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Where, in eighteen-penny gall’ry,
Irish nymphs learn Irish raill'ry :
But thy merit is thy failing,
And thy raillery is railing.

30

Thus with talents well endu'd
To be fcurrilous and rude ;
When you pertly raise your snout,
Fleer, and gibe, and laugh, and flout:

Hibernian affes,
For sheer wit and humour paffes.
Thus indulgent Chloe bit,
Swears you have a world of wit.

This among

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DEATH and DAPHNE *.

To an agreeable young lady, but extremely

lean.

Written in the year 1730.

5

DEath went upon a folemn day

At Pluto's hall his court to pay:
The phantom, having humbly kist
His grisly monarch's footy fift,
Presented him the weekly bills
Of doctors, fevers, plagues, and pills.
Pluto observing since the peace,
The burial article decrease:
And vex'd to see affairs miscarry,
Declar'd in council, Death must marry :
Vow'd he no longer could support
Old batchelors about his court:

* See an anecdote relating to this lady, vol. 7. p. 112.

10

The

The int'rest of his realm had need;
That death should get a num'rous breed;
Young deathlings, who, by practice made
Proficient in their father's trade,
With colonies might stock around
His large dominions under ground.

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A consult of coquets below
Was call’d to rig him out a beau :
From her own head Megara takes
A periwig of twisted snakes;
Which in the nicest fashion curl'd,
(Like toupees * of this upper world),
With flow'r of sulphur powder'd well,
That graceful on his shoulders fell,
An adder of the fable kind,
In line direct, hung down behind.
The owl, the raven, and the bat,
Clubb’d for a feather to his hat;
His coat, an us'rer's velvet pall,
Bequeath'd to Pluto, corpfe and all,
But loath his person to expose
Bare, like a carcase pick'd by crows.
A lawyer o'er his hands and face
Stuck artfully a parchment case.
No new-flux'd rake shew'd fairer skin :
Nor Phillis after lying in.
With snuff was fill'd his ebon box,
Of Thin-bones l'otted by the pox.
Nine fpirits of blafpheming fops
With aconite anoint his chops;
And give him words of dreadful sounds,
G-d d.-n his blood, and b----d and w...ds.

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Thus furnish'd out, he sent his train To take a house in Warwick-lane:

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*. The periwigs now in fashion are so called,

02

'The

The faculty, his humble friends,
A complimental message sends :
Their president in fcarlet gown
Harangu'd, and welcom'd him to town,

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60

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But death had bus’nefs to dispatch;
His mind was running on his match.
And, hearing much of Daphne's fame,
His Majesty of terrors came,
Fine as a col'nel of the guards,
To visit where the sat at cards.
She, as he came into the room,
Thought him Adonis in his bloom.
And now her heart with pleasure jumps;
She scarce remembers what is trumps ;
For such a shape of skin and bone
Was never

seen
except

her own :
Charm'd with his eyes, and chin, and fnout,
Her pocket-glass drew flily out;
And grew enamour'd with her phiz,
As just the counterpart of his.
She darted many a private glance,
And freely made the first advance ;
Was of her beauty grown so vain,
She doubted not to win the swain :
Nothing, she thought, could sooner gain him,
Than with her wit to entertain him.
She ask'd about her friends below;
This meagre fop, that batter'd beau :
Whether some late departed toasts
Had got gallants among the ghosts?
If Chloe were a sharper still
As great as ever at quadrille ?
(The ladies there must needs be rooks,
For cards, we know, are Pluto's books);
If Florimel had found her love,
For whom she hang’d herself above ?
How oft a week was kept a ball
By Proferpine at Pluto's hall ?

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55

80

She

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She fancy'd those Elysian shades
The sweetest place for masquerades?
How pleasant ch the banks of Styx,
To troll it in a coach and fix !

What pride a female heart inflames !
How endless are ambitious aims !
Cease, haughty nymph; the fates decree
Death must not be a spouse for thee :
For when, by chance, the meagre fhade
Upon thy hand his finger laid,
Thy hand as dry and cold as lead,
Hic matrimonial spirit fled ;
He felt about his heart a damp,
That quite extinguish'd Cupid's lamp:
Away the frighted spectre fcuds,
And leaves my Lady in the suds.

95

On STEPHEN DUCK, the THRESHERG

and favourite Poet.

A QUIBBLING EPIGRAM.

Written in the year 1730

THE
HE thresher Duck could o'er the Queen pre-

vail,
The proverb says, “ No fence against a flail.”
From threshing corn he turns to thresh his brains ;
For which her Majesty allows him grains.
Though 'tis confess'd, that those who ever saw 5
His poems, think them all not worth a straw. !

03

Thrice

Thrice happy Duck, employed in threshing stubble! Thy toil is leflen'd, and thy profits double.

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A PANEGYRIC on the Dean, in the

person of a Lady in the north *.

Written in the year 1730.

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10

REfolvd

my gratitude to show,
Thrice Rev'rend Dean, for all I'ow,
Too long I have my thanks delay'd;
Your favours left too long unpaid ;
But now, in all our sex's name,
My artless muse shall fing your fame.

Indulgent you to female kind,
To all the weaker sides are blind;
Nine more such champions as the Dean
Would foon restore our ancient reign.
How well to win the ladies hearts,
You celebrate their wit and parts !
How have I felt my spirit rais’d,
By you so oft, so highly prais'd !
Transform'd, by your convincing tongue,
To witty, beautiful and young.
I hope to quit that aukward shame
Affected by each vulgar dame,
To modesty a weak pretence ;
And soon grow pert on men of fense :
To fhew my face with fcornful air,
Let others match it, if they dare,

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2a

* The Lady of Sir Arthur Acheron.

Impatient

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