"Why stood he there, himself could scarcely tell; But there he had not stood, had Things gone well: Had one poor Half-penny but blest his Fob, } Or, if in Prospect he had seen a Job, } H'had strain'ed his Credit for a Dram of Bob,[133] } But now, in pensive Mood, with Head down cast, His Eyes transfix'd as tho' they look'd their last; One Hand his open Bosom lightly held, And one an empty Breeches Pocket fill'd. His Dowlas Shirt no Stock or Cravat bore, And on his Head, no Hat or Wig he wore; But a once black shag Cap, surcharg'd with Sweat; His Collar, here a Hole, and there a Pleat; Both grown alike in Colour, that--alack! This, neither now was White, nor that was Black; But match'd his dirty yellow Beard so true, They form'd a three-fold Cast of Brick dust Hue; Meagre his Look, and in his nether Jaw Was stuff'd an elemosynary Chaw;[134] (Whose Juice serves present Hunger to asswage, Which yet returns again with tenfold Rage;) His Coat, which catch'd the Droppings from his Chin, Was clos'd at Bottom with a Corking-Pin; His Breeches Waistband a long Skewer made fast, While he from _Scotland_ Dunghill[135] snatch'd in Haste; His Shirt-Tail thin as Lawn, but not so white, Barely conceal'd his lank Affairs from Sight; Loose were his Knee Bands, and unty'd his Hose, Coax'd[136] in the Heel, in pulling o'er his Toes; Which spite of all his circumspective Care, Did thro' his broken dirty Shoes appear. "Just in this hapless Trim and pensive Plight, The old Collegian[137] stood confess'd to Sight; Whom, when our new-come Guest at first beheld, He started back, with great Amazement fill'd; Turns to the Chamberlain, says, bless my Eyes! } Is this the Man you told me was so nice? } I meant his Room was so Sir, he replies; } The Man is now in Dishabille and Dirt, He shaves To-morrow tho', and turns his Shirt; Stand not at Distance, I'll present you, come My Friend, how is't? I've brought you here a Chum; One that's a Gentleman; a worthy Man, And you'll oblige me, serve him all you can.