Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/236

Famished the one, meagre, and lean of plight,
As a cast poet, who for bread does write;
The other fat, and plump, as prebend was,
Pampered with luxury and holy ease.
⁠Thus met, with compliments, too long to tell,
Of being glad to see each other well:
’How now. Sir Towzer?’ said the wolf, ’I pray,
Whence comes it that you look so sleek and gay,
While I, who do as well, I am sure, deserve,
For want of livelihood am like to starve?’
⁠’Troth, sir,' replied the dog, ' 't has been my fate,
I thank the friendly stars, to hap of late
On a kind master, to whose care I owe
All this good flesh wherewith you see me now.
From his rich voider every day I'm fed
With bones of fowls, and crusts of finest bread;
With fricassee, ragout, and whatsoe'er
Of costly kickshaws now in fashion are,
And more variety of boiled and roast,
Than a Lord Mayor's waiter e'er could boast.
Then, sir, 'tis hardly credible to tell,
How I'm respected and beloved by all;
I'm the delight of the whole family,
Not darling Shock more favourite than I;
I never sleep abroad, to air exposed,
But in my warm apartment am inclosed;
There on fresh bed of straw, with canopy
Of hutch above, like dog of state I lie.
Besides, when with high fare and nature fired,
To generous sports of youth I am inspired,
All the proud shes are soft to my embrace,
From bitch of quality down to turnspit race;
Each day I try new mistresses and loves,
Nor envy sovereign dogs in their alcoves.
Thus happy I of all enjoy the best,
No mortal cur on earth yet half so blessed;
And farther to enhance the happiness,
All this I get by idleness and. ease,'