One cannot chew while yawning.

Seat not good talkers one next one,
As Jacquier beards the Clarendon;
Thus shrouded you undo 'em;
Rather confront them, face to face,
Like Holles-street and Harewood-place,
And let the town run through 'em.

Poets are dangerous to sit nigh--
You waft their praises to the sky,
And when you think you're stirring
Their gratitude, they bite you. (That's
The reason I object to cats--
They scratch amid their purring.)

For those who ask you if you "malt,"
Who "beg your pardon" for the salt,
And ape our upper grandees,
By wondering folks can touch Port-wine;
That, reader's your affair, not mine--
I never mess with dandies.

Relations mix not kindly; shun
Inviting brothers; sire and son
Is not a wise selection:
Too intimate, they either jar
In converse, or the evening mar
By mutual circumspection.