Alexandria Daily Advertiser

For the Alexandria Daily Advertiser

A PEACE OFFERING

TO AN

INCENSED DEMOCRAT.

Who is this that so querulously civility preaches'

On a sheet grim as Erin's "poor last-dying

"Tis your old friend the Salt Mountain Democrat,

A smart youth observ'd, full of fun and of chat,

speeches?"

a scorner;

"I lately perceiv'd him demure in his den,

"His empty head scratching and chewing his

pen;

"I hop'd in embryo the bantling to nip,

But it wriggled away and eluded my grip:

"A Hog with a greased tail will slip through

the hand,

"And grunting resume on the dunghill his

stand."

I look'd at his sternposts, so clumsy and rough,

And view'd my old friend's cloven foot sure e-nough.

O fic, Mr. Snowden! - Learn merit to cherish,

Nor let it with rubbish ingloriously perish;

To keep it so long too! I'll have you to know

"Twas wrong, 'twas passing wrong.-I'll speak

to't Heigh ho!

Hail Adept in writing in prose and in verse!

Thy lucid epistle's so monstrous terse.

No person can think thee a literary fop

To own thy friends Addison, and smooth flowing

Pope;

Nay more, great Wiesacre, 'tis plain from thy

drift,

Thou'rt closely ally'd to his Reverence Dean

Swift:

But it is not thy business so bluntly to tell.

How they shipped thee off for a never do well.

And dost thou sometimes deal in metrical

stuff,

For simple amusement, as youngsters take snuff,

Oh, then thy poor brains must have many a-throes,

Thou art, it is clear, at a pinch with thy prose.

I'll warrant thy verses are both fine, and witty,

Stole from the sweet page of many an old ditty:

But pray keep thy rhyme grinders tight in their

gears,

For truly I have my suspicions and fears,

That the demon of nonsense a crazy old tory,

Has rais'd a rebellion in thy upper story.

What, "ten gills"! Since thou to full age didst

attain,

Sobriety pure--but I think thou must mean,

To years of discretion, when judgment's ma-tured,

A point not yet reach'd thou mayst be assur'd.

Come make a bold push to mend thy powers of

thinking,

They may be improved, not lessen'd by drinking

Of whiskey, or such democratical fare,

Till thou art as frisky and mad's a March Hare.

With plenty of "Alum" to work up the vat,

Thou hardly can miss to get wondrous fat;

Then when thou'rt exhausted crawl into some

Still,

Where nought thou wilt lie as a gnat in a Mill:

If ever thou dare in broad day to come out,

Resolved like Satan to kick up a rout,

And scatter thy crude fetid faeces in print,

The muses have slyly imparted a hint

That satire must shield their good friend common

sense,

And urge that I should due chastisement di-spense

With a rod which has long, in Parnassus's vault,

Been steep'd in a pickle of Pepper and Salt;

A cod smart and staunch as a straining switch

Applied with judgment to thy learned breech

Might free thee perhaps from thy publishing itch.

Yet till thou mayst scribble, tho' roll'd in the

dust,

Ambitious of glory! If so I do trust,

When laid on with vigour, some indignant splin-ter

Will fly from thy carcase, and stick in thy Prin-ter.

February 27.