The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

551
EPIGRAMS OF ALEXANDER POPE.
ON MRS. TOFTS.
(A CELEBRATED OPERA SINGER.)
So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song,
As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along;
But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride.
That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have died.
TO A BLOCKHEAD.
You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come:
Knock as you please, there's nobody at home.
THE FOOL AND THE POET.
Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool,
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.
EPIGRAMS OF DEAN SWIFT.
ON BURNING A DULL POEM.
An ass's hoof alone can hold
That poisonous juice, which kills by cold.
Methought when I this poem read,
No vessel but an ass's head
Such frigid fustian could contain;
I mean the head without the brain.
The cold conceits, the chilling thoughts,
Went down like stupefying draughts;