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The wedding-day, you take me right,
I promise nothing for the night.
The Bridegroom, dreft to make a figure,
Assumes an artificial vigour;
A fourith'd night-cap on, to grace
His ruddy, wrinkled, smiling face ;
Like the faint red upon a piprin,
Half wither'd by a winter's keeping.

And thus set out this happy pair,
The Swain is rich, the Nymph is fair ;
But, what I gladly would forget,
The Swain is old, the Nymph coquette.
Both from the goal together start,
Scarce run a ftep before they part;
No common ligament that binds
The various textures of their minds ;
Their thoughts and actions, hopes and fears,
Lels corresponding than their years.
Her spouse de fires his coffee foon,
She rises to her tea at noon.
While he goes out to cheapen books,
She at her glass consults her looks;
While Betty's buzzing in her ear,
Lord, what a dress these parsons wear!
So odd a choice how could the make!
With'd him a colonel for her fake.
Then, on her fingers' ends, the counts,
Exact, to what his age amounts.
The Dean, the heard her uncle say,
Is fixtý, if he be a day ;
His ruddy cheeks are no disguise ;
You see the crows-feet round his eyes.

At one fhe rambles to the shops,
To cheapen tea, and talk with fops ;
Or calls a council of her maids,
And tradesmen, to compare brocades.
Her weighty morning-buliness o'er,
Sits down to dinner just at four;
Minds nothing that is done or fuid,
Her evening-work fo fill, her head.
The Dean, who us'd to dine at one,
Is maukish, and his ftomach gone ;
la thread-bare gown, would scarce a Inule hold,
Looks like the chaplain of his houstold ;
Bebolds her, from the chaplain's place,
lo French orocades, and Flanders lace :
He wonders what employs her braiu,
But never aks, or asks in vaia;
His mind is full of other cares,
And, in the sneaking parton's airs,
Computes, that halt a parish dues
Will hardly find bis wife in Thoes.

Canst thou imagine, dul Divine,
'Twill gain her love, to make her i ne?
Hath nie no other wants beride?
You raise debre, is well as pride,
Enticing coxcombs to adore,
And teach her to despise thee more.

If in her coach the 'l co, defcend
To place him at the hinder end,
Her hoop is hoist above his nose,
His odious gown would foil her clraths ;
And drops him at the churoli, to pray,
While the drives on to see the play.

He, like an orderly Divine,
Coines home a quarter after nine,
And meets her hafting to the ball :
Her chairmen push him from the wall.
He enters in, and walks up stairs,
And calls the samily to prayers i
Then goes alone to take his reft
In bed, where he can spare her best.
At five the footmen make a din,
Her Ladyship is just come in ;
The masquerade began at two,
She stole away with much ado ;
And Mall be chid this afternoon,
For leaving company to foon :
She 'll say, and the may truly say 't,
She can't abide to stay out late.

But now, though scarce a twelve month mar;
Poor Lady Jane has thrice miscarry'd :
The cause, alas, is quicl ly guest;
The town has whisper'd round the jeft.
Think on some remedy in tine,
You find his Reverence past his prime,
Already dwindled to a lath ;
No other way bút try the Bath.

For Venus, rising from the ocean, Infus'd a strong prolific potion, That mix'd with Achelous'spring, The herned Hood, as poets sing, Who, with an English beauty smitten, Ran under-ground from Greece to Britain ;

"he genial virtue with him brought,
And gave the Nymph a plenteous draught;
Then fied, and left his korn behind,
For husbands paft their youth to find :
The Nymph, who still with passion burn'd,
Was to a boiling fountain furn’d,
Where childless wives croud every morn,
To drink in Achelous' horn.
And here the father often gains
That title by another's pains.

Hither, though much against the graing
The Dean bas carry'd Lady Jane.
He, for a while, would not consept,
But vow'd bis money all was spent :
His money spent! a clownish reason!
And muft ny Lady flip her season?
The Doctor, with a double fee,
Was brib'd to make the De 1 agree.

