We pass the greetings, and the dinner pass,
All the male gossip o’er the sparkling glass,
And female, when retired.—The Squire invites
His Friend, by sleep refresh’d, to see his sights—
His land and lions, granary, barns, and crops, }
His dairy, piggery, pinery, apples, hops;— }
But here a hill appears, and Peter Rayner stops. }
“Ah! my old Friend, I give you joy,” he cries; 210
“But some are born to fall, and some to rise;
You’re better many a thousand, I the worse—