Miscellanies in prose and verse on several occasions, by Claudero [i.e. James Wilson], son of Nimrod the Mighty Hunter. The Fourth Edition with large Additions |
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To the Pye-baxters.
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 | Miscellanies in prose and verse |  |
To the Pye-baxters.
Pye-baxters all, come hear my theme:
I sing a truth, conceal a name:
From truth my song shall never vary,
Tho' I was Taylor's secretary;
And in that post, I tell no fiction,
I wrote damn'd lies from Taylor's diction.—
Stung with remorse, I scorn'd his gold;
Refus'd my country to blindfold.
The quack, enrag'd with much vexation,
Knew well the fate of his oration,
Which he averr'd was made at Rome,
Tho' forg'd by him and me at home.
A luscious piece of scand'lous praise,
Among the mob his fame to raise.
But let the quack dissect the eye,
And blindfold all who do apply:
Let him impose on blind folks purses,
And cut their eyes, and get their curses;
Boast loud of cures perform'd abroad,
And call himself a demi-god.
Our faculty of skill'd physicians
Think him unworthy of a licence;
And by them all 'tis understood
He does more harm than he does good.
I sing a truth, conceal a name:
From truth my song shall never vary,
Tho' I was Taylor's secretary;
And in that post, I tell no fiction,
I wrote damn'd lies from Taylor's diction.—
Stung with remorse, I scorn'd his gold;
Refus'd my country to blindfold.
The quack, enrag'd with much vexation,
Knew well the fate of his oration,
Which he averr'd was made at Rome,
Tho' forg'd by him and me at home.
A luscious piece of scand'lous praise,
Among the mob his fame to raise.
But let the quack dissect the eye,
And blindfold all who do apply:
Let him impose on blind folks purses,
And cut their eyes, and get their curses;
Boast loud of cures perform'd abroad,
And call himself a demi-god.
Our faculty of skill'd physicians
Think him unworthy of a licence;
And by them all 'tis understood
He does more harm than he does good.
Here stop, my muse; a Pye comes next,
I had almost forgot my text.
King Pharaoh's baker stiff was kill'd,
For baking pyes far better fill'd:
Th'Egyptian bakers after him
Did cram their pyes from sole to brim:
Warn'd by this baker's dreadful fate,
They first got scales and weigh'd their meat;
Then Jacob's sons for many a day
Did eat good pyes, as authors say:
But in our country, far remote,
Th'example's read, but quite forgot:
Nor lectures from the pulpit can,
So well as ropes reform a man.
Our Cowgate Council paunches eat;
In them they see there is no cheat:
But fill your paste, increase the size,
They'll leave the paunches, and take pyes.
I had almost forgot my text.
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For baking pyes far better fill'd:
Th'Egyptian bakers after him
Did cram their pyes from sole to brim:
Warn'd by this baker's dreadful fate,
They first got scales and weigh'd their meat;
Then Jacob's sons for many a day
Did eat good pyes, as authors say:
But in our country, far remote,
Th'example's read, but quite forgot:
Nor lectures from the pulpit can,
So well as ropes reform a man.
Our Cowgate Council paunches eat;
In them they see there is no cheat:
But fill your paste, increase the size,
They'll leave the paunches, and take pyes.
| Miscellanies in prose and verse | |