THE INSATIABLE PRIEST.

LUKE PREACH-ILL admires what we laymen can

mean,

That thus by our profit and pleasure are sway'd: He has but three livings, and would be a dean; His wife died this year, he has married his maid.

To suppress all his carnal desires in their birth,
At all hours a lusty young hussy is near:
And, to take off his thoughts from the things of this
earth,

He can be content with two thousand a-year.

A FRENCH SONG IMITATED.

WHY thus from the plain does thy shepherdess rove, Forsaking her swain, and neglecting his love? You have heard all my grief, you see how I die, Oh! give some relief to the swain whom you fly.

How can you complain, or what am I to say, Since my dog lies unfed, and my sheep run astray? Need I tell what I mean, that I languish alone! When I leave all the plain, you may guess 'tis for

one.

A CASE STATED.

Now how shall I do with my love and my pride; Dear Dick,1 give me counsel, if friendship has

any;

Prithee purge, or let blood! surly Richard replied, And forget the coquette in the arms of your

Nanny.2

While I pleaded with passion how much I deserv'd, For the pains and the torments of more than a

year;

She look'd in an almanac, whence she observ'd, That it wanted a fortnight to Bart'l'mew-fair.

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 saying nothing talks better than I.

UPON PLAYING AT OMBRE WITH TWO LADIES.

I KNOW that fortune long has wanted sight, And therefore pardon'd when she did not right; But yet till then it never did appear,

That, as she wanted eyes, she could not hear;

1 Mr. Shelton.

2 Mrs. Durham.

I begg'd that she would give me leave to lose,
A thing she does not commonly refuse!
Two matadores are out against my game,
Yet still I play, and still my luck's the same:
Unconquer'd in three suits it does remain,
Whereas I only ask in one to gain;

Yet she, still contradicting, gifts imparts,
And gives success in every suit but hearts.

CUPID'S PROMISE.

A FRENCH SONG PARAPHRASED.

SOFT Cupid, wanton, amorous boy,
The other day, mov'd with my lyre,
In flattering accents spoke his joy,
And utter'd thus his fond desire.

Oh! raise thy voice! one song I ask;
Touch then thy harmonious string;
To Thyrsis easy is the task,

Who can so sweetly play and sing.

Two kisses from my mother dear,
Thyrsis, thy due reward shall be;
None, none, like beauty's queen is fair,
Paris has vouch'd this truth for me.

I straight replied, Thou know'st alone
That brightest Chloe rules my breast,

I'll sing thee two instead of one,

If thou'lt be kind, and make me blest.

One kiss from Chloe's lips, no more

I crave: he promis'd me success; I play'd with all my skill and power, My glowing passion to express.

But oh! my Chloe, beauteous maid! Wilt thou the wish'd reward bestow? Wilt thou make good what love has said, And, by thy grant, his power show?

TO THE EARL OF OXFORD. WRITTEN EXTEMPORE, IN LADY OXFORD'S STUDY, 1717.

PEN, ink, and wax, and paper send
To the kind wife, the lovely friend :
Smiling, bid her freely write
What her happy thoughts indite;
Of virtue, goodness, peace, and love,
Thoughts which angels may approve.

A LETTER

TO THE HONOURABLE LADY MARGARET CAVEN

DISH HARLEY, WHEN A CHILD.

My noble, lovely, little Peggy,
Let this my first epistle beg you,
At dawn of morn and close of even,
To lift your heart and hands to Heaven.
In double beauty say your prayer:
Our Father first,-then Notre Pere:
And, dearest child, along the day,
In every thing you do and say,
Obey and please my lord and lady,
So God shall love, and angels aid ye.
If to these precepts you attend,
No second letter need I send,

And so I rest your constant friend.

LINES 1

WRITTEN UNDER THE PRINT OF TOM BRITTON,
THE SMALL-COAL-MAN, PAINTED BY

MR. WOOLASTON.

THOUGH doom'd to small-coal, yet to arts allied,
Rich without wealth, and famous without pride;

1 These verses were written by Mr. Prior to serve Vertue, then a young man, and patronized by Edward Earl of