That Whitfield Garrick does corrupt the age,
And taints the sound religion of the stage.
-Thou great infallible! forbear to war;
Thy bulls and errors are rever'd no more:
Where doctrines meet with general approbation,
It is not heresy, but reformation.
POSSESS'D of one great hall for state,
Without one room to sleep or eat:
How well you build, let flatt'ry tell,
And all mankind how ill you dwell.
A DAY AFTER THE FAIR.
POST haste to church flew Nick and bride,
The knot as speedily was tied;
Far from the busy town they seek
A calm retreat, and stay'd a week,
When with like speed as took them down,
The pair arrive again in town.
Nick's friends now crowd to wish him joy,
When, cries the now experienc'd boy-
"In vain you strive to soften fate,
"Your wishes are a week too late."
TIME TO THE ANTIQUARIAN.
POX on't, quoth Time to Thomas Hearne,
Whatever I forget you learn.
THE ANTIQUARIAN'S REPLY. DAMN it! cries Hearne, in furious fret; Whate'er I learn, you'll soon forget.
"PRAY give me," says Pat, to a tradesman in town, "The things my old Mistress has there written down."
<Written down!' replies Ledger, she plays thee a
'There's no writing here; see, the paper is blank! "Aye blank, sure enough, who the devil had thought
"The Beldam was sartainly drunk when she wrote it!"
TO AN OLD MONITOR.
PRAY now, grave sir! spend not so much advice,
Speak little, if you'd have me think you wise;
You rail at things which you yourself are past,
Much rather rail at time, and nature's haste;
For, were you young and vigorous, like me,
You wou'd improve the gifts of liberty.
When young as I, you, doubtless, were the same,
Your heart on fire at ev'ry woman's name,
And nature sally'd to assist the flame.
Gay things you sought, brisk pleasures your delight,
Free was your fancy, keen your appetite.
But, since your head is winter'd o'er with snow,
We cannot wonder at the frost below.
ON A CERTAIN POET.
PRIDE is his pity, artifice his praise,
A masque his virtue, and his fame a blaze;
Insult his charity, his friendship fear,
And nothing, but his vanity, sincere..
PROUD Greece, in arts ambitious to excel,
Homer's learn'd Iliad crowded in a shell;
Bathillus took the hint, and would repeat
A wonder, not the same, but full as great;
With joy he sees his spacious villa rise,
Admires the stately height, and ample size;
His chambers richly gilt, his lofty doors,
Large statues, cedar roofs, and marble floors,
His fountains, walks, and gardens, finish'd-all
Complete, except his stairs, saloon, and hall:
He sells his farms, and forests round consumes,
And crowds whole manors into single rooms.
PRITHEE, is not miss Chloe's a comical case?
She lends out her tail, and she borrows her face.
THE OLD COQUETTE.
PRITHEE, old Ruga, paint give o'er,
Those ribbons, and that youthful dress;
For those gray hairs betray fourscore,
And nature in decay confess.
Those eye-brows, which from mouse you steal,
'Tis true, we for their sleekness prize:
But then, (what they can ne'er conceal)
We curse the more thy rheumy eyes.
This cheek is smooth; but, ah! on that
The wrinkled paint betrays a cranny;
You look at once-I know not what-
This side a Venus-that a Granny.
Your faults of age we doubly see
When them, in vain, with art you'd mend;
Seem old and ugly, as you be,
And, Ruga, 'faith, you'd less offend.
QUOTH Cibber to Pope, though in verse you fore. close,
I'll have the last word-for, by G-d, I'll write prose: Poor Colly thy reasoning is none of the strongest, For know the last word is the word that lasts longest.
A SLIP OF THE TONGUE.
QUOTH Dick to Jack,with phiz full meek and mild; Dear Friend, 'tween you and I, my wife's with child; Quoth Jack to Dick, Dear Friend, that's not so clear; I'm sure I have not lain with her this year.
Between Harry, who had a better library than understanding, and Dick, who had a better understanding than library.
QUOTH Harry to his friend one day,
"Would Richard, I'd thy head!"
What wilt thou give for it? (Dick replied)
The bargain's quickly made.'
"My head, and all my books, I'd give,
"With readiness and freedom."
I'd take thy books; but with thy head
I fear I ne'er could read 'em.'
RESIGNATION A VIRTUE.
RICHARD o' th' green, grown old, and very poor,
For Sunday's change, had but the shirt he wore;
Wakes, fairs, or markets, or whatever came,
He wore his linen, turn'd, but still the same:
Whene'er 'twas wash'd, or when a bleaching spread,
He stripp'd to buff, and lay the while in bed:
At last, as drying in the sun shine laid,
Some thief, that made no conscience of his trade,
(A faithless strip-bush, who ne'er fail'd the sport)
Skulk'd slily by, and stole away the shirt:
The good old wife screams out aloud, undone!
O! husband! gaffer! O! thy shirt is gone!
He cries, in bed-Peace, fool, is that such news!
Those that have something, they must something lose.
RICH Gripe does all his thoughts and cunning
T'encrease that wealth he wants the soul to spend:
Poor Shifter does his whole contrivance set,
To spend that wealth he wants the sense to get.
How happy would appear to each his fate,
Had Gripe his humour, or he Gripe's estate?
Kind fate and fortune, blend 'em, if you can,
And, of two wretches, make one happy man.
IMITATION OF CHAUCER.
RIGHT welle by learned clerkis it is said,
That womanhode for mannis use was made,
But naughty manne liketh not one or soe,
But wisheth aye unthriftilie for mo;
And when by holy church to one he's tied,
Then for his soule he cannot her abide.
Thus when a dogge first ligteth on a bone,
His tail he waggeth, gladde thereof y-grown,
But if thilke bone unto his taile thou tie,
Pardie, he fearing it, away doth flie.
Occasioned by the intended Demolition of Friar
Bacon's Study, in Oxford.
ROGER! if with thy magic glasses,
Running, thou see'st below what passes,
As when on earth thou didst descry
With them the wonders of the sky-
Look down on yon devoted walls!
Oh! save them e'er thy study falls!
Or to thy votaries quick impart
The secret of thy mystic art!
Teach us, ere learning's quite forsaken,
To honour thee, and-save our Bacon!
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