Didst into all his hidden inclinations dive,
What each from nature does receive,
Or age, or sex, or quality, or country give;
What custom too, that mighty sorceress,
Whose powerful witchcraft does transform
Enchanted man to several monstrous images,
Makes this an odd, and freakish monkey turn,
And that a grave and solemn ass appear,
And all a thousand beastly shapes of folly wear:
Whate'er caprice or whimsey leads awry
Perverted and seduced mortality,
Or does incline, and bias it
From what's discreet, and wise, and right, and good and fit;
All in thy faithful glass were so expressed,
As if they were reflections of thy breast,
As if they had been stamped on thy own mind,
And thou the universal vast idea of mankind.
7
Though every dish, well-cooked by thee,
Contained a plentiful variety;
To all that could sound relishing palates be,
Each regale with new delicacies did invite,
Courted the taste, and raised the appetite:
Whate'er fresh dainty fops in season were,
To garnish and set out thy bill of fare;
(Those never found to fail throughout the year,
For seldom that ill-natured planet rules,
That plagues a poet with a dearth of fools)
What thy strict observation e'er surveyed.
From the fine, luscious spark of high and courtly breed,
Down to the dull insipid cit,
Made thy pleased audience entertainment fit,
Served up with all the grateful poignancies of wit.
