XXX.
ON WAT.
[The name of the object of this fierce epigram might be found, but in gratifying curiosity, some pain would be inflicted.]
Sic a reptile was Wat,
Sic a miscreant slave,
That the very worms damn’d him
When laid in his grave.
“In his flesh there’s a famine,”
A starv’d reptile cries;
“An’ his heart is rank poison,”
Another replies.
XXXI.
ON CAPTAIN FRANCIS GROSE.
[This was a festive sally: it is said that Grose, who was very fat, though he joined in the laugh, did not relish it.]
The devil got notice that Grose was a-dying,
So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;
But when he approach’d where poor Francis lay moaning,
And saw each bed-post with its burden a-groaning,
Astonish’d! confounded! cry’d Satan, “By ——,
I’ll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!”