Bounce to Fop: An heroick epistle from a dog at Twickenham to a dog at court. By Dr. S----t.

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

- ERRATA.

BOUNCE TO FOP.

TO thee, sweet Fop, these Lines I send,

Who, tho' no Spaniel, am a Friend.

Tho, once my Tail in wanton play,

Now frisking this, and then that way,

Chanc'd, with a Touch of just the Tip,

To hurt your Lady-lap-dog-ship;

Yet thence to think I'd bite your Head off!

Sure Bounce is one you never read of.

FOP! you can dance, and make a Leg,

Can fetch and carry, cringe and beg,

And (what's the Top of all your Tricks)

Can stoop to pick up Strings and Sticks.

We Country Dogs love nobler Sport,

And scorn the Pranks of Dogs at Court.

Fye, naughty Fop! where e'er you come

To f_+t and p_+ss about the Room,

To lay your Head in every Lap,

And, when they think not of you—snap!

The worst that Envy, or that Spite

E'er said of me, is, I can bite:

That sturdy Vagrants, Rogues in Rags,

Who poke at me, can make no Brags;

And that to towze such Things as flutter,

To honest Bounce is Bread and Butter.

While you, and every courtly Fop,

Fawn on the Devil for a Chop,

I've the Humanity to hate

A Butcher, tho' he brings me Meat;

And let me tell you, have a Nose,

(Whatever stinking Fops suppose)

That under Cloth of Gold or Tissue,

Can smell a Plaister, or an Issue.

Your pilf'ring Lord, with simple Pride,

May wear a Pick-lock at his Side;

My Master wants no Key of State,

For Bounce can keep his House and Gate.

When all such Dogs have had their Days,

As knavish Pams, and fawning Trays;

When pamper'd Cupids, beastly Veni's,

And motly, squinting Harvequini's,

Shall lick no more their Lady's Br_+,

But die of Looseness, Claps, or Itch;

Fair Thames from either ecchoing Shore

Shall hear, and dread my manly Roar.

See Bounce, like Berecynthia, crown'd

With thund'ring Offspring all around,

Beneath, beside me, and a top,

A hundred Sons! and not one Fop.

Before my Children set your Beef,

Not one true Bounce will be a Thief;

Not one without Permission feed,

(Tho' some of J_+ 's hungry Breed)

But whatsoe'er the Father's Race,

From me they suck a little Grace.

While your fine Whelps learn all to steal,

Bred up by Hand on Chick and Veal.

My Eldest-born resides not far,

Where shines great Strafford's glittering Star:

My second (Child of Fortune!) waits

At Burlington's Palladian Gates:

A third majestically stalks

(Happiest of Dogs!) in Cobham's Walks:

One ushers Friends to Bathurst's Door;

One fawns, at Oxford's, on the Poor.

Nobles, whom Arms or Arts adorn,

Wait for my Infants yet unborn.

None but a Peer of Wit and Grace,

Can hope a Puppy of my Race.

And O! wou'd Fate the Bliss decree

To mine (a Bliss too great for me)

That two, my tallest Sons, might grace

Attending each with stately Pace,

Iulus' Side, as erst Evander's,[*]

To keep off Flatt'rers, Spies, and Panders,

To let no noble Slave come near,

And scare Lord Fannys from his Ear:

Then might a Royal Youth, and true,

Enjoy at least a Friend—or two:

A Treasure, which, of Royal kind,

Few but Himself deserve to find.

Then Bounce ('tis all that Bounce can crave)

Shall wag her Tail within the Grave.

And tho' no Doctors, Whig or Tory ones,

Except the Sect of Pythagoreans,

Have Immortality assign'd

To any Beast, but [†] Dryden's Hind:

Yet Master Pope, whom Truth and Sense

Shall call their Friend some Ages hence,

Tho' now on loftier Themes he sings

Than to bestow a Word on Kings,

Has sworn by Sticks (the Poet's Oath,

And Dread of Dogs and Poets both)

Man and his Works he'll soon renounce,

And roar in Numbers worthy Bounce.

FINIS.

Notes

*
Virg. Aen. VIII.
↵

†
A Milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang'd. Ver. I. Of the Hind and Panther.
↵

BOUNCE to FOP. AN HEROICK EPISTLE.

By Dr. S—T.

[Price Six-Pence.]

BOUNCE TO FOP.

AN HEROICK EPISTLE FROM A DOG at TWICKENHAM TO A DOG at COURT.

By Dr. S—T.

DUBLIN, Printed, LONDON, Reprinted for T. COOPER, in Paternoster-Row. M.DCC.XXXVI.

ERRATA.

Page 7. Line 14. for Harvequini's, read Harlequini's.

Information about this book

Title statement

Bounce to Fop: An heroick epistle from a dog at Twickenham to a dog at court. By Dr. S----t.

Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744.

Publication

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University of Oxford Text Archive
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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3665

ID [isbn10]

110600664X

ID [isbn13]

9781106006646

ID [TCP]

K023014.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3310471557

ID [ECLL]

0090106600

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— Bounce to Fop: An heroick epistle from a dog at Twickenham to a dog at court. By Dr. S----t., Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744., Swift, Jonathan, 1667-1745.. 11,[1]p. ; 2⁰. [London] :: Dublin, printed, London, reprinted for T. Cooper,. 1736.. [With a half-title.] ["It is generally agreed that the original idea was Swift's, but that the writing is largely by Pope" (Foxon).] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [Foxon, B326] [Teerink, 976] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT5522.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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