II.

The butterfly courtier, that pageant of state, That mouse-trap of honour, and may-game of fate; For all his ambition, his freaks, and his tricks, He must die like a bumpkin, and fall into Styx: His plot against death's but a flender pretence, Who'd take his place from him a hundred years hence!

III.

The beautiful bride, who with garlands is crown'd, And kills with each glance as she treads on the ground; Her glittering dress does cast such a splendor, As if none were fit but the stars to attend her; Altho' fhe is pleasant, and sweet to the sense, She'll be damnable mouldy a hundred years hence.

IV.

The right-hearted foldier, who's a stranger to fear, Calls up all his fpirits when danger is near; He labours and fights, great honour to gain, And hardily thinks it will ever remain ; But virtue and courage prove in vain a pretence, To flourish his standard a hundred years hence.

V.

The merchant who ventures his all on the main, Not doubting to grasp what the Indies contain, He buzzes and bustles like a bee in the spring, Yet knows not what harvest the autumn will bring: Tho' fortune's great queen should load him with pence, He'll ne'er reach the market a hundred years hence.

VI.

The rich bawling lawyer, who, by fools' wrangling ftrife,

Can spin out a fuit to the end of a life;

A fuit which the client does wear out in flavery,

Whilft the pleader makes conscience a cloak for his

knavery;

Tho' he boasts of his cunning, and brags of his fenfe, He'll be non eft inventus a hundred years hence.

VII.

The plush-coated quack, who, his fees to enlarge, Kills people by licence, and at their own charge; He builds up fair structures with ill-gotten wealth, By the dregs of a piss-pot, and the ruins of health : By the treasures of health he pretends to dispense, He'll be turn'd into mummy a hundred years hence.

VIII.

The meagre-chopp'd ufurer, who in hundreds gets twenty,

But starves in his wealth, and pines in his plenty;
Lays up for a season he never will see,

The year of one thousand eight hundred and three :
He must change all his houses, his lands, and his

rents,

For a worm-eaten coffin a hundred years hence.

IX.

The learned divine, with all his pretenfions To knowledge fuperior, and heavenly manfions; Who lives by the tithe of other folks labour, Yet expects that his blessing be receiv'd as a favour, Tho' he talks of the spirit, and bewilders our fense, Knows not what will come of him a hundred years hence.

X.

The poet himself, who so loftily fings,

And scorns any fubject but heroes or kings,

Muft to the capricio of fortune submit ;

Which will make a fool of him in spite of his wit :

Thus health, wealth, and beauty, wit, learning, and

fense,

Muft all come to nothing a hundred years hence.

XI.

Why should we turmoil then in cares and in fears, By converting our joys into fighs and to tears? Since pleasures abound, let us ever be tafting, And to drive away forrow while vigour is lafting, We'll kiss the brisk damsels, that we may from thence Have brats to succeed us a hundred years hence.

XII.

The true-hearted mason, who acts on the fquare, And lives within compass by rules that are fair; Whilst honour and conscience approve all his deeds, As virtue and prudence directs he proceeds, With friendship and love, difcretion, and sense, Leaves a pattern for brothers a hundred years hence.

JOHNY FAA, the Gypfie Laddie.

I.

THE gypfies came to our good lord's gate,
And wow but they fang fweetly;

They fang fae fweet, and fae very complete,
That down came the fair lady.

II.

And she came tripping down the stair,
And a' her maids before her;

As soon as they saw her well-far'd face,
They cooft the glamer o'er her.

III.

Gae tak frae me this gay mantile,

And bring to me a plaidie,

For if kith and kin, and a' had fworn,
I'll follow the gypsie laddie.

IV.

Veftreen I lay in a well-made bed,
And my good lord beside me :
This night I'll lie in a tenant's barn,
Whatever shall betide me.

V.

Come to your bed, fays Johny Faa,
O come to your bed, my deary;

For I vow and I fwear, by the hilt of my fword,
That your lord fhall nae mair come near ye.

VI.

I'll go to bed to my Johny Faa,

I'll go to bed to my deary;

For I vow and fwear by what past yeftreen, That my lord shall nae mair come near me.

VII.

I'll make a hap to my Johny Faa,

And I'll make a hap to my deary,

And he's get a' the coat gaes round,
And my lord fhall nae mair come near me.

VIII.

And when our lord came hame at een,
And fpeir'd for his fair lady,

The tane fhe cry'd, and the other reply'd,
She's away with the gypfie laddie.

IX.

Gae faddle to me the black black steed,
Gae faddle and make him ready;
Before that I either eat or fleep,
I'll gae feek my fair lady.

X.

And we were fifteen well-made men,
Altho' we were na bonny;

And we were a' put down for ane,
A fair young wanton lady.

OLD

Old CHIRON.

I.

LD Chiron thus preach'd to his pupil Achilles, I'll tell thee, young gentleman, what the fates' will is :

You, my boy, must go

(The gods will have it fo)

To the fiege of Troy;

Thence never to return to Greece again,
But before those walls to be slain.

II.

Let not your noble courage be cast down,
But all the while you ly before the town,

Drink and drive care away, drink and be merry :
You'll ne'er go the fooner to the Stygian ferry.

Bottle and Friend.

I.

SUM up all the delights

This world does produce,

The darling allurements
Now chiefly in use,