Here all diversions of the place
Are proper in my Lady's case :
With which the patiently complics,
Merely because her friends advise;
His money and her time employs
In musick, raming-rooms, and toys;
Or in the Cross-bath seeks an heir,
Since others oft' have found one ther,
Where if the Dean by chance appears,
It Thames his assock and his years.
He keeps his distance in the gallery,
Till banith'd by some coxcomb's ra Hery ;
For 'twould his character expose,
To bathe among the belles and beaux.

So have I seen, within a pen,
Young ducklings fofter'd by a hen;


But, when let out, they run and muddle,
As instinct leads them, in a puddle :

The Dean, and his landlord a jolly comrade,
The fober hen, not born to swim,

Resolv'd for a icrtnight to swim in delight; With mournful note clucks round the brim. For why, they had both been brought up to the The Dean, with all his beft endeavour,

trade Getf not an beir, but gets a fever.

Of drinking all day, and of whoring all night, A victim to the last essays

His landlord was ready his Deanship to ape Of vigour in declining days,

In every debauch but committing a rape. He dies, and leaves his mourning mate

VI. (What could he lefs?) his whole estate.

This Proteftant zealot, this English divine, The widow goes through all her forms:

In church and in 1tate was of principles found, New lovers now will come in swarms,

Was truer than Steele to the Hanover line, Oh, may I see her foon dispensing

And griev'd that a Tory should live above Her favours to some broken ensign!

ground. Him let her marry, for his face,

Shall a subject to loyal be hangod by the nape, And only coat of tarvith'd lace ;

For no other crime but committing a rape ? To turn her naked out of doors,

VII. And spend her jointure on his whores ;

By old Popish canons, as wise men have penn'd But, for a parting present, leave her

sem, A rooted pox to lait for ever!

Each priest had a concubine, jure ecclefiæ; Who'd be Dean of Fernes without a commendam? And precedents we can produce, if it please

ye: AN EXCELLENT NEW BALLAD; Then why should the Dean, when whores are so


Be put to the peril and toil of a rape ?



If fortune Thould please but to take such a

crotchet 1,

(To thee I apply, great Smedley's successor) OUR UR brethren of England, who love us so dear,

To give thee lawn sleeves, a mitre, and rochel, And in all they do for us so kindly do mean,

Whom wouldīt thou resemble? I leave thee a (A blessing upon them!) have sent us this year,

guesser. For the good of our church, a true English | But I only behold thee in Athertonos* shape, Dean.

For sodomy hang'd; as thou for a rape, A holier priest ne'er was wrapt up in crape ;

IX. The worit you can say, he committed a rape, Ah! doft thou not envy the brave colonel Chartres,

Condemn'd for thy crime at threescore-andH.

ten? In his journey to Dublin, he lighted at Chester, And there he grew fond of another man's wite; To hang him, all England would lend him their

garters; Burft into ber chamber, and would have caress’d

Yet he lives, and is ready to ravith again, But the valued her honour mugh more than For thou haft not a groat to atone for a rape.

Then throtile thyself with an ell of Atrong tape, her life. She bustled and struggled, and made her escape

X, To a room full of guests, for fear of a rape.

The Dean he was yex'd that his whore: were fo

willing: LIT, The Dean he pursued, to recover his game;

He Longd for a girl that would struggle and And now to attack ber again be prepares':


He ravind her fairly, and fav'd a good filling ; But the company ttood in defence of the dame, They cudgeld, and cutt'd him, and kick'd him His trouble and forrows now come in a heap,

But here was to pay the devil and all. down stairs. His Deanship was now in a damnable scrape,

And hang'd he inuit be for committing a rape. And this was no time for committing a rape.

If maidens are ravilbid; it is their own choice : IV. To Dublin he comes, to the bagnio he goes,

Why are they lo wilful to firuggle with men? And orders the landlord to bring him a whore; If they would but lie quiet, and ititle their voice,

No Devil or Dean couid ravith them then : No scruple came on him, his gown to expose,

Nor would there be need of a strong hempen cape 'Twas what all his life he had pralis'd before. He had made himself drunk with the juice of the Ty'd round the Dean's neck for committing a

rape. grape, And got a good clap, but committed no rape.

