POETRY. 
Sir, To THE EpIToR OF THE DEE. 
THI S poent, ‘and the few others which accompary it, were extracted from 
three manuscript volumes I lately got. 1 do not vouch them for originals that 
were never publifoed, though I bought them as such ; but suspect I may have 
been taken in. Most of them scem to have been written forty or fifty years 
ago. Tf you think them worthy of a place in eda Miscellany they are much 
at your service, Fo Fe 
THE COUNTRY PARSON. 
IN IMITATION OF HORACE’S COUNTRY MOUSE. 
Rusticus urbanum murem, &c. B. ii, Sat. 6. 
Hagp by the side of Snowdon’s lofty hill, 
Inclos’d with thickets and a purling rill, 
There liv’d an honest vicar, free from strife, 
Tho’ clogg’d with that tempest’ous thing,—a wife. 
Neat was his house, and humble tho” not mean, 
Fine without cost, tho” elegantly clean : 
In this parochial state he spent hisyears, 
Nor rais’¢d by fortune, nor deprefs’d by cares. 5 
Grave, and close fisted, yet who once did treat 
A London rector, at this humble seat 5 
A priest well known at court, in daily wait, 
On bifhops, lords, and ministers of state ; 
Could flatier, fawn, and cringe,—call this man brother, 
Say one thing openly, but mean another. 
Both were at Cambridge. bred, and both had spent 
Seven studious years in friendship and content: 
But this by hating Tory and Pretender, 
Had gained aliving from our faith’s defender 
On Cambria’s hilis, and now came down that way, 
To see his tenants, and receive his pay : 
The rev’rend vicar treats his cringing guest 
With all the rarities his house pofsest. 
The beer was tapt, with cyder rough and sweet, 
And beef and pork serv’d up, which lords might eat; 
Nex: came the produce of the female goats, 
And apples blushing in their ruddy coats. 
All these were order’d that the guest might see 
How Wales abounded in variety : 
But no such food could gratify his taste, 
He loads his trencher with indecent waste 3 
Sticks his fork lightly in the smoking meat, 
And, loathing, praises what he’s forc’d to eat. 
Now dinner’s o’er, the night with mirth is crown’d, 
While loyal healths and witty jokes go round ; 
