To the Printer of the Leicester and Nottingham Journal.
As you have lately favoured the Public with a Strophe and Antistrophe, on the TOWN of BOSWORTH, and an Epodos is wanting, to complete the MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT—for want of a better, please insert in your next, the following from,
Phil-Atheles Attack on Phil-Bosworth is keen,
And betwixt them, they cure us of Vapours and Spleen,
The neutral Spectator’s diverted to see
A resemblance of Batrachomyomachy.
Who’d ha’ thought, these high Bloods, in our last Dregs of Time,
Should retain such a Passion for Rattle and Rhyme?
Their Pen and their Poinards no Respite can find;
To stabbing, these Heroes so much are inclined.
Take Breath—or our Pleasure is sure to be Pain:
We shall see one, or both of you dead on the Plain.
Might Hostilities cease, and you Philos unite,
No Fighter, or Writer darest do you despite.
Your Alliance would drive away Scandal and Strife,
And folks might be quiet, all the Days of their Life,
Your BOSWORTH would flourish, your GRACES and LOVES,
Would come back in their Coach, drawn by VENUS’S DOVES;
By your Prowess protected, they’d leave you no more,
But would make you more happy, than ever before.
[Note: The earlier poems presumably appeared in missing Journal editions of 9th, 16th or 23rd September]