d I, "I think it as good as the former." "I am very
glad to hear you say so," says he; "but mind the next:

"_You seem a sister of the Nine._

"That is," says he, "you seem a sister of the Muses; for if you look
into ancient authors, you will find it was their opinion, that there
were nine of them." "I remember it very well," said I; "but pray
proceed."

"_Or Phoebus' self in petticoats._

"Phoebus," says he, "was the God of Poetry. These little instances,
Mr. Bickerstaff, show a gentleman's reading. Then to take off from the
air of learning, which Phoebus and the Muses have given to this first
stanza, you may observe how it falls all of a sudden into the familiar;
'in petticoats!'

"_Or Phoebus' self in petticoats._"

"Let us now," says I, "enter upon the second stanza. I find the first
line is still a continuation of the metaphor:

"_I fancy, when your song you sing._"

"It is very right," says he; "but pray observe the turn of words in
those two lines. I was a whole hour in adjusting of them, and have still
a doubt upon me, whether in the second line it should be, 'Your song you
sing'; or, 'You sing your song'? You shall hear them both:

"_I fancy, when your song you sing
(Your song you sing with so much art)._"

Or,

"_I fancy, when your song you sing
(You sing your song with so much art)._"

"Truly," said I, "the turn is so natural either way, that you have made
me almost giddy with it." "Dear sir," said he, grasping me by the hand,
"you have a great deal of patience; but pray what do you think of the
next verse:

"_Your pen was plucked from Cupid's wing?_"

"Think!" says I; "I think you have made Cupid look like a little goose."
"That was my meaning," says he; "I think the ridicule is well enough hit
off. But we now come to the last, which sums up the whole matter:

"_For ah! it wounds me like his dart._

"Pray, how do you like that 'Ah!' Does it not make a pretty figure in
that place? 'Ah!' It looks as if I felt the dart, and cried out at being
pricked with it:

"_For ah! it wounds me like his dart._

"My friend Dick Easy,"[233] continued he, "assured me he would rather
have written that 'Ah!' than to have been the author of the 'AEneid.' He
indeed objected that I made Mira's pen like a quill in one of the lines,
and like a dart in the other. But as to that--" "Oh! as to that," says
I, "it is but supposing Cupid to be like a porcupine, and hi