That, Nature gives; and where the leffon taught Is but to please, can Pleasure feem a fault? Experience, this; by Man's oppreffion curft, They feek the fecond, not to lose the first.

Men, fome to Bus'nefs, fome to Pleasure take; But ev'ry Woman is at heart a Rake:

Men, fome to Quiet, Tome to public Strife;
But ev'ry Lady would be Queen for Life.
IBID. P. 131.

And yet, believe me, good as well as ill,
Woman's at beft a contradiction ftill.
Heav'n, when it ftrives to polish all it can'
It's last best work, but forms a fofter Man;
Picks from each fex, to make the Fav'rite bleft,
Your love of Pleasure, our defire of Rest:
Blends, in exception to all genʼral rules,

Your taste of Follies, with our fcorn of Fools:
Referve with Franknefs, Art with Truth ally'd,
Courage with Softnefs, Modefty with Pride;
Fix'd Principles, with Fancy ever new;
Shakes all together, and produces-You.

IBID. P. 137.

WE AL T H.

BLEST paper-credit! laft and beft fupply! That lends Corruption lighter wings to fly! Gold, imp'd by thee, can compafs hardest things, Can pocket States, can fetch or carry Kings;

A fingle

A fingle leaf fhall waft an Army o'er,

Or fhip off Senates, to fome diftant Shore;
A leaf, like Sibyl's, scatter to and fro

Our fates and fortunes, as the wind shall blow: Pregnant with thousands flits the Scrap unseen, And filent fells a King, or buys a Queen.

Oh! that fuch bulky Bribes as all might fee, Still, as of old, incumber'd Villainy! Could France or Rome divert our brave defigns, With all their brandies, or with all their wines? What could they more than Knights and 'Squires confound,

Or water all the Quorum ten miles round?

A ftatefman's flumbers how this fpeech would spoil! Sir, Spain has fent a thousand jars of oil;

66

Huge bales of British cloth blockade the door; "A hundred oxen at your levee roar.”

Poor Avarice one torment more would find; Nor could Profufion fquander all in kind. Aftride his cheese Sir Morgan might we meet; And Worldly crying coals from street to street, Whom with a wig fo wild, and mien so maz'd, Pity mistakes for fome poor tradefman craz'd. Had Colepepper's whole wealth been hops and hogs, Could he himself have fent it to the dogs? His Grace will game: to White's a Bull be led, With fpurning heels, and with a butting head; To White's be carry'd, as to ancient games, Fair Courfers, Vafes, and alluring Dames.

Shall then Uxorio, if the fakes he sweep,

Bear home fix Whores, and make his Lady weep?
Or foft Adonis, fo perfum'd and fine,

Drive to St. James's a whole herd of swine?
Oh filthy check on all induftrious skill,

To fpoil the nation's laft great trade, Quadrille !
Since then, my Lord, on fuch a World we fall,
What fay you? B. Say? Why take it, Gold and all.

P. What Riches give us, let us then inquire? Meat, Fire, and Clothes. B. What more? P. Meat, Clothes, and Fire.

Is this too little? Would you more than live ?
Alas! 'tis more than Turner finds they give.
Alas! tis more than (all his vifions paft)
Unhappy Wharton, waking, found at last!
What can they give? to dying Hopkins, Heirs ;
To Chartres, Vigour; Japhet, Nofe and Ears P
Can they, in gems bid pallid Hippia glow,
In Fulvia's buckle ease the throbs below;
Or heal, old Narfes, thy obfcener ail,
With all th'embroid'ry plaifter'd at thy tail?
They might (were Harpax not too wife to spend)
Give Harpax' felf the bleffing of a Friend;
Or find fome Doctor that would fave the life
Of wretched Shylock, fpite of Shylock's Wife:
But thousands die, without or this or that,
Die, and endow a College, or a Cat.

To fome, indeed, Heav'n grants the happier fate,
T'enrich a Baftard, or a Son they hate.

IBID. P. 143.

AVA

AVARICE.

OLD Cotta fham'd his fortune and his birth, Yet was not Cotta void of wit or worth:

What though (the ufe of barb'rous fpits forgot)
His kitchen vy'd in coolness with his grot?
His court with nettles, moats with creffes ftor'd,
With foups unbought and fallads blefs'd his board?
If Cotta liv'd on pulfe, it was no more
Than Bramins, Saints, and Sages did before;
To cram the rich was prodigal expence,

And who would take the Poor from Providence?
Like fome lone Chartreux stands the good old Hall,
Silence without, and fafts within the wall;
No rafter'd roofs with dance and tabor found,
No noontide bell invites the country round:
Tenants with fighs the fmoaklefs tow'rs furvey,
And turn th’unwilling fteeds another way:
Benighted wanderers, the foreft o'er,

Curfe the fav'd candle, and unop'ning door;
While the gaunt maftiff growling at the gate,..
Affrights the beggar whom he longs to eat.

IBID. P. 150.

THE MAN OF ROSS.

BUT all our praises why should Lords engross? Rife, honeft Mufe! and fing the MAN of Ross: Pleas'd Vaga echoes through her winding bounds, And rapid Severn hoarfe applause refounds. Who hung with woods yon mountain's fultry brow? From the dry rock who bad the waters flow?

Not to the skies in ufelefs columns toft,
Or in proud falls magnificently loft,.

But clear and artless, pouring through the plain
Health to the fick, and folace to the swain.
Whofe Causeway parts the vale with fhady rows?
Whofe Seats the weary Traveller repofe?

Who taught that heav'n-directed spire to rife?
"The MAN of Ross," each lifping babe replies.
Behold the Market-place with poor o'erfpread!
The MAN of Ross divides the weekly bread:
He feeds yon Alms-house, neat, but void of state,
Where Age and Want fit smiling at the gate;
Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans bleft,
The young who labour, and the old who reft.
Is any fick the MAN of Ross relieves,
Prefcribes, attends, the med'cine makes, and gives.
Is there a variance? enter but his door,
Baulk'd are the Courts, and conteft is no more
Defpairing Quacks with curfes fled the place,
And vile Attorneys, now an useless race.

B. Thrice happy man! enabled to purfue What all fo wifh, but want the pow'r to do! Oh fay, what fums that gen'rous hand supply? What mines to fwell that boundless charity?

P. Of Debts and Taxes, Wife and Children clear, This man poffefs'd-five hundred pounds a year. Bluth, Grandeur, blush! proud Courts, withdraw your blaze!

Ye little Stars! hide your diminish'd rays.

IBID. P. 153.