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In Closet dark your Cedar-Box be hid ;
Not in a Parlour shewn without a Lid.
Some Aétions must be always out of Sight,
Yet elegantly told, may give Delight.
Nurse must not hold the Child, and cry, Eee, Hee,
When Madam and herFriends areo'er their Tea.
Atreus, with Ladies by, mistakes his Wit,
In new-born T-ds to run a red-hot Spit.
Mifs Progne must not cry, a Bird, a Bird!
Before good Company, and shew a
Cadmus, who voids out Worms of monstrous

Size,
In mere good Manners should deceive our

Eyes ;
Must do his dirty Work behind the Scene,
And e'er he shews the Vermin, wipe them clean.
To bring such odious Objects full in View,
Though Fools may laugh, will make a wise Man

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I desire the Reader will compare the most exceptionable Lines in the Lady's DressingRoom with the least offensive of those in Horace; although purged by me, as much as could consist with preserving the true Sense of the Original : Yet this was the great Master of Politeness in the Roman Empire, at the Time it flourished most in Arts and Arms.

Horace, you see, maketh use of the plain Novenly Words, which our decent Irish Poet Vol. VIII.

P industrioully

industriously avoideth, and skippeth over an hundred dirty Places, without fouling his Shoes. Horace, on the contrary, plainly called a Spade, a Spade, when there was not the least Necefsity; and when, with equal Ease as well as Significancy, he might have expressed his Meaning in comely Terms, fit for the nicest Ears of a Queen or a Dutchess.

I do, therefore, positively decide in Favour of our Hibernian Bard, upon the Article of Decency; and am ready to defend my Proposition against all Mankind ; that in the ten Lines of Horace, here faithfully and favourably translated, there are ten Times more slovenly Expressions, than in the whole Poem called the Lady's Dressing-Room; and for the Truth of this Proposition, I am ready to appeal to all the

young Ladies of the Kingdom, or to such a Committee as my very Adversaries shall appoint.

POEMS

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Part of the Ninth ODE of the Fourth Book

of Horace, addressed to Dr. WILLIAM KING, late Lord Archbishop of Dublin.

Paulùm Sepulta, &c.

V

IRTUE conceald within our Breast
Is Inactivity at best :

But never shall the Muse endure
To let your Virtues lie obscure,
Or suffer Envy to conceal
Your Labours for the publick Weal.
Within your Breast all Wisdom lies,
Either to govern, or advise ;
Your steady Soul preserves her Frame,
In good and evil Times the same.
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud,
Stand in

your
sacred Presence aw'd ;
P 2

Your

Your Hand alone from Gold abstains,
Which drags the slavish World in Chains.

Him for a happy Man I own,
Whofe Fortune is not overgrown;
And happy he, who wisely knows
To use the Gifts that Heav'n bestows;
Or, if it please the Pow'rs divine,
Can suffer Want, and not repine.
The Man, who, Infamy to shun,
Into the Arms of Death would run:
That Man is ready to defend
With Life, his Country, or his Friend.

A French Gentleman dining with Company on

a Fast-Day, called for some Bacon and Eggs. The rest were very angry, and reproved him for so heinous a Sin : Whereupon he wrote the following Lines, extempore, which are here translated.

PEUT

E on croire avec bon sens

Qu' un lardon le mit en colere ; ;
Ou, que manger un barange
C'est un secret pour luy plaire.
En sa gloire envelopè
Songe ť' il bien de nos foupe ?

In English.

WH

HO can believe with common Sense,

A Bacon Slice gives God Offence ? Or, how a Herring hath a Charm Almighty Anger to disarm? Wrapt up in Majesty divine, Doth he regard on what we dine ?

VERSES made for Women who cry

APPLES, &C.

A P P L E S.

C

}

OME buy my fine Wares,

Plumbs, Apples, and Pears,
A hundred a Penny,
In Conscience too many,
Come will you buy any ?
My Children are seven,
I wish them in Heaven;
My Husband's a Sot,
With his Pipe and his Pot;
Not a Farthing will gain 'em,
And I must maintain 'em,

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