That Betty with her drops in vain Recalls her flying foul again. No colour now so fair appears 1455 As is the fable vest she wears, In myftick terms the fair one's mind. Maintain, great Sage! thy deathless name; Thou canst no wider ftretch thy fame 1460 1465 1470 1...! 1475 Till gliding from her native fkies And boasts herself by thee enthron'd. 1481 THE LAST BILLET. SEPTEMBER and November now were past } Why with those Oaks, under whofe facred shade Charles was prefer v'd, should any fire be made? At laft a frost, a dismal frost! there came Like that which made a market upon Thame: Unruly company would then have made Fire with this Log, whilft thus its owner pray'd: "Thou that art worshipp'd in Dodona's grove "From all thy facred Trees fierce flames remove; "Preserve this groaning Branch: O hear my pray'r! 66 Spare me this oné, this one poor Billet spare, 15 "That having many fires and flames withstood "Its ancient teftimonial may laft good "In future times to prove I once had Wood!" 18 THE MAD LOVER. 1 I'LL from my breaft tear fond defire Since Laura is not mine; I'll ftrive to cure the am'rous fire, And quench the flame with wine. } Perhaps in groves and cooling shade Soft flumbers I may find; There all the vows to Laura made The fpeaking ftrings and charming fong My paffion may remove : Oh! mufick will the pain prolong, And is the food of Love, I'll fearch heav'n, earth, hell, feas, and air, And that fhall fet me free: Oh! Laura's image will be there Where Laura will not be. My foul must still endure the pain That once was Laura's flave. THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING, A SOLILOQUY BY NAN. THRASHERWELL, Being part of a Play called The New Troop. My dear Thrasherwell! you 're gone to sea, Perhaps he is on land at Portsmouth now In the embraces of fome Hampfhire fow, Who with a wanton pat cries, "Now, my Dear! "You're wishing for fome Wapping doxy here.""Pox on them all! but most on bouncing Nan, "With whom the torments of my life began: "She is a bitter one!"-You lic, you Rogue! You are a treach'rous, false, ungrateful, dog. Did not I take you up without a fhirt? Wo worth the hand that scrubb'd off all your dirt! Did not my int'rest list you in the Guard? And had not you ten fhillings? my reward. 5 15 Did I not then before the Sergeant's face When I had the whole regiment to loofe? Curs'd be the day when you produc'd your sword, 20 26 29 THE OLD CHEESE. 5 YOUNG Slouch the farmer had a jolly wife Not diff'ring much from calling of him fool, In fact the master of his family. ΙΟ He faid "That the next Tuesday noon would show "Whether he were the lord at home or no, "When their good company he would entreat "To well-brew'd ale and clean if homely meat." With aking heart home to his wife he goes, And on his knees does his rafh act disclose, And prays dear Sukey that one day at least He might appear as mafter of the feast. Volume II. L 20 25 |