[1] Written In August, 1702 I Once On A Time, As Old Stories Rehearse, A Friar Would Need Show His Talent In Latin; But Was Sorely Put To 'T In The Midst Of A Verse, Because He Could Find No Word To Come Pat In; Then All In The Place He Left A Void Space, And So Went To Bed In A Desperate Case: When Behold The Next Morning A Wonderful Riddle! He Found It Was Strangely Fill'D Up In The Middle. Cho. Let Censuring Critics Then Think What They List On'T; Who Would Not Write Verses With Such An Assistant? Ii This Put Me The Friar Into An Amazement; For He Wisely Consider'D It Must Be A Sprite; That He Came Through The Keyhole, Or In At The Casement; And It Needs Must Be One That Could Both Read And Write; Yet He Did Not Know, If It Were Friend Or Foe, Or Whether It Came From Above Or Below; Howe'Er, It Was Civil, In Angel Or Elf, For He Ne'er Could Have Fill'D It So Well Of Himself. Cho. Let Censuring, & C. Iii Even So Master Doctor Had Puzzled His Brains In Making A Ballad, But Was At A Stand; He Had Mixt Little Wit With A Great Deal Of Pains, When He Found A New Help From Invisible Hand. Then, Good Doctor Swift Pay Thanks For The Gift, For You Freely Must Own You Were At A Dead Lift; And, Though Some Malicious Young Spirit Did Do'T, You May Know By The Hand It Had No Cloven Foot. Cho. Let Censuring, & C.