Oh, may I fee her foon difpenfing
Her favours to fome broken enfign I
Him let her marry, for his face,

And only coat of tarnish'd lace;

To turn her naked out of doors,
And fpend her jointure on his whores;
But, for a parting prefent, leave her
A rooted pox to laft for ever!

UR brethren of England, who love us fo dear,

OUR

And in all they do for us fo kindly do mean, (A bleffing upon them!) have fent us this year For the good of our church, a true English Dean. A holier priest ne'er was wrapt up in crape, The worst you can fay, he committed a rape.

II.

In his journey to Dublin, he lighted at Chester,

And there he grew fond of another man's wife; Burst into her chamber, and would have caress'd her; But the valued her honour much more than her life. She buftled and struggled, and made her escape

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

* Sawbridge, Dean of Fernes, F.

III. The

III.

The Dean he purfued, to recover his game;

And now to attack her again he prepares :
But the company ftood in defence of the dame,
They cudgel'd, and cuft him, and kick'd him down
ftairs.

His Deanship was now in a damnable scrape,
And this was no time for committing a rape.

IV.

To Dublin he comes, to the bagnio he goes,
And orders the landlord to bring him a whore;
No fcruple came on him his gown to expose,

'Twas what all his life he had practis'd before. He had made himself drunk with the juice of the grape, And got a good clap, but committed no rape.

V.

The Dean, and his landlord a jolly comrade,
Refolv'd for a fortnight to fwim in delight;
For why, they had both been brought up to the trade
Of drinking all day, and of whoring all night.
His landlord was ready his Deanfhip to ape
In every debauch but committing a rape.

VI.

This Protestant zealot, this English divine,

In church and in state was of principles found; Was truer than Steele to the Hanover line,

And griev❜d that a Tory should live above ground. Shall a fubject fo loyal be hang'd by the nape, For no other crime but committing a rape ?

P 4

VIL. By

VII.

By old Popish canons, as wife men have penn'd 'em,
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
Then why should the Dean, when whores are fo cheap,
Be put to the peril and toil of a rape ?

VIII.

If fortune fhould pleafe but to take fuch a crotchet
(To thee I apply, great Smedley's fucceffor)
To give thee lawn fleeves, a mitre, and rochet,

Whom wouldst thou refemble? I leave thee a gueffer. But I only behold thee in Atherton's fhape,

For fodomy hang'd; as thou for a rape.

IX.

Ah! doft thou not envy the brave colonel Chartres,
Condemn'd for thy crime at threefcore-and-ten ?
To hang him, all England would lend him their garters,
Yet he lives, and is ready to ravifh again.
Then throttle thyfelf with an ell of frong tape,
For thou haft not a groat to atone for a rape.

X.

The Dean he was vex'd that his whores were fo willing
He long'd for a girl that would struggle and fquall;
He rayish'd her fairly, and fav'd a good fhilling;
But here was to pay the devil and all.
His trouble and forrows now come in a heap,
And bang'd he must be for committing a rape.

A bishop of Waterford, of infamous character. N.
XI. If

Why are they do wirhul a fruggle with men v If they would bur e quer and life heir wom

No Devil mer Dean could south hem ben.

Nor would there be need of a hung ennen syne
Ty'd round the Dean's neck for sommitting a tax
X***

Our Church and on Srate dear England nginine,
For which all tre Portant hearts bould be due.
She fends us our Bionx and Judges and Searc

And better would give as ferter he 20t

But, Ford how the rabble will fare and will serv When the good Baglich Dean is hang'd ay for a tape P

ON STEPHEN DUCK,

THE THRESHER AND FAVOURITE POVET.

A QUIBBLING EPIGRAM. 130

THE

HIE throther Duck could o'er the Queen prevaily The proverb fays, no fence against a fail. From threbing corn he turns to threb his brains & For which her Majefty allows him grains. Though 'tis confeft, that thofe, who ever faw His poems, think them all not worth a fraw! Thrice happy Duck, employ'd in threshing Aubble!

Thy toil is leflen'd, and thy profits double.

THE

THE LADY'S DRESSING-ROOM. 1730.

FIVE hours (and who can do it lefs in ?)
By haughty Calia fpent in drefling i
The Goddess from her chamber iffues,
Array'd in lace, brocades, and tiflues.
Strephon, who found the room was void,
And Betty otherwife employ'd,
Stole in, and took a ftrict furvey
Of all the litter as it lay i

Whereof, to make the matter clear,
An inventory follows here.

And, firft, a dirty fmock appear'd,
Beneath the arm-pits well befmear'd ;
Strephon, the rogue, difplay'd it wide,
And turn'd it round on every fide
In fuch a cafe, few words are beft,
And Strephon bids us guefs the reft;
But fwears, how damnably the men lie
In calling Celia fweet and cleanly.

Now liften, while he next produces
The various combs for various ufes;
Fill'd-up with dirt fo clofely fixt,
No brush could force a way betwixt;
A pafle of compofition tare,

Sweat, dandriff, powder, lead, and hair.
A forehead-cloth with oil upon 't,

To fmooth the wrinkles on her front r