To Mr. Hen. Fane

POor foolish Dick, stung by his Brother Gnat,
Jump'd out of Bed to fetch old Proctor's Cat.
Mouser, thô a brave Souldier, lost his sport,
For Mouser could not speak the Language of the Court;
Nor understand what formal Priscian said
In Babel's Tongue, thô othewise well bred.
With that Don Quixot's Rival would engage
Gingerbread Gentleman in warlike rage,
Rapt out a terrible dimidiate Oath,
And in his own defence, Sir, challeng'd both:
His Rapier out of rusty Scabbard drew;
But Puss, who his undaunted Courage knew,
All on a sweat, down Stairs like Lightning flew.
Nor shall he so escape by all the Gods,
(Says Sancho Pancho Dick) for two to one is odds.
Spaniard tied neck and heels he laid upon his back,
And hung him by his Whiskers on the Rack.
Friend Gnat! (quoth he) thô now I'm almost spent,
Yet thy affront I cannot but resent.
All night I'll make thee at a distance keep,
Put on revenge when I put off my sleep.
This said, as merciful as he was stout,
Knight Errant put his Royal Candle out.
(Candles Traditional, so long, so large, so white,
Worthy to give the King and Dicky light;
Worthy to make a Fairy-ring on Birth-day-night.
Fit Torches for a Sacrifice to Clio,
A heavenly Muse made of a waxen Io.)
And then a Hymn Poean the Champion sang,
Defy'd Gnat, Bug, or Flea, all the Backbiting Gang.
Afraid that they should hear, in Whispers said, Good Night!
And hugg'd himself to think they could not see to bite.