Of laft-year's corn in barns great store :
Fat turkeys gobbling at the door :
And wealth (in fhort) with peace confented,
That people here should live contented :
But did they in effect do so ?
Have patience, friend, and thou shalt know.
The honeft farmer and his wife,
To years declin❜d from prime of life,
Had ftruggled with the marriage noose;
As almost every couple does :
Sometimes, my plague! fometimes, my darling!
Kiffing to-day, to-morrow fnarling;
Jointly fubmitting to endure
That evil, which admits no cure.
Our gods the outward gate unbarr'd:
Our farmer met them in the yard;
Thought they were folks that loft their way;
And ask'd them civily to stay :
Told them, for fupper, or for bed,
They might go on, and be worfe fped.
So faid, fo done; the gods confent:
All three into the parlour went :
They compliment; they fit; they chat;
Fight o'er the wars; reform the state:
A thousand knotty points they clear,
Till fupper and my wife appear.
Jove made his leg, and kifs'd the dame:
Obfequious Hermes did the fame.
Jove kifs'd the farmer's wife, you fay!
Oh! not with half that warmth and life,
With which he kifs'd Amphitryon's wife.
Well then, things handfomely were serv'd :
My mistress for the strangers carv'd.
How ftrong the beer, how good the meat,
How loud they laugh'd, how much they eat,
In epic fumptuous would appear;
Yet fhall be pafs'd in filence here :
For I fhould grieve to have it faid,
That, by a fine description led,
I made my epifode too long,
Or tir'd my friend, to grace my fong.
The grace-cup ferv'd, the cloth away,
Jove thought it time to fhew his play :
Landlord and landlady, he cried,
Folly and jefting laid afide,
That ye thus hofpitably live,
And ftrangers with good chear receive,
Is mighty grateful to your betters,
And makes e'en gods themselves your
To give this thefis plainer proof,
You have to-night beneath your roof
A pair of gods (nay never wonder):
This youth can fly, and I can thunder.
I'm Jupiter, and he Mercurius,
My page, my fon indeed, but fpurious.
Form then three wishes, you and Madam
And fure as you already had 'em,
The things defir'd, in half an hour,
Shall all be here, and in your power..
Thank you, great gods, the woman says:
Oh! may your altars ever blaze !
A Ladle for our filver-dish
Is what I want, is what I wish.
A Ladle cries the man, a Ladle !
Odzooks, Corifca, you have pray'd ill;
What should be great, you turn to farce;
I wish the Ladle in your a-
With equal grief and shame, my Mufe
The fequel of the Tale purfues;
The Ladle fell into the room,
And ftuck in old Corifca's bum.
Our couple weep two wishes past,
And kindly join to form the last ;
To ease the woman's aukward pain,
the Ladle out again.
MOR A L.
HIS commoner has worth and parts,.
Is prais'd for arms, or lov'd for arts :-
His head aches for a coronet :
And who is blefs'd that is not great?
Some fenfe, and more eftate, kind Heaven
To this well-lotted peer has given :
What then? He must have rule and sway :-
And all is wrong, till he 's in play.
The mifer must make up his plumb,
And dares not touch the hoarded fum;
The fickly dotard wants a wife,
To draw off his laft dregs of life.
Against our peace we arm our will :
Amidst our plenty, something ftill
For horfes, houses, pictures, planting,
To thee, to me, to him, is wanting.
The cruel fomething unpoffefs'd
Corrodes, and leavens all the rest.
That something, if we could obtain,
Would foon create a future pain:
And to the coffin, from the cradle,
'Tis all a Wish, and all a Ladle.
Written at PARIS, 1700.
In the Beginning of ROBE'S GEOGRAPHY.
F all that William rules, or Robe
Defcribes, great Rhéa, of thy globe;
When or on post-horse, or in chaise,
With much expence, and little ease,
My deftin'd miles I fhall have gone,
By Thames or Maese, by Po or Rhone,
And found no foot of earth my own;
Great Mother, let me once be able
To have a garden, house, and stable;
That I may read, and ride, and plant,
Superior to defire or want;
And as health fails, and years increase,
Sit down, and think, and die, in peace.
Oblige thy favourite undertakers
To throw me in but twenty acres :
For pasture ten, and ten for plow:
"Tis all that I could wish or hope,
For me and John, and Nell and Crop.
Then, as thou wilt, dispose the rest
(And let not Fortune spoil the jest)
To those who, at the market-rate,
Can barter honour for eftate.
Now, if thou grant'ft me my request,
To make thy votary truly bleft,
Let curft revenge and faucy pride
To fome bleak rock far off be tied;
Nor e'er approach my rural feat,
To tempt me to be bafe and great.
And, Goddefs, this kind office done,
Charge Venus to command her fon
(Where-ever elfe fhe lets him rove)
To fhun my house, and field, and :
Peace cannot dwell with Hate or Love.
Hear, gracious Rhéa, what I say:
And thy petitioner shall pray.
Written in the Beginning of ME ZERAY'S
Hiftory of FRANCE.
WHATE'ER thy countrymen have done,
By law and wit, by fword and gun,
In thee is faithfully recited :
And all the living world, that view
Thy work, give thee the praises due,
At once inftructed and delighted.
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