For none can say that ever yet We both in one opinion met: Not in philosophy, or ale; In state affairs, or planting kale; In rhetoric, or picking straws; In roasting larks, or making laws; In public schemes, or catching flies; In parliaments, or pudding pies. The neighbours wonder why the knight Should in a country life delight, Who not one pleasure entertains To cheer the solitary scenes: His guests are few, his visits rare; Nor uses time, nor time will spare; Nor rides, nor walks, nor hunts, nor fowls, Nor plays at cards, or dice, or bowls; But seated in an easy-chair, Despises exercise and air. His rural walks he ne'er adorns; Here poor Pomona sits on thorns: And there neglected Flora settles Her bum upon a bed of nettles. Those thankless and officious cares I used to take in friends' affairs, From which I never could refrain, And have been often chid in vain; From these I am recover'd quite, At least in what regards the knight. Preserve his health, his store increase; May nothing interrupt his peace! But now let all his tenants round First milk his cows, and after, pound; Let every cottager conspire To cut his hedges down for fire; The naughty boys about the village His crabs and sloes may freely pillage; He still may keep a pack of knaves To spoil his work, and work by halves; His meadows may be dug by swine, It shall be no concern of mine; For why should I continue still To serve a friend against his will? [Footnote 1: Sir Arthur Acheson's great-grandfather was Sir Archibald, of Gosford, in Scotland.] THE REVOLUTION AT MARKET-HILL 1730