Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/105

 Squab Everard with most Concern appear'd, He Shov'd, and Prest, and Swore he wou'd be Heard.

If at my Years, said he, I turn One Page, Or hurt with Books These Eyes too weak with Age, May I, like Thee, on Musty Paper feed, Turn Bookworm, and be Bury'd 'ere I'm Dead; Let us, who know the Use of Living, live; Thy Meagre Body do's thy Soul Survive: Go, Macerate what Flesh remains with Books, We are not fond of such mean haggard Looks; What Others do shall ne'er disturb My Head; I neither Alcoran, nor Bible read. I know tight well the price of College Hay, Or what Our Farmers every Quarter Pay, On which good Vineyard there's a Mortgage made, And what and how the Int'rest must be paid; Twenty