'Tis not your hard words will avail you,
Your Latin and your Greek will fail you,
Till you speak plainly what doth ail you.
When young, you led a life monaftick,
And wore a veft ecclefiaftick;
Now in your age you grow fantastick.
Pool. Without more preface or formality,
A female of malignant quality
Set fire on label of mortality.
The faeces of which ulceration
Brought o'er the helm a diftillation,
Through th' inftrument of propagation.
Kil. Then coufin, (as I guess the matter)
You have been an old fornicator,
And now are shot 'twixt wind and water.
Your style has fuch an ill complection,
That from your breath I fear infection,
That even your mouth needs an injection.
You that were once fo oeconomick,
Quitting the thrifty style Laconick,
Turn prodigal in Makeronick.
Yet be of comfort, I shall send a
Perfon of knowledge, who can mend a
Disaster in your nether end-a-
Whether it Pullen be or Shanker,
Cordee and crooked like an anchor,
Your cure too costs you but a spanker.
Or though your piss be sharp as razor,
Do but confer with Dr. Frazer,
He'll make your running nag a pacer.
Nor fhall you need your filver quick Sir,
Take Mongo Murrey's Black Elixir,
And in a week it cures your P
that are a man of learning,
So read in Virgil, so discerning,
Methinks towards fifty should take warning.
Once in a pit you did * mifcarry,
That danger might have made one wary;
This pit is deeper than the quarry.
Pool. Give me not fuch difconfolation,
Having now cur'd my inflammation,
To ulcerate my reputation.
Though it may gain the ladies favour,
Yet it may raise an evil favour
Upon all grave and staid behaviour.
* Hunting near Paris he and his Horfe fell into a Quarry.
And I will rub my Mater Pia,
To find a rhime to Gonorrheia,
And put it in my Litania.
An Occafional Imitation of a Modern Author upon the GAME of CHESS.
Tablet flood of that abstersive tree,
Where Ethiop's fwarthy bird did build her neft, Inlaid it was with Libyan ivory,
Drawn from the jaws of Africk's prudent beast. Two Kings like Saul, much taller than the rest, Their equal armies draw into the field; Till one take th' other prifoner they conteft; Courage and fortune must to conduct yield. This game the Perfian Magi did invent,
The force of eastern wisdom to express; From thence to bufie Europeans fent,
And styl❜d by Modern Lumbards Penfive Chefs. Yet fome that fled from Troy to Rome report, Penthefilea Priam did oblige;
Her Amazons, his Trojans taught this fport,
To pass the tedious hours of ten years fiege.
There the presents herself, whilft king and peers
Look gravely on whilst fierce Bellona fights;
Yet maiden modesty her motion steers,
Nor rudely skips o'er Bifhops heads like Knights.
Paffion of DIDO for ENEAS.
Having at large declar'd Jove's embaffy,
*Cyllenius from Æneas straight doth fly;
He loth to disobey the god's command,
Nor willing to forfake this pleasant land,
Afham'd the kind Eliza to deceive,
But more afraid to take a folemn leave;
He many ways his lab'ring thoughts revolves,
But fear o'ercoming fhame, at laft refolves
(Inftructed by the god of thieves) to steal
Himself away, and his efcape conceal.
He calls his captains, bids them rig the fleet,
That at the port they privately fhould meet;
And fome diffembled colour to project,
That Dido fhould not their defign fufpect:
But all in vain he did his plot disguise;
No art a watchful lover can furprize.
She the first motion finds; love though most fure,
Yet always to it felf feems unfecure.
That wicked fame which their first love proclaim'd,
Fore-tells the end: the queen with rage inflam'd,
Thus greets him: Thou diffembler, wouldst thou fly
Out of my arms by ftealth perfidiously?
Could not the hand I plighted, nor the love,
Nor thee the fate of dying Dido move?
And in the depth of winter in the night,
Dark as thy black designs to take thy flight,
To plow the raging feas to coafts unknown,
The kingdom thou pretend'st to, not thine own!
Were Troy restor'd, thou shouldst mistrust a wind
Falfe as thy vows, and as thy heart unkind.
Fly'st thou from me? By thefe dear drops of brine
I thee adjure, by that right hand of thine,
By our espousals, by our marriage-bed,
If all my kindness ought have merited;
If ever I stood fair in thy esteem,
From ruin, me, and my lost house redeem.
Cannot my prayers a free acceptance find?
Nor my tears foften an obdurate mind?
My fame of chastity, by which the skies
I reacht before, by thee extinguifht dies.
Into my borders now Iarbas falls,
And my revengeful brother scales my walls;
The wild Numidians will advantage take,
For thee both Tyre and Carthage me forfake.
Hadft thou before thy flight but left with me
A young Æneas, who, resembling thee,
Might in my fight have sported, I had then
Not wholly loft, nor quite deferted been;
By thee, no more my husband, but my guest,
Betray'd to mifchiefs, of which death's the least.
With fixed looks he stands, and in his breast
By Jove's command his ftruggling care fuppreft.
Great Queen, your favours and deserts so great,
Though numberless, I never shall forget;
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