TO A

LADY EXTRAVAGANT IN THE PURCHASE OF PAINT.

WHY purchase complexion at such a dear rateI can teach you to blush with less cost and more truth

The receipt is, to think on your poor cuckold mate, And the manifold lecherous pranks of your youth.

A SERIOUS MISFORTUNE,

WHY see we Spindle all so sad,

Why in grief's gloomiest trappings clad?
"Sad!" you reply- With grief I speak,
'My wife's dear brother died last week.'
What is the rich Equestrian gone,
Before the age of twenty-one,

From whom your wife inherits clear
At least three thousand pounds a year?
Spindle! 'tis sad-most melancholy,
-I'm sorely vext it should befall ye.

ΤΟ Α

FRIEND ON HIS BEING LAMPOONED

WHY seem surprised that ribald Sly

O'er you his Grub-street bounty scatters?

When a full mud-cart passes by,

"Tis odds that you escape the spatters.

THE WONDER DESTROYED.

WHY should we wonder, that in old records,
An ass is said to 've spoken in human words?
Since in these modern, learn'd, enlighten'd times,
Brutes speak not only prose, but oft in rhymes:
Such verse some neighing brute must sure indite,
Or else some braying, duller beasts must write.
-But, hold, perhaps I'm wrong, this will not pass,
A heavy mule is neither horse nor ass.

What you deny, she gave unsought,
And if to my embrace were brought,

for whom Greece and Ilion fought, ven her for you would I disdain,

Yours, Jenny, yours!

Then meet my passion as you ought,
Nor aim, in vain coquetry taught,
By coy caprice to fix your reign;
If I whole months must sue to gain
What can in every street be bought;

Yours, Jenny, yours!

THE END.

Barlow and Child, Printers,

Knowles' Court, Little Carter Lane, St. Paul's.