The Dean of St. Patrick's to Thomas Sheridan

SIR,I cannot but think that we live in a bad age,O tempora, O mores! as 'tis in the adage.My foot was but just set out from my cathedral,When into my hands comes a letter from the droll.I can't pray in quiet for you and your verses;But now let us hear what the Muse from your car says.Hum--excellent good--your anger was stirr'd;Well, punners and rhymers must have the last word.But let me advise you, when next I hear from you,To leave off this passion which does not become you;For we who debate on a subject important,Must argue with calmness, or else will come short on't.For myself, I protest, I care not a fiddle,For a riddle and sieve, or a sieve and a riddle;And think of the sex as you please, I'd as lieveYou call them a riddle, as call them a sieve.Yet still you are out, (though to vex you I'm loth,)For I'll prove it impossible they can be both;A school-boy knows this, for it plainly appearsThat a sieve dissolves riddles by help of the shears;For you can't but have heard of a trick among wizards,To break open riddles with shears or with scissars.Think again of the sieve, and I'll hold you a wager,You'll dare not to question my minor or major.A sieve keeps half in, and therefore, no doubt,Like a woman, keeps in less than it lets out.Why sure, Mr. Poet, your head got a-jar,By riding this morning too long in your car:And I wish your few friends, when they next see your cargo,For the sake of your senses would lay an embargo.You threaten the stocks; I say you are scurrilousAnd you durst not talk thus, if I saw you at our ale-house.But as for your threats, you may do what you canI despise any poet that truckled to DanBut keep a good tongue, or you'll find to your smartFrom rhyming in cars, you may swing in a cart.You found out my rebus with very much modesty;But thanks to the lady; I'm sure she's too good to ye:Till she lent you her help, you were in a fine twitter;You hit it, you say;--you're a delicate hitter.How could you forget so ungratefully a lass,And if you be my Phoebus, pray who was your Pallas?As for your new rebus, or riddle, or crux,I will either explain, or repay it by trucks;Though your lords, and your dogs, and your catches, methinks,Are harder than ever were put by the Sphinx.And thus I am fully revenged for your late tricks,Which is all at present from the