He loves cheap Port and double bub,
And settles in the Humdrum club:
He learns how stocks will fall or rise;
Holds poverty the greatest vice;
Thinks wit the bane of conversation,
And says that learning spoils a nation.
But if at first he minds his hits,
And drinks Champaigne among the wits,
Five deep he toasts the tow'ring lasses,
Repeats you verses wrote on glasses:
Is in the chair, prescribes the law,
And lies with those he never saw.

THE FLIES.

SAY, sire of insects, mighty Sol!
(A fly upon the chariot-pole
Cries out) What blue-bottle alive
Did ever with such fury drive?
Tell Belzebub! great Father, tell,
(Says t'other, perch'd upon the wheel)
Did ever any mortal fly

Raise such a cloud of dust as I?

My judgment turn'd the whole debate; My valour sav'd the sinking state.

So talk two idle buzzing things,

Toss' up their heads, and stretch their wings. But let the truth to light be brought,

This neither spoke nor t'other fought;

No merit in their own behav'our;

Both rais'd but by their party's favour.

THE FEMALE PHAETON.

THUS

I.

HUS Kitty, beautiful and young,

And wild as colt untam'd,

Bespoke the fair from whence she sprung,

With little rage inflam'd.

II.

Inflam'd with rage at sad restraint
Which wise mamma ordain'd,
And sorely vex'd to play the saint,
Whilst wit and beauty reign'd.

Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd
With Abigails, forsaken ?
Kitty's for other things design'd,
Or I am much mistaken,

IV..

Must Lady Jenny frisk about,
And visit with her cousins?

At balls must she make all the rout,
And bring home hearts by dozens?,

V.

What has she better, pray, than I? What hidden charms to boast, That all mankind for her should die, Whilst I am scarce a toast?

VI.

Dearest mamma! for once, let me
Unchain'd my fortune try:
I'll have my earl as well as she,
Or know the reason why.

VII.

I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score, Make all her lovers fall:

They'll grieve I was not loos'd before; She, I was loos'd at all,

VIII.

Fondness prevail'd, mamma gave way:
Kitty, at heart's desire,
Obtain'd the chariot for a day,

And set the world on fire.

THE WANDERING PILGRIM.

HUMBLY ADDRESSED TO

SIR THOMAS FRANKLAND, BART. Postmaster and Paymaster-general to Queen Anne.

I.

WILL PIGGOT must to Coxwould go,

To live, alas! in want, Unless Sir Thomas say No, no,

Th' allowance is too scant.

II.

The gracious knight full well does weet

Ten farthings ne'er will do
To keep a man each day in meat;
Some bread to meat is due.

III.

A Rechabite poor Will must live,
And drink of Adam's ale;
Pure element no life can give,
Or mortal soul regale.

IV.

Spare diet and spring-water clear
Physicians hold are good:
Who diets thus need never fear
A fever in the blood.

V.

Gra'mercy, Sirs, you're in the right;
Prescriptions all can sell,

But he that does not eat can't sh***
Or piss, if good drink fail.

VI.

But pass-the Esculapian crew,

Who eat and quaff the best,

They seldom miss to bake and brew,
Or lin to break their fast.

VII.

Could Yorkshire tyke but do the same,
Then he like them might thrive;
But Fortune, Fortune, cruel dame,
To starve thou dost him drive.

VIII.

In Will's old master's plenteous days,
His mem'ry e'er be blest!

What need of speaking in his praise?
His goodness stands confest.

IX.

At his fam'd gate stood Charity,
In lovely sweet array;
Ceres and Hospitality

Dwelt there both night and day,

X.

But to conclude, and be concise,
Truth must Will's voucher be;
Truth never yet went in disguise,
For naked still is she.

XI,

There is but one, but one alone,

Can set the pilgrim free,

And make him cease to pine and moan; O Frankland, it is thee!