She, with soft fpeech, my anguish cheers,
Or melts my paffions down with tears:
Although 'tis easy to descry

She wants affiftance more than I;
Yet feems to feel my pains alone,
And is a Stoic in her own.

When, among scholars, can we find
So foft, and yet fo firm a mind?
All accidents of life conspire

To raise up Stella's virtue higher;
Or elfe to introduce the rest

Which had been latent in her breast.

Her firmness who could e'er have known,

Had the not evils of her own?

Her kindness who could ever guess,

Had not her friends been in diftrefs?
Whatever bafe returns you find

From me, dear Stella, ftill be kind.

In your own heart you'll reap the fruit,
Though I continue ftill a brute.

But, when I once am out of pain,
I promise to be good again:
Meantime, your other jufter friends
Shall for my follies make amends:
So may we long continue thus,
Admiring you, you pitying us.

Ο Ν

ON DREAM S.

AN IMITATION OF PETRONIUS.

"Somnia quæ mentes ludunt volitantibus umbris," &c.

THOSE dreams, that on the filent night intrude,
And with falfe flitting fhades our minds delude,
Jove never fends us downward from the skies;
Nor can they from infernal manfions rife;
But are all mere productions of the brain,
And fools confult interpreters in vain.

For, when in bed we reft our weary limbs,
The mind unburden'd sports in various whims;
The bufy head with mimic art runs o'er
The scenes and actions of the day before,

The drowsy tyrant, by his minions led,
To regal rage devotes fome patriot's head.
With equal terrors, not with equal guilt,
The murderer dreams of all the blood he fpilt.

The foldier fmiling hears the widow's cries,
And ftabs the fon before the mother's eyes.
With like remorfe his brother of the trade,
The butcher, fells the lamb beneath his blade.

The statesman rakes the town to find a plot, And dreams of forfeitures by treason got. Nor lefs Tom-t-d-man, of true ftatefman mold, Collects the city filth in search of gold.

Orphans around his bed the lawyer fees, And takes the plaintiff's and defendant's fees. His fellow pick-purse, watching for a job, Fancies his finger's in the cully's fob.

The kind physician grants the husband's prayers, Or gives relief to long-expecting heirs.

The fleeping hangman ties the fatal noose,
Nor unfuccefsful waits for dead men's fhoes.

The grave divine, with knotty points perplext,
As if he was awake, nods o'er his text:
While the fly mountebank attends his trade,
Harangues the rabble, and is better paid.

The hireling fenator of modern days
Bedaubs the guilty great with nauseous praise:
And Dick the scavenger with equal grace
Flirts from his cart the mud in ******s face.

WHITSHED'S MOTTO ON HIS

COACH.

1724.

IBERTAS et natale folum :

LIB

Fine words! I wonder where you ftole 'em.

Could nothing but thy chief reproach

Serve for a motto on thy coach?

But let me now the words tranflate:

Natale folum, my eftate;

My dear eftate, how well I love it!

My tenants, if you doubt, will prove it.

*The chief juftice who profecuted the Drapier.

They

They swear I am fo kind and good,
I hug them, till I fqueeze their blood,
Libertas bears a large import:

First, how to swagger in a court;
And, fecondly, to fhew iny fury
Against an uncomplying jury;
And, thirdly, 'tis a new invention,
To favour Wood, and keep my penfion;
And, fourthly, 'tis to play an odd trick,
Get the great feal, and turn out Broderick;
And, fifthly, (you know whom I mean)
To humble that vexatious Dean;

And, fixthly, for my foul, to barter it
For fifty times its worth to Carteret *.
Now, fince your motto thus you conftrue,
I must confefs you've spoken once true.
Libertas et natale folum :

You had good reason, when you ftole 'em.

Sent by Dr. DELANY to Dr. SWIFT, In order to be admitted to fpeak to him,

when he was DEAF, 1724.

EAR fir, I think, 'tis doubly hard,

DEA

Your ears and doors fhould both be barr'd,

Can any thing be more unkind?

Muft I not fee, 'cause you are blind?
Methinks a friend at night should cheer you,
A friend that loves to fee and hear you.

* Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Why am I robb'd of that delight,

When you can be no loser by't?

Nay, when 'tis plain (for what is plainer?)
That, if you heard, you'd be no gainer?
For fure you are not yet to learn,
That hearing is not your concern.
Then be your doors no longer barr'd:
Your business, fir, is to be heard.

TH

HE wife pretend to make it clear,
'Tis no great loss to lose an ear.
Why are we then fo fond of two,
When by experience one would do?

'Tis true, fay they, cut off the head,
And there's an end; the man is dead;
Becaufe, among all human race,
None e'er was known to have a brace:
But confidently they maintain,

That where we find the members twain,
The lofs of one is no fuch trouble,
Since t'other will in ftrength be double.
The limb furviving, you may fwear,

Becomes his brother's lawful heir:
Thus, for a trial, let me beg of
Your reverence but to cut one leg off,

And you shall find, by this device
The other will be ftronger twice;
shall be gaining

For every day you

New vigour to the leg remaining.

Sc, when an eye has loft its brother,

You fee the better with the other.

Cut