Page:The Battle of the Books, and Other Short Pieces.djvu/125

 Nor do I ask for Stella's sake; 'Tis my own credit lies at stake. And Stella will be sung, while I Can only be a stander by. Apollo having thought a little, Returned this answer to a tittle. Tho' you should live like old Methusalem, I furnish hints, and you should use all 'em, You yearly sing as she grows old, You'd leave her virtues half untold. But to say truth, such dulness reigns Through the whole set of Irish Deans; I'm daily stunned with such a medley, Dean W—, Dean D—l, and Dean S—; That let what Dean soever come, My orders are, I'm not at home; And if your voice had not been loud, You must have passed among the crowd. But, now your danger to prevent, You must apply to Mrs. Brent, For she, as priestess, knows the rites Wherein the God of Earth delights. First, nine ways looking, let her stand With an old poker in her hand; Let her describe a circle round In Saunder's cellar on the ground A spade let prudent Archy hold,