Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/105

Squab Everard with most Concern appear'd,
He Shov'd, and Prest, and Swore he wou'd be Heard.

If at my Years, said he, I turn One Page,
Or hurt with Books These Eyes too weak with Age,
May I, like Thee, on Musty Paper feed,
Turn Bookworm, and be Bury'd 'ere I'm Dead;
Let us, who know the Use of Living, live;
Thy Meagre Body do's thy Soul Survive:
Go, Macerate what Flesh remains with Books,
We are not fond of such mean haggard Looks;
What Others do shall ne'er disturb My Head;
I neither Alcoran, nor Bible read.
I know tight well the price of College Hay,
Or what Our Farmers every Quarter Pay,
On which good Vineyard there's a Mortgage made,
And what and how the Int'rest must be paid;

Twenty