 | Poems By John Hall |  |
36
To Mr. S. S.
As he obtaines such an enchanted skinThat Bullets cast aright could ne're get in,
Even so thou Monsieur temperd hast thy name
That to dispraise the most is yet no shame;
To curse is to befriend, who like a Jew
Art both a Vagabond and mony'd too;
Who feed'st on Hebrew rootes, and like a tare
Unbid, unwelcome thrivest every where;
Who mak'st all letters be thy Gutturall,
And brings the Conjugations to Kall;
Who though thou live by Grammer-rules, we see
Thou break'st all Canons of Moralitie;
And as far as that thread-bare Cloke of thine
Is out of Fashion, do'st from man decline;
And com'st as near a wit, as doth a Rat
Match in procerity Mount Ararat;
And art as fit to be a brewers Punck,
As Sumerburn is valiant when hee's drunk.
| Poems By John Hall | |