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s Thomas was cudgeld one day by his wife,

He took to the street, and fled for his life: Tom's three dearest friends came by in the squabble, And sav'd him at once from the shrew and the rabble ; Then ventur'd to give him some sober advice But Tom is a person of honour so nice, Too wise to take counsel, to proud to take warning, That he sent to all three a challenge next morning : Three duels he fought, thrice ventur'd his life; Went home, and was cudgeld again by his wife.


1712. ΤΗ

HIS day (the year I dare not tell)

Apollo play'd the midwife's part ;
Into the world Corinna fell,

And he endow'd her with his art.
But Cupid with a Satyr comes ;
Both softly to the cradle

Both ítroke her hands, and rub her gumt,

While the poor child lay fast sleep.
Then Cupid thus : This litle maid

Of Love shall always speak and write.
And I pronounce (the Satyr said)

Tbc world shall feel her scratch, and bite.


Her talent she display'd betimes ;

For in twice twelve revolving moons,
She seem'd to laugh and squall in rhymes,

And all her gestures were lampoons.
Ac fix years old the subtle jade

Stole to the pantry-door, and found
The butler with my lady's maid :

And you may swear the tale went round.
She made a song, how little miss

Was kiss'd and Nobber'd by a lad :
And how when mafter went to pa,

Miss came, and peep'd at all he had.
At twelve a wit and a coquette ;

Marries for love, half whore, half wife.
Cuckolds, elopes, and runs in debt;

Turns authoress, and is Curll's for life.


Imitated from HORACE, lib. I. epift. 5o


F, deareft Dismal, you for once can dine

Upon a single dish, and cavern-wine,
Toland to you this invitation fends,
To eat the calves-head with your trufty friends.

* This poem, and that which follows it, are two of the penny papers mentioned in Swift's Journal to Stella, Aug. 7. 1712. They are here printed froin folio copies in the Lambeth Library.


Suspend a while your vain ambitious hopes,
Leave hunting after bribes, forget your tropes.
To-morrow we our mystic feast prepare,
Where thou, our latest profelyte, thalt share":
When we, by proper signs and symbols, tell,
How, by brave bands, the royal traitor fell;
The meat shall represent the tyrant's head,
The wine his blood our predecessors fhed;
Whilst an alluding hymn fome artist fings,
We toast, “ Confusion to the race of kings !"
At monarchy we nobly thew pur spight,
And talk what fools call treason all the night.

Who, by disgraces or ill-fortune sunk,
Feels not his foul enliven'd when he 's drunk
Wine can clear up Godolphin's cloudy face,
And fill Jack Smith with hopes to keep his place :
By force of wine, ev’n Scarborough is brave,
Hal grows more pert, and Somers not so grave;
Wine can give Portland wit, and Cleveland sense,
Montague learning, Bolton eloquence :
Cholmondeley, when drunk, can never lose his wand;
And Lincoln then imagines he has land.

My province is, to fee that all be right, Glasses and linen clean, and pewter bright; From our myfierious club to keep out spies, And Tories (dress'd like waiters) in disguise. You shall be coupled as you


approve, Seated at table next the inen you love. Sunderland, Orford, Boyle, and Richmond's Grace, Will come; and Hampden shall have Walpole's place. VOL. I.


Wharton, unless prevented by a whore,
Will hardly fail; and there is room for more.
But I love elbow-room whene'er I drink ;
And honest Harry * is too apt to stink.

Let no pretence of business make you stay ;
Yet take one word of counsel by the way.
If Guernsey calls, send word you 're gone abroad;
He 'll teaze you with King Charles and Bishop Laud,
Or make you fast, and carry you to prayers :
But, if he will break-in, and walk up stairs,
Steal by the back-door out, and leave him there;
Then order Squash to call a hackney-chair.

РЕА СЕ AN D DUNKIRK; Being an excellent new Song upon the Surrender of

DUNKIRK to General Hill. 1712.
To the Tune of, “The King shall enjoy his own again.”

SPIGHT of Dutch friends and English focs,

Poor Britain shall have peace at last :
Holland got towns, and we got blows ;
But Dunkirk 's ours, we 'll hold it fast.

We have got it in a string,

And the Whigs may all go swing,
Por among good friends I love to be plain;

All their false deluded hopes

Will or ought to end in ropes;
But the Queen fall enjoy ber own again.
Right Hon. Henry Boyle, mentioned twice before.

II. Sun

Sunderland 's run out of his wits,

And Dismal double-Dismal looks;
Wharton can only swear by fits,
And strutting Hal is off the hooks,

Old Godolphin full of spleen

Made false moves, and lost his queen; Harry look'd fierce, and shook his ragged mane :

But a prince of high renown

Swore he 'd rather lose a crown,
Than the Queen foulut enjoy her own again.

Our merchant-Ships may cut the Line,

And not be snapt by privateers,
And commoners who love good wine
Will drink it now as well as peers :

Landed-men shall have their rent,

Yet our stocks rise cent. per cent. The Dutch from hence shall no more millions drain:

We 'll bring on us no more debts,

Nor with bankrupts fill Gazettes ;
And the Queen fall enjoy her own again.

The towns we took ne'er did us good :

What signified the French to beat ?
We spent our money and our blood,
To make the Dutchmen proud and great :

But the lord of Oxford swears,
Dunkirk never shall be theirs.

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