תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Again; if not, a wife, d'ye fee,
Why then no kin at all to me:
And he, who general tears can shed
For folks that happen to be dead,
May even with equal justice mourn
For those who never yet were born.

T. Thofe points indeed you quaintly prove: But Logick is no friend to Love.

S. My children then were juft pen-feather'd:
Some little corn for them I gather'd,
And fent them to my fpoufe's mother;
So left that brood, to get another:
And, as old Harry whilom faid,
Reflecting on Anne Boleyn dead,
Cocksbones! I now again do stand
The jollyeft bachelor i' th' land.

T. Ah me! my joys, my hopes, are fled;
My FIRST, my ONLY LOVE, is dead:
With endless grief let me bemoan

[blocks in formation]

As yet my fortune was but narrow,

I woo'd my coufin Philly Sparrow,
O' th' elder houfe of Chirping End,.
From whence the younger branch descend.,
Well feated in a field of pease

She liv'd, extremely at her ease:

But, when the honey-moon was paft,

The following nights were foon o'ercaft;

She,

She kept her own, could plead the law,
And quarrel for a barley-ftraw:

Both, you may judge, became lefs kind,
As more we knew each other's mind:
She foon grew fullen; I hard-hearted;
We fcolded, hated, fought, and parted.
To London, bleffed town! I went;
She boarded at a farm in Kent.
A Magpye from the country fled,
And kindly told me fhe was dead:
I prun'd my feathers, cock'd my tail,
And fet my heart again to fale.

My FOURTH, a mere coquette, or fuch
I thought her; nor avails it much,
If true or false; our troubles spring
More from the fancy than the thing.
Two ftaring horns, I often faid,
But ill became a Sparrow's head;
But then, to fet that balance even,
Your cuckold Sparrow goes to Heaven.
The thing you fear, fuppofe it done,
If you enquire, you make it known.
Whilft at the root your horns are fore,
The more you fcratch, they ache the more.
But turn the tables, and reflect,

All may not be, that you fufpect:

By the mind's eye, the horns we mean

Are only in ideas feen;

'Tis from the infide of the head

Their branches shoot, their antlers spread;

L 2

Fruitful

Fruitful fufpicions often bear 'em,

You feel them from the time you fear 'em.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! that echoed word,
Offends the ear of vulgar bird;

But those of finer taste have found,
There's nothing in 't befide the found;
Preferment always waits on horns,
And houshold peace the gift adorns ;
This way, or that, let factions tend,
'The fpark is ftill the cuckold's friend;
This way, or that, let madam roam,
Well pleas'd and quiet fhe comes home..
Now weigh the pleasure with the pain,
The PLUS and MINUS, lofs and gain,
And what La Fontaine laughing fays,
Is ferious truth, in fuch a cafe;
"Who flights the evil, finds it least ;
"And who does nothing, does the best."
I never ftrove to rule the roast,
She ne'er refus'd to pledge my toast :
In vifits if we chanc'd to meet,
I feem'd obliging, fhe difcrect;
We neither much carefs'd nor ftrove,
But good diffembling pafs'd for love.
T. Whate'er of light our eye may know,
"Tis only light itself can fhow:
Whate'er of love our heart can feel,
'Tis mutual love alone can tell.

S. My pretty, amorous, foolish bird,
A moment's patience! in one word,

The

The three kind fifters broke the chain,
She dy'd, I mourn'd, and woo'd again.

7. Let me with jufter grief deplore
My dear Columbo, now no more;
Let me with conftant tears bewail-

S. Your forrow does but spoil my tale.
My FIFTH, fhe prov'd a jealous wife,
Lord fhield us all from fuch a life;
'Twas doubt, complaint, reply, chit-chat,
'Twas THIS, to day; to-morrow, THAT.
Sometimes, forfooth, upon the brook
I kept a Mifs; an honest Rook

Told it a Snipe, who told a Steer,
Who told it THOSE who told it HER.
One day a Linnet and a Lark
Had met me ftrolling in the dark;
The next a Woodcock and an Owl,
Quick-fighted, grave, and fober fowl,
Would on their corporal oath alledge,
I kifs'd a Hen behind the hedge.
Well; madam Turtle, to be brief,
(Repeating but renews our grief)
As once the watch'd me from a rail,
(Poor foul!) her footing chanc'd to fail,
And down fhe fell, and broke her hip;
The FEVER came, and then the PIP:
Death did the only cure apply;

She was at quiet, fo was I.

[blocks in formation]

7. Could Love unmov'd thefe changes view? His forrows, as his joys, are true.

S. My dearest Dove, one wife man says, Alluding to our prefent cafe,

"We're here to-day, and gone to-morrow :"
Then what avails fuperfluous forrow!
Another, full as wife as he,

Adds; that "a marry'd man may fee
"Two happy hours ;" and which are they?
The FIRST and LAST, perhaps you'll fay.
'Tis true, when blithe fhe goes to bed,
And when the peaceably lies dead,
"Women 'twix fheets are beft, 'tis faid,
"Be they of holland, or of lead.”
Now, cur'd of Hymen's hopes and fears,
And fliding down the vale of years,
I hop'd to fix my future reft,
And took a widow to my neft,

(Ah, Turtle! had the been like thee,
Sober, yet gentle; wife, yet free !)
But she was peevish, noify, bold,
A witch ingrafted on a fcold.
Jove in Pandora's box confin'd
A hundred ills, to vex mankind:
To vex one bird, in her bandore,
He had at least a hundred more,
And, foon as Time that veil withdrew,
The plagues o'er all the parifh flew ;

Her

« הקודםהמשך »