Tuscan Dames Or warbling Tosts more soft Melodious Tongue Sweet Symphonies should flow, the Delian God For Airy Bacchus is Associate meet.
The Stairs Ascent now gain'd our Guide unbars The door of Spacious Room, and creeking Chairs (To ear offensive) round the Table sets,
We sit, when thus his Florid Speech begins :
Name, Sirs, the WINE that most invites you, Tast, Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,
Or Hoc Antique, or Lisbon New or old, Bourdeaux, or neat French White, or Alicant: For Bordeaux we with Voice Unanimous Declare, (such Sympathy's in Boon Conpeers.) He quits the Room Alert, but soon returns, One hand Capacious glist'ring Vessels bore Resplendant, th' other with a grasp secure, A Bottle (mighty charge) upstaid, full Fraught With goodly Wine, He with extended Hand Rais'd High, pours forth the Sanguin frothy Juice, O'erspread with Bubbles, dissipated soon: We strait t'our Arms repair, experienced Chiefs; Now Glasses clash with Glasses, (Charming Sound,) And Glorious ANNA's Health the first the best Crowns the full Glass, at Her inspiring Name The sprightly Wine Results, and seem to smile, With hearty Zeal, and wish unanimous
The Health we drink, and in her Health our own.
A Pause ensues, and now with grateful Chat W' improve the Interval, and Joyous Mirth Engages our rais'd Souls, Pat Repartee, Or Witty Joke our airy Senses moves To pleasant Laughter, strait the Echoing Room With Universal Peals and Shouts resounds.
The Royal Dane, blest Consort of the blest QUEEN, Next Crowns the Rubied Nectar, all whose Bliss In ANNA's plac't with Sympathetic Flame, And Mutual Endearments, all her Joys, Like the kind Turtles pure untainted Love, Center in Him, who shares the grateful Hearts Of Loyal Subjects, with his Sov'reign QUEEN, For by his Prudent Care, united shores Were sav'd from Hostile Fleets Invasion dire.
The Hero Malbro next, whose vast Exploits Fame's Clarion sounds, fresh Laurels, Triumphs new We wish, like those he won at Hockstet's Field.
Next Devonshire Illustrious, who from Race
Of Noblest Patriots sprung, whose Soul's endow'd, And is with ev'ry Vertuous gift Adorn'd
That shon in his most worthy Ancestors,
For then distinct in sep'rate Breast were seen Virtues distinct, but all in him unite.
Prudent Godolphin, of the Nations weal Frugal, but free and gen'rous of his own.
Next Crowns the Bowl, with Faithful Sunderland. And Halifax, the Muses darling Song,
In whom Conspicuous, with full Lustre shine The surest Judgment, and the brightest Wit, Himself Mecanas and a Flaccus too,
And all the worthies of the British Realm
In order rang'd succeeded, Healths that ting'd The Dulcet Wine with a more charming Gust.
Now each their Mistress by whose scorching Eyes Fir'd, tost Cosmelia Fair, or Dulcibella, Or Silvia Comely Black with jetty Eyes Piercing, or Airy Celia sprightly Maid. Insensibly thus flow Unnumber'd Hours; Glass succeeds Glass, till the Dircean God Shines in our Eyes, and with his Fulgent Rays Enlightens our glad Looks with lovely Die; All Blithe and Jolly that like Arthur's Knights Of Rotund Table, Fam'd in Pristin Records, Now most we seem'd, such is the Power of Wine. Thus we the winged Hours in harmless Mirth, And Joys Unsull'd pass, till Humid Night Has half her Race perform'd, now all abroad Is hush'd and silent, nor the Rumbling Noise Of Coach or Cart, or Smoaky Link-Boys call Is heard; but Universal Silence Reigns: When we in Merry Plight, Airy and Gay, Surpriz'd to find the Hour so swiftly flie, With hasty knock, or Twang of Pendant Cord Alarm the Drowsy Youth from slumb'ring Nod; Startled he flies, and stumbles o'er the Stairs Erroneous, and with busie Knuckles plies
His yet clung Eyelids, and with stagg'ring Reel Enters Confus'd, and Mutt'ring asks our Wills; When we with Lib'ral Hand the Score discharge, And Homeward each his Course with steady step Unerring steer'd of Cares and Coin bereft.
Of riot-stirring wine, unwholesome draught, Let Pride's loose sons prolong the wasteful night; My sober ev'ning let the tankard bless,
With toast embrown'd, and fragrant nutmeg fraught While the rich draught with oft-repeated whiffs Tobacco mild improves. Divine repast! Where no crude surfeit or intemperate joys Of lawless Bacchus reign; but o'er my soul A calm lethean creeps, in drowsy trance
Each thought subsides, and sweet oblivion wraps
My peaceful brain, as if the leaden rod
Of magic morpheus o'er mine eyes had shed Its opiate influence. What though sore ills Oppress, dire want of chill-dispelling coals Or cheerful candle (save the make-weight's gleam Haply remaining) heart rejoicing ALE
Cheers the sad scene, and every want supplies. Meantime, not mindless of the daily task Of tutor sage, upon the learned leaves Of deep SMIGLECIUS much I meditate, While ALE inspires, and lends its kindred aid The thought-perplexing labour to pursue Sweet helicon of logic! but if friends Congenial call me from the toilsome page, To pot-house I repair, the sacred haunt, Where ALE thy votaries in full resort Hold rites nocturnal. In capacious chair Of mcnumental oak and antique mould, That long has stood the rage of conqu'ring years Inviolate, (nor in more ample chair Smokes rosy justice, when th'important cause, Whether of hen-roost, or of mirthful rape,
In all the majesty of paunch he tries) Studious of ease, and provident, I place My gladsome limbs; while in repeated round Returns replenish'd the successive cup, And the brisk fire conspires to genial joy: While haply, to relieve the ling'ring hours In innocent delight, amusive putt
On smooth joint-stool in emblematic play, The vain vicissitudes of fortune shews. Nor reckoning, name tremendous, me disturbs Nor, call'd for, chills my breast with sudden fear While on the wonted door, expressive mark, The frequent penny stands describ'd to view, In snowy characters and graceful row.
Hail, TICKING! surest guardian of distress Beneath thy shelter, penny less I quaff
The cheerful cup, nor hear with hopeless beart New oysters cry'd: Though much the poet's friend, Ne'er yet attempted in poetic strain,
Accept this tribute of poetic praise !
Nor proctor thrice with vocal heel alarms Our joys secure, nor deigns the lowly roof Of pot-house, snug to visit; wiser he The splendid tavern haunts, or coffee house Of JAMES OF JUGGINS, where the grateful breath Of loathed tobacco ne'er diffus'd its balm ; But the lewd spendthrift, falsely deem'd polite, While steams around the fragrant Indian bowl Oft damns the vulgar sons of humbler ALE: In vain the proctor's voice arrests their joys; Just fate of wanton pride and loose excess ! Nor less by day delightful is thy draught, All-powerful ALE! whose sorrow-soothing sweet Oft I repeat in vacant afternoon,
When tatter'd stockings crave my mending hand Not unexperienc'd; while the tedious toil Slides unregarded. Let the tender swain
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