The works of Mr. Thomas Brown Serious and Comical, In Prose and Verse; In four volumes. The Fourth Edition, Corrected, and much Enlarged from his Originals never before publish'd. With a key to all his Writings |
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To Sir R--- B---re, on the two Wooden Horses before Sadlers-Hall.
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 | The works of Mr. Thomas Brown |  |
To Sir R--- B---re, on the two Wooden Horses before Sadlers-Hall.
As trusty Broomstaff Midnight Witch bestrides.
When on some grand Dispatch of Hell she rides;
O'er gilded Pinacles and lofty Towers,
And tallest Pines with furious haste she scowres,
Out-flies in her Career the lab'ring Wind,
And sees spent Exhalations lag behind;
Arriving at the black Divan at last,
In some dire Wood, or solitary Wast,
The Fiend her cheated Senses does delude
With airy Visions of imagin'd Food;
Ev'n so, on Wooden Prancer mounted high,
Your Muse takes nimble Journeys in the Sky;
When in her boldest Strains and highest Flights,
She sings of strange Adventures and Exploits,
Battels, Enchantments, Furies, Devils, and Knights;
When she at Arthur's Fairy Table dines,
And high-pil'd Dishes sees, and generous Wines.
When on some grand Dispatch of Hell she rides;
O'er gilded Pinacles and lofty Towers,
And tallest Pines with furious haste she scowres,
Out-flies in her Career the lab'ring Wind,
And sees spent Exhalations lag behind;
Arriving at the black Divan at last,
In some dire Wood, or solitary Wast,
The Fiend her cheated Senses does delude
With airy Visions of imagin'd Food;
Ev'n so, on Wooden Prancer mounted high,
Your Muse takes nimble Journeys in the Sky;
When in her boldest Strains and highest Flights,
She sings of strange Adventures and Exploits,
Battels, Enchantments, Furies, Devils, and Knights;
When she at Arthur's Fairy Table dines,
And high-pil'd Dishes sees, and generous Wines.
'Twas kindly done of the good-natur'd Cits,
To place before thy Door a brace of Tits,
For Pegasus would ne'er endure the Weight
Of such a quibbling, scribbling, dribbling Knight.
That generous Steed, rather than gaul his Back
With a Pedantic Bard, and nauseous Quack,
Wou'd kneel to take a Pedlar and his Pack.
To place before thy Door a brace of Tits,
For Pegasus would ne'er endure the Weight
Of such a quibbling, scribbling, dribbling Knight.
That generous Steed, rather than gaul his Back
With a Pedantic Bard, and nauseous Quack,
Wou'd kneel to take a Pedlar and his Pack.
| The works of Mr. Thomas Brown | |