That statesmen have the worm, is seen
By all their winding play;
Their conscience is a worm within,
That gnaws them night and day.
Ah Moore! thy skill were well employ'd,
And greater gain would rise,
If thou couldst make the courtier void
The worm that never dies!
O learned friend of Abchurch lane,
Who sett'st our entrails free!
Vain is thy art, thy powder vain,
Since worms shall eat ev'n thee!
Our fate thou only canst adjourn
Some few short years, no more!
Ev'n Button's[1] wits to worms shall turn,
Who maggots were before.
VERSES
OCCASIONED BY AN &C. AT THE END OF MR. D'URFY'S NAME, IN THE TITLE TO ONE OF HIS PLAYS[2].
JOVE call'd before him t' other day
The vowels, U, O, I, E, A;
All diphthongs, and all consonants,
Either of England, or of France;
And all that were, or wish'd to be,
Rank'd in the name of Tom D'Urfy.
- ↑ Button's coffeehouse, in Covent garden, frequented by the wits of that time.
- ↑ This accident happened by Mr. D'Urfy's having made a flourish there, which the printer mistook for an &c.