* A bishop of Waterford, of infamous character. " * Sawbridge, Dean of Ferns. F.

her ;



Here gallipots and vials plac'd, Our Church and our State dcar England main. Some tillid with washes, some with paste; tains,

Some with pomatums, paints, and slopi, For which all true Protestant hearts should be And ointments good for icabby chops. glad :

Hard-by a filthy baron Nands, She sends us our Bishops, and Judges, and Fould with the scouring of her hauds : Deans;

The bason takes whatever comes, And better would give us, if beiter he had. Thc scrapirgs from her teeth and gums, But, lord! how the rabble will fiare, and will A nalty compound of all hues,

For here the spits, and here the fpues. gape, When the good English Dean is hang id up for a But, oh! it turn'd poor Strephon's boxels, rape!

When he be held and (ie!: the towels,
Begumm’d, bematter'd, and befim d,

With dirt, and weat, and ear-wax grim'd.

No objeet Strephon's eye escapes ;

Here petticoats in frowzy heaps;
THE THRESHER AND FAVOURITE POET. Nor be the bandkerchiefs forgot,

All varnish d o'er wib snuff and frot.

The ftockings why should I expose, THE thresrer Duck could o'cr the Queen pre- Stain'd with the meiliure of her toes; vail ;

Or greasy coiis, or pioners reeking, The proverb says, no fence against a fuil.

Which Calia lupt at leatt a week in? From threshing corn he turns to three his brains;

A pair of tweezers next he found, For which her Maicsty allows him grains. To pluck her brows in açcles round; Though'tis confeft, that those who ever saw Or hairs that sink the forebead low, His poems, think them all not worth a "r.79! Or on her chin like brittles grow. Thrice happy Duck, employ'd in threshing The virtues we must not let pass fiubble!

of Cælia's magnifying-gla's; Thy toil is lessen'd, and tly profits double. When frighted Strephon cast his eye on 'i,

It shew'd the visage of a giant;
A glass that can to fight fitclose

The smallest worm in Cælia's nose,

And faithfully direct her nail
TIVE hours (and who can do it less in?) To squeeze it out from head to tail ;

Tor, catch it nicely by the head,
The Goddess from her chamber issues,

It must come out, alive or dead. Array'd in lace, brocades, and tiffues.

Why, Strephon, will you tell the reft? Strephop who found the room was void,

And must you needs defcribe the cheft? And Betty otherwise employd,

That careless wench! no creature wara ber Stole in, and took a strict survey

To move it out from yonder corner! Of all the litter as it lay :

But leave it ftanding full in light, Whereof, to made the matter clear,

For you to exercise your spite ? An inventory follows here.

In vain the workman frew'd his wit, And, firit, a dirty fmock appcard,

With rings and hinges counterfeit, Beneath the arı-pits well befinear’d;

To make it seem in this disguile Streplior, the rogue, display'd it wide,

A cabinet to vulgar eyes, And turn 'dit round on every sic:

Which Strephon ventur'd to look in, In such a caie, few words are best,

Refolu'd to go through thick and thin. And Strephon bids us guess the rest;

He lists the lid: there needs no more, But swears, how damnably the men lie

He smelt it all the time before, In calling Cælia sweet and cleanly.

As, from within Fandora's box, Now listen, while he next produces

When Epimethicus op d the locks, The various combs for various vies;

A sudden universal crew Fillil-up with dirt so closely fist,

Of human evils upward fex, No bruín could force a way betwixt;

He still was comforted to find
A patte oi composition rare,

That hope at latt remain'd behind;
Sweet, dandrifi, powder, lead, and hair. So Strcphon lifting up the lid,
A forehead-cloth with oil upon ',

To view what in the chest was hid,
To smooth the wriokles on her front :

The vapours fiew from out the vent: Here alum-flower, to stop the steams

But Strephon, cautious, never meant Exuald from four unsavory streams ;

The totiom of the par. to grope, There night-gloves nade of Tripley's lido, And foul his hands in search of hete. Bequeath'd by Tripsey when she died;

Oh! nc'er may such a vile machine With punpy-water, beauty's help,

Be once in Cælia's chamber seen! Distillid from Tripley's darling whelp.


