The neighbourhood was rais'd, and call'd,
The maids mifcarry'd, children bawl'd,
The cur, whom oft his bounty fed,
With many a scrap, and bit of bread;
Now own'd him not, but in the throng
Growl'd at him as he sneak'd along.
To bed he went, 'tis true, but not
Or clos'd his eyes, or flept one jot;
Not Nifus was in fuch defpair,
Spoil'd of his kingdom and his hair :
Not ev'n Belinda made fuch moan,
When her dear favourite lock was gone.
He fum'd, he rav'd, he curs'd amain,
All his paft life run o'er again;
Damn'd every female bite to Tyburn,
From mother Eve, to mother Wyburn,
Each youthful vanity abjur'd,

Whores, box and dice, and claps ill-cur'd:
And, having loft by female art

This darling idol of his heart,

Those precious locks, that might out-vie
The trim-curl'd God who lights the sky;
Refolv'd to grow devout and wife,
Or what's almoft the fame-precise ;
Canted, and whin'd, and talk'd most oddly,
Was very flovenly and godly

(For nothing makes devotion keen,
Like difappointment and chagrin):
In fine, he fet his houfe in order,
And piously put on a border.

MORA L.

To you, gay fparks, who waste your youthful prime,
Old Æfop fends this monitory rhyme;

Leave, leave, for fhame your trulls at Sh-er hall,
And marry in good time, or not at all.

Of all the monsters Smithfield e'er could fhow,
There's none fo hideous as a batter'd beau.
Truft not the noon of life, but take the morn;
Will Honeycomb is every female's fcorn.

Let him be rich, high-born, book-learn'd, and wife,
Believe me, friends, in every woman's eyes,
'Tis back, and brawn, and finew, wins the prize.

FA BL E XIV.

THE FORTUNE-HUNTER.

"Fortuna fævo læta negotio, &

"Ludum infolentem ludere pertinax
"Tranfmutat incertos honores."

CA N то

HOR.

I.

OME authors, more abstruse than wife,

SOME

Friendship confine to ftricter ties,

Require exact conformity,

In perfon, age, and quality;
Their humours, principles, and wit,
Muft, like exchequer tallies, hit.

Others, lefs fcrupulous, opine

That hands and hearts in love may join,

Though

Though different inclinations fway,
For Nature's more in fault than they.
Whoe'er would fift this point more fully,
May read St. Evremond and Tully;
With me the doctrine shall prevail
That's à propos to form my tale.
Two brethren (whether twins or no
Imports not very much to know)
Together bred; as fam'd their love
As Leda's brats begot by Jove:
As various too their tempers were;
That brisk, and frolick, debonair;
This more confiderate and severe.
While Bob, with diligence would pore
And con by heart his battle-door,

Frank play'd at romps with John the groom,
Or fwitch'd his hobby round the room.
The striplings now too bulky grown,
To make dirt-pies, and lounge at home,
With aching hearts to school are sent,
Their humours ftill of various bent:
The filent, ferious, folid boy,
Came on apace, was daddy's joy,
Construed, and pars'd, and faid his part,
And got Quæ-genus all by heart.
While Franky, that unlucky rogue,
Fell in with every whim in vogue,
Valued not Lilly of a straw,
A rook at chuck, a dab at taw.

}

His bum was often brush'd, you'll fay,
'Tis true, now twice, then thrice a day:
So leeches at the breech are fed,
To cure vertigos in the head,

But, by your leave, good doctor Freind,
Let me this maxim recommend;
"A genius can't be forc'd;" nor can
You make an ape an alderman :
The patch-work doublet well may fuit,
But how would furs become the brute?
In short, the cafe is very plain,
When maggots once are in the brain,
Whole loads of birch are spent in vain.
Now to pursue this hopeful pair
To Oxford, and the Lord knows where,
Would take more ink than I can spare,
Nor fhall I here minutely score

The volumes Bob turn'd o'er and o'er,
The laundreffes turn'd up by Frank,
With many a strange diverting prank;
"Twould jade my Mufe, though better fed,
And kept in body-cloaths and bread.
When briftles on each chin began
To fprout, the promise of a man,
The good old gentleman expir'd,
And decently to Heaven retir'd:
The brethren, at their country feat,
Enjoy'd a pleasant, fnug retreat;
Their cellars and their barns well ftor'd
And plenty fmoaking on their board.

Ale and tobacco for the vicar,

For gentry fometimes better liquor.
Judicious Bob had read all o'er
Each weighty stay'd philofopher,
And therefore rightly understood
The real from th' apparent good;
Substantial blifs, intrinfic joys,
From bustle, vanity, and noise;
Could his own happiness create,
And bring his mind to his eftate:
Liv'd in the same calm, eafy round,
His judgement clear, his body found;
Good humour, probity, and sense,
Repaid with peace and indolence:
While rakish Frank, whose active foul
No bounds, no principle control,
Flies o'er the world where pleafure calls,
To races, mafquerades, and balls;
At random roves, now here, now there,
Drinks with the gay, and toasts the fair.
As when the full-fed resty steed

Breaks from his groom, he flies with speed;
His high-arch'd neck he proudly rears,
Upon his back his tail he bears,
His main upon his fhoulders curls,
O'er every precipice he whirls,
He plunges in the cooling tides,
He laves his shining pamper'd fides,
He fnuffs the females on the plain,
And to his joy he fprings amain,

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