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TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.

A TA L E.

NCE on a time, in fun-fhine weather,

ONC

Falfehood and Truth walk'd out together,
The neighbouring woods and lawns to view,
As oppofites will fometimes do.

Through many a blooming mead they paft,
And at a brook arriv'd at last.

The purling ftream, the margin green,
With flowers bedeck'd, a vernal fcene,
Invited each itinerant maid,

To eft a while beneath the fhade.
Under a spreading beach they fat,
And pafs'd the time with female chat;
Whilft each her character maintain'd;
One spoke her thoughts, the other feign'd.
At length, quoth Falsehood, Sister Truth,.
(For so she call'd her from her youth),
What if, to fhun yon' fultry beam,
We bathe in this delightful stream;
The bottom fmooth, the water clear,
And there's no prying fhepherd near ?-
With all my heart, the Nymph reply'd,
And threw her fnowy robes afide,
Stript herself naked to the skin,
And with a spring leapt headlong in.
Falsehood more leifurely undreft,
And, laying by her taudry veft,
Trick'd herself out in Truth's array,
And cross the meadows tript away.

From

From this curft hour, the fraudful dame
Of facred Truth ufurps the name,
And, with a vile, perfidious mind,
Roams far and near, to cheat mankind;
Falfe fighs fuborns, and artful tears,
And starts with vain pretended fears;
In vifits, ftill appears moft wife,
And rolls at church her faint-like eyes;
Talks very much, plays idle tricks,
While rifing stock * her confcience pricks;
When being, poor thing, extremely gravel'd,
She fecrets op'd, and all unravel'd.

But on fhe will, and fecrets tell

Of John and Joan, and Ned and Nell,
Reviling every one she knows,
As fancy leads, beneath the rofe.
Her tongue fo voluble and kind,
It always runs before her mind;
As times do ferve, fhe flily pleads,
And copious tears ftill fhew her needs.
With promifes as thick as weeds-
Speaks pro and con, is wondrous civil,
To-day a Saint, to-morrow Devil.

Poor Truth fhe ftript, as has been faid,
And naked left the lovely maid,
Who, fcorning from her cause to wince,
gone stark-naked ever fince;

Has

And ever naked, will appear,

Belov'd by all who Truth revere.

#South-Sea, 1720.

}

THE

THE CONVERSATION.

IT

A TAL E.

T always has been thought difcreet,
To know the company you meet;
And fure there may be fecret danger,
In talking much before a stranger.
"Agreed: What then?" Then drink
I'll pledge you, and repeat my tale.

No matter where the fcene is fixt:
The perfons were but oddly mixt;
When fober Damon thus began
(And Damon is a clever man):

your

"I now grow old; but ftill, from youth,
"Have held for Modefty and Truth.
"The men, who by these fea marks fteer,
"In life's great voyage never err:
"Upon this point I dare defy

"The world. I paufe for a reply."

“Sir, either is a good affistant,"

Said one who fat a little diftant:
"Truth decks our fpeeches and our books;

"And Modesty adorns our looks:

"But farther progress we must take;

"Not only born to look and fpeak :
"The man must act. The Stagyrite
"Says thus, and fays extremely right:

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ale;

"Strict

"Strict juftice is the fovereign guide,
"That o'er our actions fhould prefide :
"This Queen of Virtues is confest
"To regulate and bind the rest.
"Thrice happy, if you once can find
"Her equal balance poife your mind:
"All different graces foon will enter,
"Like lines concurrent to their center.”
'Twas thus, in fhort, thefe two went on,
With yea and nay, and pro and con,
Through many points divinely dark,
And Waterland affaulting Clarke;
Till, in theology half loft,

Damon took up the Evening-Poft;
Confounded Spain, compos'd the North,
And deep in politicks held forth.

"Methinks we 're in the like condition, "As at the Treaty of Partition :

"That stroke, for all King William's care,
"Begat another tedious war.

"Matthew, who knew the whole intrigue,
"Ne'er much approv'd that mystic league:
"In the vile Utrecht Treaty too,
"Poor man! he found enough to do.
"Sometimes to me he did apply;
“But down-right Dunstable was I,
"And told him where they were mistaken,
"And counsel'd him to fave his bacon:
"But (pafs his politicks and profe)

"I never herded with his foes;

« Nay,

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"I ftill found fomething to commend.

"Sir, I excus'd his Nut-brown Maid;
"Whate'er feverer critics faid:
"Too far, I own, the girl was try'd:
The women all were on my fide.

For Alma I return'd him thanks;
❝ I lik'd her with her little pranks:
“Indeed, poor Solomon in rhyme
"Was much too grave to be fublime."
Pindar and Damon fcorn tranfition,

So on he ran a new divifion;

Till, out of breath, he turn'd to fpit;
(Chance often helps us more than wit).
T'other that lucky moment took,

Juft nick'd the time, broke in, and spoke.
“Of all the gifts the gods afford
(If we may take old Tully's word),
"The greateft is a friend; whofe love
"Knows how to praife, and when
"From fuch a treasure never part,

reprove :

But hang the jewel on your heart: "And, pray, Sir, (it delights me) tell; "You know this Author mighty well?" "Know him! d'ye queftion it? Ods-fish! “Sir, does a beggar know his dish? "I lov'd him; as I told you, I "Advis'd him -"Here a ftander-by Twitch'd Damon gently by the cloke,·· And thus, unwilling, filence broke;

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