When my

old caffock (faid a Welsh divine) Is out at elbows; why fould I repine ?

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Oh! nay me better learn to keep
Those secrets of the hoary deep'*

As mutton-cutlets, † prime of meat,
Which though with art you talt and beat,
As laws of cookery require,
And roaft them at the clearest fire ;
If from aduwn the hopeful chops
The fat upon a cinder drops,
To stinking finoke it turns the flame,
Poisoning the fieth from whence it came,
And up exhales a greafy itench,
For which you curie the careless wench :
So things which must not be expreft,
When plumpe into the reeking cheit,
Send up an excremental smell
To taint the parts from whence they fell;
The petticoats and gown perfume,
And wart a ftink round every room,

Thus finishing his grand survey,
The lwain disguited flunk away ;
Repeating in his amorous fits,
" oh! Cælia, Cælia, Cælia th!"
But Vengeance, goddefs never f.eeping,
Soon punith'd Strephon for his peeping:
His foul imagination links
Each dame he sets with all her stinks ;
And, if unsavory odours fly,
Conceives a lady standing by.
All women his description Ets,
And both ideas jump like wits ;
By vicious fancy coupled fatt,
And still appearing in contrast.

I pity wretched Strephon, blind
To all the charms of woman-kind.
Should I the Queen of Love refuse,
Because the role from stinking ooze?
To him that looks behind the scene,
Statira's but some pocky quean.

When Cælia all her glory shows, If Strephon would but stop his nose, Who now so impiously blasphemes Her ointments, daubs, and paints, and creams, Her washes, nops, and very clout, With which he makes so foul a rout; He foon would learn to think like me, And bless his ravith'd eyes to see Such order from confufon (prung, Such gaudy twips rais?d from dung.

ON MR. PULTENEY'S BEING PUT OUT OF THE COUNCIL, 1731. Sir Robert, weary'd by Will Pulteney's teasWho interrupted him in all his leasings, Resolv'd that Will and he thould meet no more : Full in his face Bob thuts the council-cloor ; Nor lets him fit as juftice on the bench, To punish thieves, or lath a suburb-wench. Yet ftill St. Stephen's chapel open

lies For Will to enter.-W bat thall I advise? Ev'n quit the House, for thou too long has fat

in 'l; Produce at laft thy doripant ducal patent; There, near thy maiter's throne in thelter plac'd, Let Will unheard by thee his thunder waste. Yet st:ll I fear your work is done but half; For, while he keeps his pen, you are not safe.

Hear an old fable, ard a dull one too; It bears a moral, when apply'd to you,

A bare had long escap'd pursuing hounds, By often shifting into diftant grounds; Till, finding all his artifices vain, To save his life he leap'd into the main. But there, alas ! he could no safety find, A pack of dog-fish had him in the wind. He scours away; and, to avoid the foe, Descends for Melter to the shades below: There Cerberus lay watching in his den (He had not seen a hare the lord knows when) Out bounc'd the mastiff of the triple head; Away the hare with double swiftness filed; Huntdd from earth, and fea, and hell, he flios (Fear lent him wings) for safety to the ikies. How was the fearful animal diftreft! Behold a foc more fierce than all the rest! Sirius, the swiftest of the heavenly pack, Fail'd but an inch to seize him by the back He fed to earth, but first it cost him dear : He left his scut behind, and hilf an ear. Thus was the hare pursued, though free from

guilt ; Thus, Bob, shalt thou be maul'd, ty where

thou wilt.
Then, honeft Robin, of thy corpie beware ;
Thou art not half so nimble as a hare :
Too ponderous is thy bulk to mount the sky ;
Nor can you go to hell, before you die.
So keen thy hurters, and thy scent so strong,


F neither brass nor marble can withstand

If mountains fiuk to vales, if cities die,
And lefening rivers mourn their fountains dry:

* Milton. f Arima virorun.

* This hunting ended in the promotion both of Will and Bob. Bob was no longer first minister, but Earl of Orford; ard Will was no longer his opponent, but Earl of Bath, H.


His ancient pipe, in fable dy'd,
Ε Ρ Ι Τ Α Ρ Η And half upimok’d, lay by his [de.

