The son he wish'd might be to honour train'd;
His Friend—lest fierce intruding heirs should come,
To waste his hoard and vex his quiet home.
520
Dawkins, a dealer once on burthen'd back
Bore his whole substance in a pedler's pack;
To dames discreet, the duties yet unpaid,
His stores of lace and hyson he convey'd.
When thus enrich'd, he chose at home to stop,
And fleece his neighbours in a new-built shop;