MANKIND are all Fish, and I'll lay you a bet
I prove that they all will come into the Net.
The Lawyer's a Shark; and they who in shoals
Run into his jaws must be Flats or poor Soals.
The Lobster's a Turncoat; the Sluggard a Snail;
The Curate a Shrimp, and the Vicar a Whale;
The Soldier's a Sword-fish; the Critic a Carp,
That delights in the mud, and, though wary,
The Heir is a Gold-fish, but turns to a Gull;
True Lovyers are Oysters, both silent and dull;
The Poets are Spawn, but are scarce worth a drag;
Young Misses are Mackarel, caught by red Rag:
Their Swains, though all sly Fish, full frequently feel
That a fair and fresh Mack'rel oft turns to an Eel.
A Rake's a Dorado, persisting and rude;
A Beauty's a Flying-fish, always pursued.-
Thus by hook or by crook they are all to be caught;
Nay, wise ones have said they are all to be bought;
Some at high, some at low, some at fair market price,
Not a farthing per pound, or a guinea a slice!
For Maids that are good, there's no price to be set,
But for those that won't keep, or will jump to the Net,
They're
They're not worth the scales on the rump of a Dace,
Though Thousands are offer'd to catch a good Place.
And as for our Herrings, they're Fishes of Gold,
When in this good old Market each night they are sold,
THE FISHERMEN'S FINALE; A CATCH,
FOR A GROUPE OF CHARACTERS.
FRIENDSHIP, Love, and Liberty!
These at length are ours, my Boy!
Cuckoldom and Slavery!
These are yours-I wish you joy!
Would you taste the bliss of Life,
Ask of bounteous Heaven to send-
Soother sweet of every strife,
Mistress true, and faithful Friend.
Would you taste the plague of Life,
Beg of bounteous Heaven to send-
Charming sources of each strife,→
Mistress false, and faithless Friend!
I that faithful Friend possess:
Still the vagabond may grieve me:
I a Mistress true caress:
Yet the varlet may deceive me!
Davy grieve me?
Kate deceive me?
Never! never!
Never! never!
Ever! ever!
Jack e'er grieve me?
Sall deceive me?
Never! never!
Ever! ever!
Davy grieve me?
Pat deceive me?
Never never!
Ever! ever!
Marriage is a sick'ning dish!
Ne'er was seen so odd a fish!
But I swear,
Though Partlet here
Oft has griev'd me,
And deceiv'd me,
On the Sea and on the Shore,
I do love her more and more!
And though you
Have not been true,
And have griev'd me,
And deceiv'd me,
Here and there, and every where,
By these Boys and Girls I swear,
On the Sea and on the Shore,
I love Trimboat more and more!
Would you taste then bliss of life, &c.
Friendship, Love, and Liberty, &c.
ON BEING PRESENT AT THE NAMING OF A
THE Spirit of the Babe,, 'tis said, ascends
More welcome, when the Priest his succour lends;
When hallow'd Drops by sacred hands are spread,
The blessed Cross beams lambent o'er the head.
But surely Thou, sweet Infant, hadst found Grace,→
Cherub already opening in thy Face,-
Had no such mark of the Baptismal Vow
Been gently sprinkled on thy polish'd Brow;
The Sire and Son, upon their starry Throne,
Long ere this Morn had "mark'd thee for their own."
Yet, ah! may Heav'n awhile its claim forgo,
And spare thee to thy Parents here below!
PRESENTED TO THE CHILDREN OF GEORGE BLACKMAN,
ESQ. WITH PITY'S GIFT," A SELECTION
FOR YOUNGER MINDS.
WHEN Age matures the growing Sense,
And your Hearts feel benevolence;
May every Tale you here shall view
Be fondly realized in you!
To every creatfire be a Friend,
For Heav'n returns the bliss we end:
The Breast that with compassion flows
Is the best gift that Pity knows.
Late in the possession of PHILIP THICKNESSE, Esq., now belonging to Mr. COWARD of that City.
In times long past, when Life was young,
And the Muse frolick'd while she sung,
And Nature tun'd the playful lyre,
While Fancy sported with the wire;
And those were in their pride of bloom
Who now are moulder'd in the tomb;
In these hermetic Shades I sought
And fondly nurs'd poetic thought,
And twin'd a wreath with Millar's Bards,
Well pleas'd, O Vase, with thy rewards ;
Thy myrtle deeming a renown
Surpassing Cæsar's civic crown.
Here, too, I oft was wont to sit,
And share the feast of Wine and Wit
The Owner of the Scene display'd
Through many a playful theme pourtray'd:
So rich in both was Philip's store,
The flowing cup full oft ran o'er.
What pity that so warm a heart,
Which so much pleasure could impart,
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