Him thus accoutred Peter found,

With eyes in smoke and weeping drownd; FREDERICK DUKE OF SCHOMBERG*. The leavings of his lat night's pot

On embers plac'd, to drink it hot.
Hiç infra situm eft corpus

Why, Casly, thou wilt doze thy pate; FREDERICI DUCIS DE SCHOMBERG,

What makes thee lie a-bed so late?

The finch, the linnet, and the thrush, ad BUDINDAM occifi, A, D, 1690,

Their mattins chant in every buth : DECANUS et CAPITULUM maximopere etiam And I have heard thee oft salute atque etiam petierunt,

Aurora with thy early fute,

Heaven send thou haft not got the hyrs! Ut #REDES DUCIS monumentum

How ! not a word come from thy lips? In memoriam PARENTIS erigendum curarent : Then gave him some familiar thumps;

A college-joke, to cure the dumps. Sed postquain per epistolas, per amicos,

The Twain at laft, with grief oppreit, diu ac fæpè orando nil profecère; Cry'd, Cælia! thrice, and figh'd the reit. Hunc demuin lapidem ipsi statụerunt,

Dear Cassy, though to ask I dread,

Yet ask I muft. 18 Calia dead? + Saltem ut fcias, hofpes,

How happy I, were that the worit ! Ubinam terrarum SCONBERGENSES cinercs But I was fated to be curft. delitefcunt,

Come, tell us, has the play'd the wbore?

Oh, Peter, would it were no more! « Plus potuit fama virtutis apud alienos, Why, plague confound her fandy locks! " Quam sanguinis proximitas apud fuos." Say, has the small or greater pox A, D. 1731.

Sunk down her nose, or seam'd her face?

Be eafy, 'tis a common case.
CASSINUS AND PETER. Oh, Peter! beauty's but a varnish,

Which time and accidents will tarnila:

But Cælia has contriv'd to blaft TWO college fophs of Cambridge growth,

Those beauties that might ever last.

Nor can imagination guess, Conferring, as they usd to meet,

Nor eloquence divine express, On love, and books, in rapture sweet

How that ungrateful charining maid (Muse, find me names to fit my metre,

My pureit passion has betray d, (affinus this, and other Peter);

Conceive the most enpenom'd dart Friend Peter to Caliinus goes,

To pierce an injur'd lover's heart. To chat a while, and warm his nose ;

Why, hang her; though she seems to cop, But such a fight was never seen,

I know the loves the barber's boy. The lad lay lwallow'd up in spleen.

Friend Peter, this I could excuse;

For every nymph has leave to choose ; He seem'd as just crept out of bed;

Nor have I reason to complain,
One greasy licking round his head,

She loves a more deserving (wain,
The other be sat down to dearn
With threads of different-colourd yarn;

But, oh! liow ill haft thou divin'd

A crime that shocks all human-kind;
His breeches torn exposing wide
A ragged Mirt and tawny bide.

A deed unknown to female race,
Scorch'd were bis hins, his legs were barc,

At which the fun should hide his face !

Advice in vain you would applyBut well en brown'd witli dirt and hair.

Then leave me to despair and die. A rug was o'er his shoulders thrown

Ye kind Arcadians, on my urn (A rug; for night-gown he had none),

These elegies and fonnets burn;
His jordan Itond in manner ftting
Between his legs to {pew or fpit in ;

And on the marble grave these rhymes,
A monument to after-times;

“ Here Caffy lies, by Calia siain, * The duke was unhappily killed, in crossing the

« And dyirg never told his pain.” river Boyre, July 1, 1690; and was buried in The loud Cerberian triple bark.

Vain empty world, farewell. But hark; St. Patrick's Cathedral; where the dean and chapter And there behold Alecto ftand, erected a small monument to his hencur, at their own

A whip of scorpions in her hand. experće. * The words that D. swift for concluded the Beckoning to waft me o'er the ferry.

Lo, Charon from his leaky wherry efiraph with, were Saltem ut fciat viator iedig- I come, 'come, Medusa! fee, nabundus, quali in cellula tanti dæcloris cineres Her ferpents buss direct at me, delitefcunt."

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