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When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model ;
And when we see the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the cost of the erection;
Which, if we find outweighs ability,
What do we then but draw anew the model
In fewer offices? At least, dehft
To build at all ?
We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men:
Like one that draws the model of a house
power to build it; who, half-through,
Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost
A naked subject to the weeping clouds
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny..
SiR JOSHUA REYNOLDS..
Never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves; the painter
Was as another nature, dumb, out-went her,
Motion and breath left out..
The man fevere, and steady to his trust,
Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just,
May the rude rabble's insolence defpise.
They squabble for a pin, a feather,
And wonder how they came together.
The husband's süllen, dogged, shy,
The wife grows flippant in reply.
He loves command and due restriction,
And she as well likes contradiction :
She never slavishly submits;
She'll have her will, or have her fits.
He this way tugs, she t'other draws;
The man grows jealous, and with cause.
Nothing can part them but divorce,
And here the wife complies of course.
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity.
Thy mother's fon! like enough; and thy father's shadow : so the son of the female, is the shadow of the male : it is often so, indeed, but not of the father's substance.
His grace says that, which his flesh rebels against.
Can you forgive the fallies of my paflion!
For I have been to blame; Oh! much to blame!
Have said such words, nay done such actions too,
Base as I am, that my aw'd conscious soul
Sinks in my
And in the course of one revolving moon
Was statesman, chymist, fidler, and buffoon;
Then all for gaming, horses, rhyming, drinking,
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking,
been all this while? When every thing is ended, then
you come. These tardy tricks of your's will, on my life, One time or other break some gallows' back.
THE EDITOR'S APOLOGY.
Thus much I've said, I trust, without offence;
Let no court fycophant pervert my sense;
Nor fly informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of treason, or the law.