The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop ... To Which are Prefixed, Memoirs of the Life of the Author By the Rev. Thomas Clare |
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EPIGRAM XVII.
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 | The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop |  |
EPIGRAM XVII.
[When Euclio a snug fuddle chose]
STAT SUA CUIQUE DIES.
When Euclio a snug fuddle chose,
For want of better conversation,
His man was call'd (the story goes)
To share a tête à tête potation.
For want of better conversation,
His man was call'd (the story goes)
To share a tête à tête potation.
173
By the mere force of grave hob-nob,
Bumpers flew faster still, and faster;
“Master, my sarvice!”—“Thank ye, Bob!”—
“Here's to ye, Robert!”—“Thank ye, Master!”
Bumpers flew faster still, and faster;
“Master, my sarvice!”—“Thank ye, Bob!”—
“Here's to ye, Robert!”—“Thank ye, Master!”
Such business, follow'd up so close,
Soon brought them to the end o'th' tether;
They pass'd their day; they took their dose;
Star'd, stutter'd, stagger'd, snor'd together.
Soon brought them to the end o'th' tether;
They pass'd their day; they took their dose;
Star'd, stutter'd, stagger'd, snor'd together.
Thus bout, at home, succeeded bout;
For there was no restraint before 'em;
But when occasion call'd them out,
Twas proper to preserve decorum:
For there was no restraint before 'em;
But when occasion call'd them out,
Twas proper to preserve decorum:
And therefore they agreed to make
A bonâ fide stipulation,
Strict turn and turn, abroad, to take;
One drunk, one sober, in rotation.
A bonâ fide stipulation,
Strict turn and turn, abroad, to take;
One drunk, one sober, in rotation.
174
The first day was the Master's right;
And each perform'd the part decreed him;
The Squire was reeling ripe by night,
And Robert cool enough to lead him.
And each perform'd the part decreed him;
The Squire was reeling ripe by night,
And Robert cool enough to lead him.
Soon after Robert's day came round,
When to a neighbouring peer's they sally'd;
Whose tap so free, whose ale so sound,
With Robert's taste exactly tally'd:—
When to a neighbouring peer's they sally'd;
Whose tap so free, whose ale so sound,
With Robert's taste exactly tally'd:—
But in the pith of all his pride,
A summons from his Master caught him,
Who took him cunningly aside,
And thus in soothing style besought him:
A summons from his Master caught him,
Who took him cunningly aside,
And thus in soothing style besought him:
“Robert, I've had my day, I know;
“And this, I know, to thee is due for't;
“But wouldst thou now thy claim forego,
“Hereafter I'll allow thee two for't”.—
“And this, I know, to thee is due for't;
“But wouldst thou now thy claim forego,
“Hereafter I'll allow thee two for't”.—
175
“'Tis hard,” quoth Robert, “to deny,
“And from my soul I pity you, sir;
“But what you ask, is more than I,
“'Tis more than fate itself can do, sir.
“And from my soul I pity you, sir;
“But what you ask, is more than I,
“'Tis more than fate itself can do, sir.
“Tho' mild as mother's milk, it be,
“His lordship's stingo's wond'rous heady:—
“The day is three parts spent, you see,
“And I am three parts gone already!”
“His lordship's stingo's wond'rous heady:—
“The day is three parts spent, you see,
“And I am three parts gone already!”
| The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop | |