The horse and pillion both were gone!
Phillis it feems, was fled with John.
Old madam, who went up to find
What papers Phil had left behind,
A letter on the toilet fees,
To my much honour'd father-thefe, ('Tis always done, romances tell us, When daughters run away with fellows) Fill'd with the choiceft common-places, By others us'd in the like cafes. "That long ago a fortune-teller Exactly faid what now befel her; "And in a glafs had made her fee "A ferving-man of low degree. "It was her fate, must be forgiven ; "For marriages were made in heaven & "His pardon begg'd; but, to be plain, "She'd do't, if 'twere to do again : "Thank'd God, 'twas neither fhame nor fin "For John was come of honeft kin. "Love never thinks of rich and poor : "She'd beg with John from door to door. "Forgive her, if it be a crime; "She'll never do't another time. "She ne'er before in all her life "Once disobey'd him, maid nor wife.. "One argument fhe fumm'd up all in, "The thing was done, and paft recalling; VOL. VI.
"And therefore hop'd she should recover
"His favour when his paffion's over.
"She valu'd not what others thought her,
"And was-his moft obedient daughter."
Fair maidens, all attend the mufe,
Who now the wand'ring pair pursues:
Away they rode in homely fort,
Their journey long, their money fhort;
The loving couple well bemir'd';
The horse and both their riders tir'd;
Their victuals bad, their lodging worfe;
Phil cry'd, and John began to curse:
Phil wifh'd, that she had ftrain'd a limb,
When first fhe ventur'd out with him;
John wifh'd, that he had broke a leg,
When first for her he quitted Peg.
But what adventures more befel 'em,
The mufe hath now no time to tell 'em :
How Johnny wheedled, threaten'd, fawn'd,
Till Phillis all her trinkets pawn'
'd:
How oft fhe broke her marriage vows
In kindness to maintain her spousfe,
Till fwains unwholefome fpoil'd the trade;
For now the furgeons must be paid,
To whom thofe perquifites are gone,
In christian justice due to John.
When food and raiment now grew scarce, Fate put a period to the farce,
And with exact poetick juftice;
For John is landlord, Phillis hoftess:
They keep at Staines the Old Blue Boar,
Are cat and dog, and rogue and whore.
'HE farmer's goofe, who in the ftubble
Has fed without reftraint or trouble,
Grown fat with corn, and fitting ftill,
Can fcarce get o'er the barn-door fill ;
And hardly waddles forth to cool
Her belly in the neighb'ring pool;
Nor loudly cackles at the door;
For cackling fhews the goofe is poor.
But, when she must be turn'd to grazė,
And round the barren common ftrays,
Hard exercise and harder fare
Soon make my dame grow lank and spare t
Her body light, fhe tries her wings,
And fcorns the ground, and upward springs;
While all the parish, as fhe flies,
Hear founds harmonious from the fkies,
Such is the poet fresh in pay,
(The third night's profits of his play ;)
His morning-draughts 'till noon can fwill
Among his brethren of the quill:
With good roast beef his belly full,
Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull,
Deep funk in plenty and delight,
What poet e'er could take his flight?
Or, stuff'd with phlegm up to the throat,
What poet e'er could fing a note?
Nor Pegafus could bear the load
Along the high celestial road;
The steed opprefs'd would break his girth
To raise the lumber from the earth.
But view him in another scene,
When all his drink is Hippocrene,
His money spent, his patrons fail,
His credit out for cheese and ale;
His two-years coat fo fmooth and bare,
Through ev'ry thread it lets in air;
With hungry meals his body pin'd,
His guts and belly full of wind;
And, like a jockey for a race,
His flesh brought down to flying case:
Now his exalted spirit loaths
Incumbrances of food and cloaths;
And up he rifes, like a vapour,
Supported high on wings of paper;
He finging flies, and flying fings,
While from below all Grubstreet rings.
PROGRESS OF BEAUTY.
WHEN firft Diana leaves her bed,
Vapours and fteams her look difgrace,
A frowzy dirty-colour'd red
Sits on her cloudy wrinkled face:
But by degrees, when mounted high
Her artificial face appears
Down from her window in the sky,
Her spots are gone, her vifage clears.
'Twixt earthly females and the moon All parallels exactly run :
If Celia fhould appear too foon,
Alas, the nymph would be undone !
To fee her from her pillow rife,
All reeking in a cloudy steam,
Crack'd lips, foul teeth, and gummy eyes,
Poor Strephon, how wou'd he blafpheme l
Three colours, black, and red, and white,
So graceful in their proper place,
Remove them to a diff'rent fcite,
They form a frightful hideous face :
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