Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/236

226 Famished the one, meagre, and lean of plight, As a cast poet, who for bread does write; The other fat, and plump, as prebend was, Pampered with luxury and holy ease. Thus met, with compliments, too long to tell, Of being glad to see each other well: ’How now. Sir Towzer?’ said the wolf, ’I pray, Whence comes it that you look so sleek and gay, While I, who do as well, I am sure, deserve, For want of livelihood am like to starve?’ ’Troth, sir,' replied the dog, ' 't has been my fate, I thank the friendly stars, to hap of late On a kind master, to whose care I owe All this good flesh wherewith you see me now. From his rich voider every day I'm fed With bones of fowls, and crusts of finest bread; With fricassee, ragout, and whatsoe'er Of costly kickshaws now in fashion are, And more variety of boiled and roast, Than a Lord Mayor's waiter e'er could boast. Then, sir, 'tis hardly credible to tell, How I'm respected and beloved by all; I'm the delight of the whole family, Not darling Shock more favourite than I; I never sleep abroad, to air exposed, But in my warm apartment am inclosed; There on fresh bed of straw, with canopy Of hutch above, like dog of state I lie. Besides, when with high fare and nature fired, To generous sports of youth I am inspired, All the proud shes are soft to my embrace, From bitch of quality down to turnspit race; Each day I try new mistresses and loves, Nor envy sovereign dogs in their alcoves. Thus happy I of all enjoy the best, No mortal cur on earth yet half so blessed; And farther to enhance the happiness, All this I get by idleness and. ease,'