}

YOME follow me by the Smell,

Here's delicate Onyons to sell,
I promise to use

you

well.
They make the Blood warmer,
You'll feed like a Farmer :
For this is ev'ry Cook's Opinion,
No fav'ry Dish without an Onyon ; .
But left your kissing should be spoild,
Your Onyons must be th'roughly boild ;

Or else you may spare

Your Mistress a Share,
The Secret will never be known;

l;
She cannot discover

The Breath of her Lover, But think it as sweet as her own.

O Y S T ER S.

CH

HARMING Oysters I cry,
My

Masters come buy;

So plump and so fresh,
So sweet is their Flesh,
No Colchester Oyster
Is sweeter and moister;
Your Stomach they settle,
And rouse up your Mettle ;
They'll make you a Dad
Of a Lass or a Lad;
And, Madam your Wife

They'll please to the Life;
Be the barren, be she old,
Be she Slut, or be the Scold,
Eat my Oysters, and lie near her,
She'll be fruitful, never fear her.

H E RR I N G S.

B

}

E not sparing,

Leave off swearing,
Buy my Herring;
Fresh from * Malahide,

Better ne'er was try'd.
Come eat 'em with pure fresh Butter and

Mustard, Their Bellies are soft, and as white as a Custard. Come, Sixpence a Dozen to get me some Bread, Or, like my own Herrings, I soon shall be dead.

* Malahide, a Village five Miles from Dublin, famous for Oysters.

P4

ORANGES. OR A N G E S.

TOME buy my fine Oranges, Sauce for

COME

your Veal,

And charming when squeez’d in a Pot of

brown Ale ; Well roasted, with Sugar and Wine in a Cup, They'll make a sweet Bishop when Gentlefolks

sup.

To L O V E.

IN
N all I wish, how happy should I be,

Thou grand Deluder, were it not for thee. So weak thou aft, that Fools thy Pow'r despise, And, yet so strong, thou triumph'st o'er the

Wise : Thy Traps are laid with such peculiar Art, They catch the cautious, let the rash depart. Most Nets are filld by want of Thought and

Care, But too much thinking brings us to thy Snare.

Where held by thee, in Slavery we stay,

And throw the pleasing Part of Life away.. But, what doth most my Indignation move, Discretion, thou wer't ne'er a Friend to Love: Thy chief Delight is to defeat those Arts By which he kindles mutual Flames in Hearts,

While the blind loit’ring God is at his Play, Thou steal'st his golden-pointed Darts away ; Those Darts which never fail; and in their

stead Convey'st malignant Arrows tipt with Lead: The heedless God suspecting no Deceits, Shoots on, and thinks he has done wond'rous

Feats ; But, the poor Nymph, who feels her Vitals

burn, And from her Shepherd can find no Return, Laments and rages at the Pow'rs divine, When, curst Discretion, all the Fault was thine: Cupid and Hymen thou hast set at Odds, And bred such Feuds between those kindred

Gods, That Venus cannot reconcile her Sons, When one appears, away the other runs. The former Scales, wherein he us'd to poise Love against Love, and equal Joys with Joys, Are now fill'd

up

with Avarice and Pride, Where Titles, Pow'r, and Riches still subside: Then, gentle Venus, to thy Father run, And tell him, how thy Children are undone ; Prepare his Bolts, to give one fatal Blow, And strike Discretion to the Shades below.

The

FRAIL

The following Lines were written upon a very

old Glass of Sir Arthur Acheson's. RAIL Glass, thou bear'st that Name, as

well as I, Tho' none can tell which of us first shall die.

Answered (for the Glass] extempore, by Dr.

SWIFT,

ME on Creature,

E only Chance can kill; thou, frailer

Creature, May die like me by Chance, but must by

Nature.

The ELEPHANT; or, The PARLIAMENT

MAN. .

Written many Years since ; and taken from

COKE's Institutes.

E

’ER Bribes convince you whom to chufe,

The Precepts of Lord Coke peruse.
Observe an Elephant, says he,
And let like him your Member be:
First take a Man that's free from Gaul :
For Elephants have none at all,
In Flocks, or Parties, he must keep :
For Elephants live just like Sheep.

Stubborn