Gulliveriana or, a fourth volume of miscellanies. Being a Sequel of the Three Volumes published by Pope and Swift. To which is added, Alexanderiana; or, A Comparison between the Ecclesiastical and Poetical Pope. And many Things, in Verse and Prose, relating to the latter. With an ample Preface; and a Critique on the Third Volume of Miscellanies lately publish'd by those two facetious Writers [by Jonathan Smedley] |
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Tom Pun-sibi Metamorphos'd: Or, The Giber Gib'd.
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 | Gulliveriana |  |
260
Tom Pun-sibi Metamorphos'd: Or, The Giber Gib'd.
Mirandi novitate movebere monstri.
Ovid.
Ovid.
[_]
The following Poem was writ by a very Ingenious Clergyman of Ireland, in contempt of Gulliver's Insolence to his Friends and Acquaintance, and to expose the servile Behaviour of the Captain's Underlings; amongst whom this Clergyman places Tom Punsibi; so nam'd by himself, on account of his Art of Punning, altho', bad as the Performance is, Gulliver has a chief Share in it, as you may see, by the Agreement which there is, between the Method and Analysis of that Book, and the Bathos. I can't but think this Poem worthy this Collection, from the Spirit of it, and because it exposes, not only the Captain, but his chief Underling, SHERIDAN, an Irish Schoolmaster.
Tom
was a little, merry Grig;
Fiddled, and danc'd to his own Jig
Good-natur'd; but a little Silly;
Irresolute, and shally-shilly.
What he shou'd do, he cou'dn't guess;
Sw---t us'd him, like a Man at Chess;
He told him, once, that he had Wit;
But was in jest, and Tom was Bit.
Thought himself Second Son of Phœbus,
For Ballad, Pun, Lampoon and Rebus.
He took a Draught of Helicon,
But swallowed so much Water down,
He got a Dropsey; now, they say, 'tis
Turn'd to poetick Diabetes.
For all the Liquor he has pass'd,
Is without Spirit, Salt or Tast:
But, since it pass'd, Tom thought it Wit;
And so he writ, and writ, and writ:
He writ the famous Punning Art;
The Benefit of Piss and Fart;
He writ The Wonder of all Wonders;
He writ The Blunder of all Blunders;
He writ a merry Farce for Poppet,
Taught Actors how to squeak and hop it;
A Treatise on the wooden Man;
A Ballad on the Nose of Dan;
The Art of making April Fools;
And Four and Thirty quibbling-Rules.
The Learned say, that Tom went snacks
With Philomaths, for Almanacks;
Tho' they divided are, for some say
He writ for Whaley, some for Cumpstey.
Hundreds there are, who will make Oath,
That he writ Almanacks for both:
And tho' they made the Calculations,
Tom writ the Monthly Observations!
Fiddled, and danc'd to his own Jig
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Irresolute, and shally-shilly.
What he shou'd do, he cou'dn't guess;
Sw---t us'd him, like a Man at Chess;
He told him, once, that he had Wit;
But was in jest, and Tom was Bit.
Thought himself Second Son of Phœbus,
For Ballad, Pun, Lampoon and Rebus.
He took a Draught of Helicon,
But swallowed so much Water down,
He got a Dropsey; now, they say, 'tis
Turn'd to poetick Diabetes.
For all the Liquor he has pass'd,
Is without Spirit, Salt or Tast:
But, since it pass'd, Tom thought it Wit;
And so he writ, and writ, and writ:
He writ the famous Punning Art;
The Benefit of Piss and Fart;
He writ The Wonder of all Wonders;
He writ The Blunder of all Blunders;
262
Taught Actors how to squeak and hop it;
A Treatise on the wooden Man;
A Ballad on the Nose of Dan;
The Art of making April Fools;
And Four and Thirty quibbling-Rules.
The Learned say, that Tom went snacks
With Philomaths, for Almanacks;
Tho' they divided are, for some say
He writ for Whaley, some for Cumpstey.
Hundreds there are, who will make Oath,
That he writ Almanacks for both:
And tho' they made the Calculations,
Tom writ the Monthly Observations!
Such were his Writings; but his Chatter
Was one continued Clitter Clatter.
Sw---t slit his Tongue, and made it talk,
Cry, Cup o'Sack, and Walk, Knave, walk;
And fitted little, prating Pall
For wier Cage, in Common-Hall:
Made him expert at quibble Jargon
And quaint, at selling of a Bargain.
Pall, he cou'd talk in Different Linguo's,
But he cou'd not be taught Distinguo's;
Sw---t, try'd in vain, and angry there at
Into a Spaniel turn'd his Parrot,
Made him to walk on the Hind Legs;
He Dances, Fawns, and Paws, and Begs:
Then Cuts a Caper o'er a Stick,
Lies close, does whine, and creep, and lick.
Sw---t put a Bit upon his Snout,
Poor Tom! he darn't look about;
But when that Sw---t does give the Word,
He snaps it up, tho' twere a T---d.
Sw---t Strokes his Back, and gives him Victual,
And then he makes him lick his Spittle.
Sometimes he takes him on his Lap,
And makes him Grin, and Snarl, and Snap.
He set the little Cur at me:
Kick'd, he leapt up upon his Knee;
I took him by the Neck, to shake him;
And made him void his Album Græcum.
Turn out the stinking Cur, Pox take him,
Quoth Sw---t: Tho' Sw---t cou'd sooner want any
Thing, in the World, than, a TANTA-NY;
And thus not only made his Grig,
A Parrot, Spaniel; but His Pig.
Was one continued Clitter Clatter.
Sw---t slit his Tongue, and made it talk,
Cry, Cup o'Sack, and Walk, Knave, walk;
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For wier Cage, in Common-Hall:
Made him expert at quibble Jargon
And quaint, at selling of a Bargain.
Pall, he cou'd talk in Different Linguo's,
But he cou'd not be taught Distinguo's;
Sw---t, try'd in vain, and angry there at
Into a Spaniel turn'd his Parrot,
Made him to walk on the Hind Legs;
He Dances, Fawns, and Paws, and Begs:
Then Cuts a Caper o'er a Stick,
Lies close, does whine, and creep, and lick.
Sw---t put a Bit upon his Snout,
Poor Tom! he darn't look about;
But when that Sw---t does give the Word,
He snaps it up, tho' twere a T---d.
Sw---t Strokes his Back, and gives him Victual,
And then he makes him lick his Spittle.
264
And makes him Grin, and Snarl, and Snap.
He set the little Cur at me:
Kick'd, he leapt up upon his Knee;
I took him by the Neck, to shake him;
And made him void his Album Græcum.
Turn out the stinking Cur, Pox take him,
Quoth Sw---t: Tho' Sw---t cou'd sooner want any
Thing, in the World, than, a TANTA-NY;
And thus not only made his Grig,
A Parrot, Spaniel; but His Pig.
| Gulliveriana | |