Sir, will your questions never end?
I trust to neither spy nor friend.
In fhort, I keep her from the fight
Of ev'ry human face.-She'll write.-
and paper fhe's debarr'd.-

From pen

Has the a bodkin and a card?

She'll prick her mind.-She will, you say;
But how fhall the that mind convey?
I keep her in one room; I lock it;
The key (look here) is in this pocket.
The key-hole, is that left? Most certain
She'll the uft her letter thro'-Sir Martin.
Dear angry friend, what must be done?
Is there no way ?-There is but one.
Send her abroad, and let her fee
That all this mingled mass which she,
Being forbidden, longs to know,
Is a dull farce, an empty fhow,

Powder, and pocket-glafs, and beau ;
A ftaple of romance and lies,
Falfe tears, and real perjuries;

45

50

55

60

Where fighs and looks are bought and fold,
And love is made but to be told;

65

The women wretched, falfe the men ;
And when, these certain ills to fhun,
She would to thy embraces run,
Receive her with extended arms;
Seem more delighted with her charms;
Wait on her to Park and play;
Put on good humour, make her gay;
Be to her virtues very kind;
Be to her faults a little blind :
1.et all her ways be unconfin'd,

And clap your Padlock-on her mind.

A REASONABLE AFFLICTION.

N his death bed poor Lubin lies,
His fpoufe is in defpair:

With frequent fobs and mutual cries
They both express their care.
A diff'rent cause, says Parson Sly,
The fame effect may give;

Poor Lubin fears that he fhall die,

His wife that he may live.

ANOTHER.

ROM her own native France, as old Alifon paft,

malice,

That the flattern had left in the hurry and hafte
Her lady's complexion and eyebrows at Calais.

ANOTHER.

HER eyebrow box one morning loft,

(The best of folks are oft'neft croft)

Sad Helen thus to Jenny faid,
Her carelefs but afflicted maid.

Put me to bed, then, wretched Jane;
Alas! when fhall I rife again?
I can behold no mortal now,
For what's an eye without a brow?

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

Na dark corner of the house

IN

Poor Helen fits, and fobs, and cries;

She will not fee her loving spouse,
Nor her more dear Piquet allies;
Unless fhe finds her eyebrows,
She'll e'en weep out her eyes.

5

H

ON THE SAME.

ELEN was juft flipt into bed,
Her eyebrows on the toilette lay,
Away the kitten with them fled,
As fees belonging to her prey.
For this misfortune careless Jane,
Affure yourself, was loudly rated,
And Madam getting up again,

With her own hand the mouse-trap baited.
On little things, as fages write,
Depends our human joy or forrow;
If we don't catch a moufe to-night,
Alas! no eyebrows for to-morrow.

no;

A TRUE MAID.

Nwhen flore that, lays Rofe, I'll die.
for my virginity.

Behind the elms, last night, cry'd Dick,
Rose, were you not extemely fick ?

TEN

ANOTHER.

EN months after Florimel happen'd to wed, And was brought in a laudable manner to-bed, She warbled her groans with fo charming a voice That one half of the parish was ftunn'd with the noise; But when Florimel deign'd to lie privately in, Ten months before fhe and her fpoufe were a-kin, She chose with fuch prudence her pangs to conceal, That her nurfe, nay her midwife, fcarce heard her once squeall

[lives, Learn Hufbands from hence, for the peace of your That maids make not half fuch a tumult as wives. 10

FIR

A DUTCH PROVERB.

IRE, water, woman, are man's ruin,
Says wife Profeffor Vander Brüin.

By flames a houfe I hir'd was loft

Laft

year, and I must pay the cost.

This fpring the rains o'erflow'd my ground,
And my beft Flanders mare was drown'd,
A flave I am to Clara's eyes;

The gipfy knows her pow'r and flies.
Fire, water, woman, are my ruin,
And great thy wisdom Vander Brüin.

DEA

A SIMILE.

EAR Thomas, didft thou never pop
Thy head into a tinman's fhop?
There, Thomas, didst thou never fee
('Tis but by way of Simile)
A Squirrel fpend his little rage
In jumping round a rolling cage,
The cage as either fide turn'd up,
Striking a ring of bells a-top ?—

Mov'd in the orb, pleas'd with the chimes,
The foolish creature thinks he climbs;
But here or there, turn wood or wire,
He never gets two inches higher,

So fares it with thofe merry blades
That frisk it under Pindus' fhades.
In noble fongs and lofty odes

They tread on stars and talk with gods;
Still dancing in an airy round,

Still pleas'd with their own verfes found;
Brought back, how faft foe'er they go,
Always aspiring, always low.

A FLOWER.

PAINTED BY SIMON VARELST.

WHEN

5

10

5

15

20

WHEN fam'd Varelft this little wonder drew, Flora vouchfaf'd the growing works to view: Finding the painter's fcience at a ftand,

The goddess fnatch'd the pencil from his hand,

And finishing the piece, the fmiling faid,
Behold one work of mine that ne'er fhall fade.

A CASE STATED.

TOW how fhall I do with my love and my pride, Dear Dick, give me counfel if friendship has any; Pr'ythee purge, or let blood, furly Richard reply'd, And forget the coquette in the arms of your Nanny. 4

II.

While I pleaded with paffion how much I deferv'd For the pains and the torments for more than a year, She look'd in an almanack, whence the obferv'd That it wanted a fortnight to Barthol'mew fair.

III.

My Cowley and Waller how vainly I quote,
While my negligent judge only hears with her eye;
In a long flaxen wig and embroider'd new coat,
Her spark faying nothing talks better than I.

THE

A FABLE.

Perfonam tragiciam forte vulpes viderat,

O quanta fpecies, inquit, cerebrum non habet!

fox an

actor's vizard found,

And peer'd, and felt, and turn'd it round,

Then threw it in contempt away,

And thus old Phædrus heard him fay,
What noble part canft thou fustain,

Thou fpecious head without a brain?

A CRITICAL MOMENT.

12

Phædr.

He was painting her cheeks at the time her nofe

OW capricious were Nature and Art to poor Nell!

fell.