IV.

Hard by a fty, beneath a roof of thatch, Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days Baskets of fish at Billing fgate did watch, Cod, whiting, oyfter, mackrel, fprat, or plaice:

There learn'd she speech from tongues that

never cease.

Slander befide her, like a magpye chatters, With Envy(fpitting cat) dread foe to peace; Like a curs'd cur, Malice before her clatters, And, vexing ev'ry wight, tears cloaths and and all to tatters.

V.

Her dugs were mark'd byev'rycollier's hand, Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the

ftall:

She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne

band;

And bitch and rogue her anfwer was to all; Nay, e'en the parts of fhame by name wou'd call.

Whene'er fhe paffed by a lane or nook, the man who turn'd him to

Wou'd greet the wall,

And by his hand obfcene the porter took, Norever didafkance like modeft virgin look.

VOL. VI.

F

VI. Such

VI. '

Such place hath Deptford, navy-building

town;

Woolwich and Wapping, fmelling ftrong of pitch:

Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown; And Twick'nam fuch, which fairer scenes enrich,

Grots, ftatues, urns, and Jo--n's dog and bitch:

Ne village is without, on either fide,
All up the filver Thames, or all a-down ;
Ne Richmond's felf, from whose tall front
are ey'd

Vales fpires, meandring ftreams, and
Windfor's tow'ry pride.

* THE CAPON'S TALE,

To a Lady who father'd her Lampoons upon
Acquaintance.

I'

her

N Yorkshire dwelt a fober yeoman,
Whofe wife, a clean, pains-taking wo-

man,

Fed num'rous poultry in her pens,
And faw her cocks well ferve her hens.

A hen

A hen she had, whofe tuneful clocks Drew after her a train of cocks; With eyes so piercing, yet so pleasant, You wou'd have fworn this hen a pheafant. All the plum'd beau-monde round her ga

thers;

Lord! what a bruftling up of feathers! Morning from noon there was no knowing, There was such flutt'ring, chuckling, crow

ing:

Each forward bird must thrust his head in,
And not a cock but wou'd be treading.
Yet tender was this hen fo fair,
And hatch'dmore chicksthan fhe could rear.
Our prudent dame bethought her then
Of some dry-nurse to fave her hen:
She made a capon drunk; in fine
He eats the fopps, the fipp'd the wine;
His rump well pluck'd with nettles ftings,
And claps the brood beneath his wings.

The feather'd dupe awakes content, O'erjoy'd to see what God had fent; Thinks he's the hen, clocks, keeps a pother, A foolish fofter-father-mother.

Such, lady Mary, are your tricks; But fince you hatch, pray own your chicks; You fhou'd be better fkill'd in nocks, Nor like your capons ferve your cocks.

F 2

VERSES

Written in a Lady's Ivory Table-Book.

PERUSE my leaves through ev'ry part,
Andthink thou fee'ft myowner's heart,
Scrawl'd o'er with trifles thus, and quite
As hard, as fenfelefs, and as light;
Expos'd to ev'ry coxcomb's eyes,
But hid with caution from the wife.
Here you may read, dear charming faint;
Beneath, a new receipt for paint:
Here in beau-fpelling, true tel death;
There in her own, far an el breth:
Here, lovely nymph, pronounce my doom:
There, a fafe way to use perfume :
Here a page fill'd with billet-doux ;
On t'other fide, laid out for fhoes;
Madam, I die without your grace;
Item, for half a yard of lace.
Who that had wit wou'd place it here
For ev'ry peeping fop to jeer?
In pow'r of fpittle, and a clout,
Whene'er he please, to blot it out;
And then, to heighten the difgrace,
Clap his own nonsense in the place.
Whoe'er expects to hold his part
In fuch a book, and such a heart,

If

VERSES ON A LADY'S TABLE-BOOK. 69 If he be wealthy and a fool,

Is in all points the fittest tool;
Of whom it may be justly faid,
He's a gold pencil tipp'd with lead.

MRS. HARRIS's PETITION.

Written in the Year 1701.

To their Excellencies the Lords Juftices of Ireland'.

The humble petition of Frances Harris,
Who must farve, and die a maid, if it miscarries,

Humbly fheweth,

That I went to warm myself in lady

b

Betty's chamber, because I was cold, And I had in a purse seven pounds, four fhillings, and fix pence, befides farthings, in money and gold:

So, because I had been buying things for my lady laft night,

I was refolv'd to tell my money, to see if it was right.

2

Earl of Berkeley, and earl of Galway.

Lady Betty Berkeley.

F 3

Now