83

Miscellaneous Poem s.

Warning the Cook-maid not to burnThat Roast-meet which it cannot turn.

The groaning Chair began to crawl,Like a huge Snail, along the Wall;

There stuck aloft, in publick View,

And, with small Change, a Pulpit grew.

The Porringers, that in a RowHung high, and made a glitt'ring Show,To a less noble Substance chang’d,

Were now but leathern Buckets rang’d.

The Ballads pasted on the Wall,

Of Joan of France, and English Moll,Fair Rosamond, and Rabin Hood,

The little Children in the I Food ;

Now feem’d to look Abundance better,Jmprov’d in Picture, Size, and Letter jAnd, high in Order plac’d, describeThe Heraldry of ev’ry Tribe.

A Bedstead of the antique Mode,Compact of Timber 1 many a Load,

Such as our Ancestors did use,

Was metamorphos’d into Pews ;

Which still their antient Nature keep,

By lodging Folks dispos'd to Sleep.

The Cottage, by such Feats as these,Grown to a Church by just Degrees.

The Hermits then desir’d their Host,

To ask for what he fancy’d most.PHILEMON, having paus’d a while,Return’d ’em Thanks in homely Stile :Then said ; my House is grown so fine,-Methinks I still would call it mine :

I’m old, and fain would live at Ease,Make me the Parson, if you please.

He spoke, and presently he feelsHis Grazier’s Coat fall down his Heels ;He fees, yet hardly can believe,

About each Arm a Pudding Sleeve :

His