ADDRESS VI. The Vauxhall Proprietor to the Surrey MOST worthy Magistrates of Surrey, And don't suppose it will imply sense, That you will get much censure by it. I hate those canting Methodists, Who think true piety consists In heaving half a dozen sighs, And turning up their frightful eyes. I hate those whinning Would-be Saints, Who're always prone to make complaints, If we indulge in harmless play, And are occasionally gay. As Masquerades had been, I swear, At the Haymarket and elsewhere, I thought it would be very hard, Shou'd Vauxhall be of them debarr'd; The town was anxious for the sport, And the town's favour I must court. I promis'd them this entertainment, Which was not, gentlemen, for gain meant, But chiefly meant, with great propriety, To give Vauxhall some notoriety; But Mr. B-s was sore afraid, That my intended Masquerade Would be productive of great evil, And send poor sinners to the devil; Tho' Masquerades had been so common, And when did evil happen from one? Eight days before-no sooner, Sirs, This worthy gentleman demurs, And notice then was sent to me, The entertainment must not be Not be !—when that my word was given- His humble servant to tell lies? His humble servant tho' knew better- Altho' of masks a great variety? Sirs, I defy you to tell any; Then, since there's no offence, how can ye Refuse my licence to renew? A licence which I think my due. Consider well-for, be it known, And folks will say, on each alarm, But grant your licence to sell beer, And other necessary cheer; And, spite of B-wles and R-d H-l, Your humble servant I'll be still. G. B. ADDRESS VII. Dr. Dodd's Ghost to George Colm―n the younger. AH! why the ashes of the dead molest, And hop'd, as Heav'n and all mankind forgave, In elegant phraseology, you say, The Rev. Dr. Dodd was hang'd one day, "For only forgery."-And then you write→→→ "For murder Hackman died," poor brother sprite! But wherefore not do justice to his ghost, And say, thro' love his senses he had lost? |