The Love Of The World Reproved: Or, Hypocrisy Detected.

Thus says the prophet of the Turk,
Good Mussulman, abstain from pork;
There is a part in every swine
No friend of follower of mine
May taste, whateer his inclination,
On pain of excommunication.
Such Mahomets mysterious charge,
And thus he left the point at large.
Had he the sinful part expressd,
They might with safety eat the rest;
But for one piece they thought it hard
From the whole hog to be debarrd;
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
Much controversy straight arose,
These choose the back, the belly those;
By some tis confidently said
He meant not to forbid the head;
While others at that doctrine rail,
And piously prefer the tail.
Thus, conscience freed from every clog,
Mahometans eat up the hog.
You laughtis wellthe tale applied
May make you laugh on tother side.
Renounce the worldthe preacher cries.
We doa multitude replies.
While one as innocent regards
A snug and friendly game at cards;
And one, whatever you may say,
Can see no evil in a play;
Some love a concert, or a race;
And others shooting, and the chase.
Reviled and loved, renounced and followd,
Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallowd;
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free,
Yet likes a slice as well as he:
With sophistry their sauce they sweeten,
Till quite from tail to snout tis eaten.

William Cowper

William Cowper was an English poet and hymnodist known for his contributions to English literature and the Evangelical revival of the 18th century. He suffered from periods of severe depression and mental illness, which influenced much of his work. Despite his struggles, Cowper produced notable works including 'Olney Hymns' in collaboration with John Newton and 'The Task,' which gained considerable popularity. His poetry is often characterized by its introspective, religious, and sometimes melancholic themes.

William Cowper

Prayer For A Blessing On The Young.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

On The Receipt Of My Mothers Picture Out Of Norfolk, The Gift Of My Cousin, Ann Bodham.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Joy And Peace In Believing.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Epitaph On A Hare.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

English

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To The Reverend ----. One Of The Sixteen Requisitionists Of Nottingham.

What, you, too, my ******, in hashes so knowing,
    Of sauces and soups Aristarchus profest!
Are you, too, my savory Brunswicker, going
    To make an old fool of yourself with the rest?

Far better to stick to your kitchen receipts;
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Go study how Ude, in his "Cookery," treats
    Live eels when he fits them for polisht society.

Just snuggling them in, 'twixt the bars of the fire,
    He leaves them to wriggle and writhe on the coals,^[1]
In a manner that Horner himself would admire,
    And wish, 'stead of eels, they were Catholic souls.

Ude tells us the fish little suffering feels;
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A Dream Of Hindostan.

        --risum tenaetis, amici


"The longer one lives, the more one learns,"
    Said I, as off to sleep I went,
Bemused with thinking of Tithe concerns,
And reading a book by the Bishop of FERNS,^[1]
    On the Irish Church Establishment.
But lo! in sleep not long I lay,
    When Fancy her usual tricks began,
And I found myself bewitched away
    To a goodly city in Hindostan--
A city where he who dares to dine
    On aught but rice is deemed a sinner;
Where sheep and kine are held divine,
    And accordingly--never drest for dinner.

"But how is this?" I wondering cried--
As I walkt that city fair and wide,
And saw, in every marble street,
    A row of beautiful butchers' shops--
"What means, for men who don't eat ...

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Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter VI.

FROM ABDALLAH,^[1] IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, IN ISPAHAN.


Whilst thou, Mohassan, (happy thou!)
Dost daily bend thy loyal brow
Before our King--our Asia's treasure!
Nutmeg of Comfort: Rose of Pleasure!--
And bearest as many kicks and bruises
As the said Rose and Nutmeg chooses;
Thy head still near the bowstring's borders.
And but left on till further orders--
Thro' London streets with turban fair,
And caftan floating to the air,
I saunter on, the admiration
Of this short-coated population--
This sewed-up race--this buttoned nation--
Who while they boast their laws so free
Leave not one limb at liberty,
But live with all their lordly speeches
The slaves of buttons and tight breeches.

    Yet tho' they thus their knee-pans fette...

Thomas Moore

The Hog, The Goat, And The Sheep.

^[1]

A goat, a sheep, and porker fat,
All to the market rode together.
Their own amusement was not that
Which caused their journey thither.
Their coachman did not mean to 'set them down'
To see the shows and wonders of the town.
The porker cried, in piercing squeals,
As if with butchers at his heels.
The other beasts, of milder mood,
The cause by no means understood.
They saw no harm, and wonder'd why
At such a rate the hog should cry.
'Hush there, old piggy!' said the man,
'And keep as quiet as you can.
What wrong have you to squeal about,
And raise this dev'lish, deaf'ning shout?
These stiller persons at your side
Have manners much more dignified.
Pray, have you heard
A single word
Come from that gentleman in wool?

Jean de La Fontaine

A Tale, Founded On A Fact, Which Happened In January 1779.

Where Humber pours his rich commercial stream
There dwelt a wretch, who breathed but to blaspheme;
In subterraneous caves his life he led,
Black as the mine in which he wrought for bread.
When on a day, emerging from the deep,
A Sabbath-day (such Sabbaths thousands keep!),
The wages of his weekly toil he bore
To buy a cockwhose blood might win him more;
As if the noblest of the featherd kind
Were but for battle and for death designd;
As if the consecrated hours were meant
For sport, to minds on cruelty intent;
It chanced (such chances Providence obey)
He met a fellow-labourer on the way,
Whose heart the same desires had once inflamed;
But now the savage temper was reclaimd,
Persuasion on his lips had taken place;
For all plead well who plead the cause...

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A Fable Of The Lion And Other Beasts

One time a mighty plague did pester
All beasts domestic and sylvester,
The doctors all in concert join'd,
To see if they the cause could find;
And tried a world of remedies,
But none could conquer the disease.
The lion in this consternation.
Sends out his royal proclamation,
To all his loving subjects greeting,
Appointing them a solemn meeting:
And when they're gather'd round his den,
He spoke, - My lords and gentlemen,
I hope you're met full of the sense
Of this devouring pestilence;
For sure such heavy punishment,
On common crimes is rarely sent;
It must be some important cause,
Some great infraction of the laws.
Then let us search our consciences,
And every one his faults confess:
Let's judge from biggest to the least
That he that i...

Jonathan Swift