Canto i.
LE LUTRIN.
11
"Thy Benedictions, which thou may'st Dispense
"By dozens, scores, and Hundreds, and from thence
"To his Regrett, the fretting envious Elf
"Shall see thee thousands Bless; and hang himself!
To see the Mighty Power of Eloquence,
How little short 'tis of Omnipotence!
Sidrac's discourse had charm'd their Ears and Heart,
And Planet-strook the Dean stood for his part;
Now on the Place before a foot they stirr,
The Lot must tell whom Destinies preferr
To this important service; All pretend
Both Zeal, and Fitness for this Noble end;
The Prelate then stroaking his Milk-white Beard
With Wisdom spoke, with Reverence was Heard:
The Lot, my Masters! I ordain your Law;
From Ʋrn Impartial each his Fortune draw:
'Twas said, 'twas done; Now all leave off their Quibling,
Each Mothers Son betakes himself to Scribling;
Full thirty Names at least, in Tickets rolled
Were reckon'd; And that none might be cajolled,
William, a Novice 'mongst the singing boyes
(Who serv'd in time of Need to make a Noise,)
Must draw the Lots; And now from fatal Bonnet
Each man abides his Doom, what e're comes on it.
Thrice had the Dean with hands lift up to Heaven
Unto this Pious Work the Blessing given;
His holy Hand thrice shakes the fatal Cap,
And happy man he's Dole who has the Hap!
Now William trembling to the Work Addresses,
Him too the bounteous Dean All-to-be-Blesses;
The Boy was newly shorn, of ruddy Hew,
But when he came to't, the poore Lad look't Blew;
And now he draws! first Brontin's Name appears,
Thrice happy Name to cure the Prelates fears!
"By dozens, scores, and Hundreds, and from thence
"To his Regrett, the fretting envious Elf
"Shall see thee thousands Bless; and hang himself!
To see the Mighty Power of Eloquence,
How little short 'tis of Omnipotence!
Sidrac's discourse had charm'd their Ears and Heart,
And Planet-strook the Dean stood for his part;
Now on the Place before a foot they stirr,
The Lot must tell whom Destinies preferr
To this important service; All pretend
Both Zeal, and Fitness for this Noble end;
The Prelate then stroaking his Milk-white Beard
With Wisdom spoke, with Reverence was Heard:
The Lot, my Masters! I ordain your Law;
From Ʋrn Impartial each his Fortune draw:
'Twas said, 'twas done; Now all leave off their Quibling,
Each Mothers Son betakes himself to Scribling;
Full thirty Names at least, in Tickets rolled
Were reckon'd; And that none might be cajolled,
William, a Novice 'mongst the singing boyes
(Who serv'd in time of Need to make a Noise,)
Must draw the Lots; And now from fatal Bonnet
Each man abides his Doom, what e're comes on it.
Thrice had the Dean with hands lift up to Heaven
Unto this Pious Work the Blessing given;
His holy Hand thrice shakes the fatal Cap,
And happy man he's Dole who has the Hap!
Now William trembling to the Work Addresses,
Him too the bounteous Dean All-to-be-Blesses;
The Boy was newly shorn, of ruddy Hew,
But when he came to't, the poore Lad look't Blew;
And now he draws! first Brontin's Name appears,
Thrice happy Name to cure the Prelates fears!
For
