WHAT ho, my jovial mates! come on! we'll frolic it Like fairies frisking in the merry moonshine, Seen by the curtal friar, who, from some christening, Or some blithe bridal, hies belated cell-ward ; He starts, and changes his bold bottle swagger To churchman's pace professional, and, ransacking His treacherous memory for some holy hymn, Finds but the roundel of the midnight catch. Old Play. Chap. xxx. ISTRIVE like to the vessel in the tideway, Which, lacking favouring breeze, hath not the power To stem the powerful current. Even So, Resolving daily to forsake my vices, Habit, strong circumstance, renew'd temptation, Sweep me to sea again. O heavenly breath, Fill thou my sails, and aid the feeble vessel, Which ne'er can reach the blessed port without thee! 'Tis Odds when Evens meet. Chap. XXXII. PARENTAL love, my friend, has power o'er wisdom, This sage adviser's mad, stark mad, And is the charm, which, like the my friend; falconer's lure, Can bring from heaven the highest soaring spirits. So, when famed Prosper doff'd his magic robe, And pay inquirers with the coin they It was Miranda pluck'd it from his gave her. Chap. XXIX. Old Play. shoulders. Chap. XXXIII. Old Play. That was so sharp and poignant, is And drown it not, like Egypt's royal squeezed out; While the poor rind, although as sour as ever, harlot, Dissolving her rich pearl in the brimm'd wine-cup. Must season soon the draff we give 'These are the arts, Lothario, which our grunters, shrink acres For two-legg'd things are weary on 't. Into brief yards-bring sterling pounds THIS is the very barn-yard, Where muster daily the prime cocks o' the game, AH! mark the matron well-and Ruffle their pinions, crow till they laugh not, Harry, are hoarse, At her old steeple-hat and velvet And spar about a barleycorn. Here, guard too, chickens, I've call'd her like the ear of Dionysius; The callow, unfledged brood of I mean that ear-form'd vault, built o'er the dungeon, forward folly, Learn first to rear the crest, and aim Then strike, and then you have him. He will wince; Spin out your line that it shall whistle from you Some twenty yards or so, yet you shall have him. BID not thy fortune troll upon the Marry! you must have patience; the whirls Of yonder dancing cubes of mottled bone; stout rock Which is his trust, hath edges some. thing sharp; Rove not from pole to pole-the man lives here Whose razor's only equall'd by his beer; And where, in either sense, the cockney-put May, if he pleases, get confounded cut. For the Sign of an Alehouse kept by a Barber. Chap. XXI. CHANCE will not do the work, Chance sends the breeze; But if the pilot slumber at the lielm, The very wind that wafts us towards the port Thy sober ear with sounds of revelry, Wake not the slumbering echoes of thy banks With voice of flute and horn; we do but seek On the broad pathway of thy swelling bosom May dash us on the shelves. The To glide in silent safety. steersman's part is vigilance, Blow it or rough or smooth. Chap. xxvi. The Double Bridal. Are paling one by one; give me the Though spoke with swelling heart DEATH finds us 'mid our playthings- How fares the man on whom good snatches us, men would look As a cross nurse might do a wayward With eyes where scorn and censure child, From all our toys and baubles. His rough call combated, But that kind Christian love hath taught the lesson- |