The Chairman still up, when our devil came away;
Having prefaced his speech with the usual state prayer,
That the Three-headed Dian would kindly, this day,
Take the Silversmiths' Company under her care.
Being askt by some low, unestablisht divines,
"When your churches are up, where are flocks to be got?"
He manfully answered, "Let _us_ build the shrines,[2]
"And we care not if flocks are found for them or not."
He then added--to show that the Silversmiths' Guild
Were above all confined and intolerant views--
"Only _pay_ thro' the nose to the altars we build,
"You may _pray_ thro' the nose to what altars you choose."
This tolerance, rare from a shrine-dealer's lip
(Tho' a tolerance mixt with due taste for the till)--
So much charmed all the holders of scriptural scrip,
That their shouts of "Hear!" "Hear!" are re-echoing still.
_Fourth edition_.
Great stir in the Shrine Market! altars to Phoebus
Are going dog-cheap--may be had for a rebus.
Old Dian's, as usual, outsell all the rest;--
But Venus's also are much in request.
[1] "For a certain man named Demetrius, a silversmith, which made shrines
for Diana, brought no small gain unto the craftsmen: whom he called
together with the workmen of like occupation, and said, Sirs, ye know that
by this craft we have our wealth[.
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