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Lady Betty observ'd it, then pulls out a pin,
And varies the grain of the stuff to his grin;
And, to make roasted silk to resemble his raw-bone,
She rais’d up a thread to the jer of his jaw-bone;
Till at length in exactest proportion he rose,
From the crown of his head to the arch of his nose.
And if Lady Betty had drawn him with wig and all,
'Tis certain the copy had out-done the original.
Well, that is but my out-lide, says Dan with a vapour. Say you so, says my Lady; I've lin’d it with paper.
Patr. DeLANY sculp.
LARISSA draws her scislars from the case
To draw the lines of poor Dan Jackson's face.
One Noping cut made forehead, nose, and chin,
A nick produc'd a mouth, and made him grin,
Such as in taylors' measure you have seen.
But still were wanting his grimalkin eyes,
For which grey worsted-stocking paint supplies.
Th’unravel'd thread through necdle's eye convey'd
Transferr'd itself into his paste-board head.
How came the fciffars to be thus out-done?
The needle had an eye, and they had none.
O wondrous force of art! now look at Dan
You 'll swear the paste-board was the better man.
“ The devil! says he, the head is not so full !”
Indeed it is - behold the paper skull.
Tho. SHERIDAN fculp.
DAN'S evil genius in a trice
Had stripp'd him of his coin at dice.
Cloe, observing this disgrace,
On Pam cut out his rueful face,
By G-, say Dan, 'tis very hard,
Cut out at dice, cut out at card !
G. ROCHFORT sculp.
HILST you three merry poets traffic
To give us a description graphic Of Dan's large nose in modern Sapphic; I spend my time in making Sermons, Or writing libels on the Germans, Or murmuring at Whigs' preferments. But when I would find rhyme for Rochfort, And look in English, French, and Scotch for 'tg, At last I 'm fairly forc'd to botch for 't. Bid Lady Betty recollect her, And tell, who was it could direct her To draw the face of such a spectre. I must confess, that as to me, Sirs, Though I ne'er saw her hold the scissars, I now could safely swear it is hers.
'Tis true, no nose could come in better; 'Tis a vast subject stuff'd with matter, Which all may handle, none can flatter. Take
courage, this plainly shows, That not the wiseft mortal knows What fortune may befall his nofe. Shew me the brightest Irish toast, Who from her lover e'er could boast Above a song or two at most ; For thee three poets now are drudging all To praise the cheeks, chin, nose, the bridge and all, Both of the picture and original. Thy nose's length and fame extend So far, dear Dan, that every friend Tries, who shall have it by the end. And future poets, as they rise, Shall read with envy and surprize Thy nose outshining Cælia's eyes.
DAN JACKSON'S DEFENCE.
My verse little better you 'll find than my face is, “ A word to the wise ut pictura poëfis."
Because Dan's face is better hung,
Combin’d in verse to rhyme it down,
And in its place set up their own;
As if they 'd run it down much better
By number of their feet in metre,
Or that its red did cause their spite,
Which made them raw in black and white.
Be that as 'twill, this is most true,
They were inspir’d by what they drew.
Let then fuch criticks know, my face
Gives them their comeliness and grace :
line of face does bring
A line of grace to what they fing.
But yet, methinks, though with disgrace
Both to the picture and the face,
I should name them who do rehearse
'The story of the picture-farce ;
The Squire, in French as hard as stone,
Or strong as rock, that 's all as one,
On face on cards is very brisk, Sirs,
Because on them you play at whisk, Sirs.
But much I wonder, why my crany
Should envy'd be by De-el-any:
And yet much more, that half-name sake
Should join a party in the freak.
For sure I am it was not safe
Thus to abuse his better half,
As I shall prove you, Dan, to be,
Divism and conjunctively.
For if Dan love not Sherry, can
Sherry be any thing to Dan ?
This is the case whene'er you see
Dan makes nothing of Sherry ;
Or should Dan be by Sherry o'erta'en,
Then Dan would be poor Sherridane ;
'Tis hard then he should be decry'd
By Dan with Sherry by his side.
But, if the case must be so hard,
That faces suffer by a card,
Let criticks censure, what care I
Back-biters only we defy,
Faces are free from injury.
O U say your face is better hung
Than ours by what? by nose or tongue ? In not explaining, you are wrong
to us, Sir. Because we thus must state the case, That you have
got a hanging face,
Th' untimely end 's a damn’d disgrace
of noose, Sir.
But yet be not cast down : I see
A weaver will your hangman be;
You 'll only hang in tapestry-
And then the ladies, I suppose,
Will praise your longitude of nose,
For latent charms within your cloaths,