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BOUNCE to FOP. AN HEROICK EPISTLE.
By Dr. S—T.
[Price Six-Pence.]
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BOUNCE TO FOP.
AN HEROICK EPISTLE FROM A DOG at TWICKENHAM TO A DOG at COURT.
By Dr. S—T.
DUBLIN, Printed, LONDON, Reprinted for T. COOPER, in Paternoſter-Row. M.DCC.XXXVI.
BOUNCE TO FOP.
[5]TO thee, ſweet Fop, theſe Lines I ſend,
Who, tho' no Spaniel, am a Friend.
Tho, once my Tail in wanton play,
Now frisking this, and then that way,
Chanc'd, with a Touch of juſt the Tip,
To hurt your Lady-lap-dog-ſhip;
Yet thence to think I'd bite your Head off!
Sure Bounce is one you never read of.
[6]
FOP! you can dance, and make a Leg,
Can fetch and carry, cringe and beg,
And (what's the Top of all your Tricks)
Can ſtoop to pick up Strings and Sticks.
We Country Dogs love nobler Sport,
And ſcorn the Pranks of Dogs at Court.
Fye, naughty Fop! where e'er you come
To f [...]t and p [...]ſs about the Room,
To lay your Head in every Lap,
And, when they think not of you—ſnap!
The worſt that Envy, or that Spite
E'er ſaid of me, is, I can bite:
That ſturdy Vagrants, Rogues in Rags,
Who poke at me, can make no Brags;
And that to towze ſuch Things as flutter,
To honeſt Bounce is Bread and Butter.
While you, and every courtly Fop,
Fawn on the Devil for a Chop,
[7] I've the Humanity to hate
A Butcher, tho' he brings me Meat;
And let me tell you, have a Noſe,
(Whatever ſtinking Fops ſuppoſe)
That under Cloth of Gold or Tiſſue,
Can ſmell a Plaiſter, or an Iſſue.
Your pilf'ring Lord, with ſimple Pride,
May wear a Pick-lock at his Side;
My Maſter wants no Key of State,
For Bounce can keep his Houſe and Gate.
When all ſuch Dogs have had their Days,
As knaviſh Pams, and fawning Trays;
When pamper'd Cupids, beaſtly Veni's,
And motly, ſquinting Harvequini's,
Shall lick no more their Lady's Br [...],
But die of Looſeneſs, Claps, or Itch;
[8] Fair Thames from either ecchoing Shore
Shall hear, and dread my manly Roar.
See Bounce, like Berecynthia, crown'd
With thund'ring Offspring all around,
Beneath, beſide me, and a top,
A hundred Sons! and not one Fop.
Before my Children ſet your Beef,
Not one true Bounce will be a Thief;
Not one without Permiſſion feed,
(Tho' ſome of J [...]'s hungry Breed)
But whatſoe'er the Father's Race,
From me they ſuck a little Grace.
While your fine Whelps learn all to ſteal,
Bred up by Hand on Chick and Veal.
My Eldeſt-born reſides not far,
Where ſhines great Strafford's glittering Star:
[9] My ſecond (Child of Fortune!) waits
At Burlington's Palladian Gates:
A third majeſtically ſtalks
(Happieſt of Dogs!) in Cobham's Walks:
One uſhers Friends to Bathurſt's Door;
One fawns, at Oxford's, on the Poor.
Nobles, whom Arms or Arts adorn,
Wait for my Infants yet unborn.
None but a Peer of Wit and Grace,
Can hope a Puppy of my Race.
And O! wou'd Fate the Bliſs decree
To mine (a Bliſs too great for me)
That two, my talleſt Sons, might grace
Attending each with ſtately Pace,
To keep off Flatt'rers, Spies, and Panders,
[10] To let no noble Slave come near,
And ſcare Lord Fannys from his Ear:
Then might a Royal Youth, and true,
Enjoy at leaſt a Friend—or two:
A Treaſure, which, of Royal kind,
Few but Himſelf deſerve to find.
Then Bounce ('tis all that Bounce can crave)
Shall wag her Tail within the Grave.
And tho' no Doctors, Whig or Tory ones,
Except the Sect of Pythagoreans,
Have Immortality aſſign'd
To any Beaſt, but † Dryden's Hind:
Yet Maſter Pope, whom Truth and Senſe
Shall call their Friend ſome Ages hence,
Tho' now on loftier Themes he ſings
Than to beſtow a Word on Kings,
[11] Has ſworn by Sticks (the Poet's Oath,
And Dread of Dogs and Poets both)
Man and his Works he'll ſoon renounce,
And roar in Numbers worthy Bounce.
FINIS.
Appendix A ERRATA.
Page 7. Line 14. for Harvequini's, read Harlequini's.
Notes
*
Virg. Aen. VIII.
†
A Milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang'd. Ver. I. Of the Hind and Panther.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3665 Bounce to Fop An heroick epistle from a dog at Twickenham to a dog at court By Dr S t. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-593F-B