In history we never found
The Conful's Fafces were unbound:
Those Romans were too wife to think on't,
Except to lash fome grand delinquent.
How would they blush to hear it faid,
The Prætor broke the Conful's head!
Or Conful, in his purple gown,
Came up, and knock'd the Prætor down!
Come, Courtiers: every man his stick!
Lord Treasurer, for once be quick :
And that they may the closer cling,
Take your blue ribbon for a string.
Come, trimming Harcourt *, bring your mace;
And squeeze it in, or quit your place :
Dispatch, or else that rascal Northey †
Will undertake to do it for thee:
And be affur'd, the Court will find him
Prepar'd to leap o'er fticks, or bind them.
To make the bundle ftrong and fafe,
Great Ormond, lend thy General's staff:
And, if the Crofier could be cramm'd in,
A fig for Lechmere, King, and Hambden!
You'll then defy the strongest Whig
With both his hands to bend a twig;
Though with united strength they all pull,
From Somers, down to Craggs and Walpole.
+ Sir Edward Northey, Attorney General.
CATULLUS DE LESBIA
LESBIA for ever on me rails,
To talk of me fhe never fails.
Now, hang me but for all her art,
I find, that I have gain'd her heart.
My proof is this: I plainly fee,
The cafe is just the fame with me;
I curfe her every hour fincerely,
Yet, hang me but I love her dearly.
HO can believe with common sense,
A bacon-flice gives God offence;
Or, how a herring has a charm
Almighty vengeance to difarm?
Wrapt up in Majefty divine,
Does he regard on what we dine?
On a CURATE's Complaint of HARD DUTY.
MARCH'D three miles through scorching fand,
With zeal in heart, and notes in hand :
I rode four more to Great St. Mary,
Ufing four legs, when two were weary:
To three fair virgins I did tie men,
In the close bands of pleafing Hymen :
• Written extempore by a gentleman who was reproved by fome
of his companions for eating eggs and bacon on a fast-day.
I dipp'd two babes in holy water,
And purify'd their mother after.
Within an hour and eke a half,
I preach'd three congregations deaf;
Where thundering out, with lungs long-winded,
I chopp'd fo faft, that few there minded.
My emblem, the laborious fun,
Saw all these mighty labours done
Before one race of his was run.
All this perform'd by Robert Hewit:
What mortal elfe could e'er go through it!
Written at Windfor, 1713.
THE fhepherds and the nymphs were seen Pleading before the Cyprian Queen.
The counsel for the fair began,
Accufing the false creature Man.
The brief with weighty crimes was charg'd, 5
On which the pleader much enlarg'd;
That Cupid now has loft his art,
Or blunts the point of every dart;
His altar now no longer fmokes,
His mother's aid no youth invokes :
This tempts freethinkers to refine,
And bring in doubt their powers divine;
Now love is dwindled to intrigue,
And marriage grown a money-league;
The nymphs with fcorn beheld their foes: When the defendant's counsel rose,
And, what no lawyer ever lack'd,
With impudence own'd all the fact;
But, what the gentleft heart would vex,
Laid all the fault on t'other sex.
That modern love is no fuch thing
As what those ancient poets fing;
A fire celeftial, chafte, refin'd,
Conceiv'd and kindled in the mind
;
Which, having found an equal flame,
Unites, and both become the fame,
Indifferent breafts together burn,
Together both to ashes turn.
But women now feel no fuch fire,
And only know the grofs defire.
Their paffions move in lower fpheres,
Where'er caprice or folly fteers.
A dog, a parrot, or an ape,
Or fome worse brute in human shape,
Ingrofs the fancies of the fair,
The few foft moments they can spare,
From vifits to receive and pay;
From fcandal, politicks, and play;
From fans, and flounces, and brocades,
From equipage and park-parades,
H 2
From all the thoufand female toys,
From every trifle that employs
The out or infide of their heads,
Between their toilets and their beds.
In a dull ftream, which moving flow,
You hardly fee the current flow;
If a small breeze obftruct the course,
It whirls about, for want of force,
And in its narrow circle gathers
Nothing but chaff, and ftraws, and feathers.
The current of a female mind
Stops thus, and turns with every wind;
Thus whirling round together draws
Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and ftraws. 60
Hence we conclude, no womens hearts
Are won by virtue, wit, and parts :
Nor are the men of sense to blame,
For breafts incapable of flame;
The fault muft on the nymphs be plac'd,
Grown fo corrupted in their taste.
The pleader, having spoke his best,
|