He now refolves, in heat of blood,

To try how firm her virtue ftood.
He knew that wine (to love best aid)
Has oft made bold the fhame-fac'd maid,
Taught her to romp, and take more freedoms,
Than nymphs train'd up at Smith's or Needham's.
A mighty bottle ftrait he chose,

Such as might give two Friars their dofe :
Nanette he call'd: the cellar door

She straight unlocks, defcends before,
He follow'd clofe. But when he fpies
His fav'rite cafk; with lifted eyes
And lifted hands aloud he cries,
Heigh day! my darling wine aftoop!
It muft, alas! have sprung a hoop ;
That there's a leak is past all doubt,
(Reply'd the maid)I'll find it out.
She fets the candle down in hafte,
Tucks her white apron round her wafte,
The hogfhead's mouldy fide afcends,
She ftraddles wide, and downward bends;
So low fhe ftoops to feek the flaw,
Her coats rofe up, her mafter faw-
I fee-he cries--(then clafpt her faft)
The leak through which my wine has past.

Then all in haste the maid descended,

And in a trice the leak was mended.
He found in Nanette all he wanted,
So Dennis' brows remain'd unplanted.

Ere fince this time all lufty Friars
(Warm'd with predominant defires,
Whene'er the flesh with fpirit quarrels)
Look on the fex as leaky barrels.

Beware

Beware of thefe, ye jealous fpouses,
From fuch like coopers guard your houses;
For if they find not work at home,
For jobs through all the town they roam.

THE

THE

EQUIVOCATION.

A

A TAL E.

N Abbot rich (whofe tafte was good
Alike in fcience and in food)

His Bishop had refolv'd to treat ;

The Bishop came, the Bishop eat;
"Twas filence, 'till their stomachs fail'd;
And now at Hereticks they rail'd;
What Herefy (the Prelate faid)

Is in that Church where Priefts may wed!
Do not we take the Church for life?
But thofe divorce her for a wife,
Like laymen keep her in their houses,
And own the children of their spouses.
Vile practices! the Abbot cry'd,
For pious ufe we're set aside!

Shall we take wives? marriage at best
Is but carnality profest.

Now as the Bishop took his glass,

He spy'd our Abbot's buxom lafs

Who crofs'd the room, he mark'd her eye
That glow'd with love; his pulfe beat high
Fye, father, fye, (the Prelate cries)
A maid so young! for fhame, be wise.
Thefe indifcretions lend a handle
To lewd lay tongues, to give us scandal ;

For

For your vows fake, this rule I give t'ye,
Let all your maids be turn'd of fifty.

The Priest reply'd, I have not fwerv'd,
But your chafte precept well obferv'd,
That lass full twenty-five has told,
I've yet another who's as old;

Into one fum their ages

caft;

So both my maids have fifty paft.

The Prelate fmil'd, but durft not blame; For why? his Lordship did the same.

Let those who reprimand their brothers, First mend the faults they find in others.

ATRUE

A TRUE STORY

OF AN

APPARITION.

Cepticks (whofe ftrength of argument makes out That wildom's deep enquiries end in doubt) Hold this affertion pofitive and clear,

That sprites are pure delufions rais'd by fear.
Not that fam'd ghost, which in presaging found
Call'd Brutus to Philippi's fatal ground;
Nor can Tiberius Gracchus' goary shade
Thefe ever-doubting difputants perfuade,
Straight they with fmiles reply; thofe tales of old
By vifionary Priests were made and told :
Oh might fome ghoft at dead of night appear,
And make you own conviction by your fear!
I know your fneers my eafy faith accuse,
Which with fuch idle legends fcares the Muse:
But think not that I tell thofe vulgar sprights,
Which frighted boys relate on winter nights;
How cleanly milk-maids meet the fairy train,
How headless horfes drag the clinking chain,
Night-roaming ghofts, by faucer eye-balls known,
The common spectres of each country town.
No, I fuch fables can like you despise,
And laugh to hear these nurse-invented lies.
Yet has not oft the fraudful guardian's fright
Compell'd him to restore an orphan's right ?

And