Imatges de pàgina
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Whofe offerings, plac'd in golden ranks,
Adorn our crystal river's banks;
Nor feldom grace the flowery downs,
With fpiral tops and copple-crowns;
Or gilding in a funny morn

The humble branches of a thorn.
So, poets fing, with ‡ golden bough
The Trojan hero paid his vow.

Hither, by lucklefs error led,
The crude confiftence oft I tread;
Here when my shoes are out of case,
Unweeting gild the tarnish'd lace ;
Here by the facred bramble ting'd,
My petticoat is doubly fring'd.

Be witness for me, nymph divine,
I never robb'd thee with defign:
Nor will the zealous Hannah*
pout
To wash thy injur'd offering out.

But stop, ambitious Muse, in time,
Nor dwell on fubjects too sublime.
In vain on lofty heels I tread,
Afpiring to exalt my head;

With hoop expanded wide and light,
In vain I 'tempt too high a flight.

Virg. lib. 6.

* My lady's woman.

Me* Phabus in a † midnight dream Accofting faid, Go fbake your cream. Be humbly minded, know your poft; Sweeten your tea, and watch your toast. Thee beft befits a lowly ftyle: Teach Dennis how to ftir the § guile: With || Peggy Dixon thoughtful fit, Contriving for the pot and fpit. Take down thy proudly fwelling fails, And rub thy teeth, and pare thy nails: At nicely carving fhew thy wit; But ne'er prefumé to eat a bit : Turn ev'ry way thy watchful eye; And ev'ry guest be fure to ply: Let never at your board be known An empty plate except your own. Be these thy arts; nor higher aim Than what befits a rural dame.

Sleek

But Cloacina, goddess bright, claims her as his right: And+ Smedley, flower of all divines, Shall fing the dean in Smedley's lines.

*Cynthius aurem velit. Hor. + Cum fomnia vera. Idem. In the bottle to make

butter.

Guile, the quantity of ale or beer brewed at one time. Mrs. Dixon, the houfc

keeper.

It Hatihi erunt artes. Virg. *+ A very ftupid, infolent, factious, deformed, conceited parfon, a vile pretender to poetry, preferred by the duke of Grafton for his wit. The

.

The Place of the DAM N'D.

ALL

Written in the Year 1731.

LL folks, who pretend to religion and grace,

Allow there's a HELL, but difpute of the place:

But if HELL may by logical rules be defin'd The place of the damn'd-I'll tell you my mind.

Wherever the damn'd do chiefly abound, Moft certainly there is HELL to be found: Damn'd poets, damn'd criticks, damn'd blockheads, damn'd knaves,

Damn'd fenators brib'd, damn'd prostitute flaves;

Damn'd lawyers and judges, damn'd lords and damn'd fquires;

Damn'd pies and informers, damn'd friends and damn'd yars;

Damn'd villains, corrupted in every station; Damn'd time-ferving priests all over the

nation.

And into the bargain I'll readily give you Damn'd ignorant prelates, and counsellors

privy.

Then

Then let us no longer by par fons be flamm'd, For we know by these marks the place of the damn'd:

And HELL to be fure is at Paris or Rome. How happy for us, that it is not at home!

A beautiful young Nymph going to Bed.*

Written for the Honour of the Fair Sex, in 1731.

COR

ORINNA, pride of Drury-lane, For whom no fhepherd fighs in vain, Never did Covent-garden boaft So bright a batter'd ftroling toaft ! No drunken rake to pick her up, No cellar, where on tick to fup; Returning at the midnight hour, Four stories climbing to her bower; Then feated on a three leg'd chair, Takes off her artificial hair. Now, picking out a crystal eye, She wipes it clean, and lays it by,

* This poem, for which feme have thought no apology could be offered, deferves on the contrary great commendation, as it much more forcibly reftrains the thoughtless and

the young from the risk of health and life by picking up a prostitute, than the finest declamation on the fordidnefs of the appetite.

Her

Her eye-brows from a moufe's hide
Stuck on with art on either fide,

Pulls off with care, and firft difplays 'em,
Then in a play-book fmoothly lays 'em.
Now dext'roufly her plumpers draws,
That ferve to fill her hollow jaws.
Untwists a wire, and from her gums
A fet of teeth completely comes.
Pulls out the rags contriv'd to prop
Her flabby dugs, and down they drop.
Proceeding on, the lovely goddess
Unlaces next her fteel-rib'd bodice,
Which, by the operator's skill,
Press down the lumps, the hollows fill.
Up goes her hand, and off the flips
The bolsters that fupply her hips.
With gentleft touch the next explores
Her fhancres, iffues, running fores;
Effects of many a fad difafter,
And then to each applies a plafter
But muft, before he goes to bed,
Rub off the daubs of white and red,
And smooth the furrows in her front
With greafy paper stuck upon't.
She takes a bolus ere fhe fleeps;
And then between two blankets creeps.

With

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