Thus for a week the farce went on; When all her country-savings gone, She fell into her former scene, Small beer, a herring, and the dean,

Thus far in jest: though now I fear, You think my jesting too severe; But poets, when a hint is new, Regard not whether false or true; Yet raillery gives no offence, Where truth has not the least pretence; Nor can be more securely plac'd Than on a nymph of Stella's taste. I must confess, your vine and vittle I was too hard Your table neat, your linen fine ; And, though in miniature, you shine: Yet when you figh to leave Wood-park, The scene, the welcome, and the spark, To languish in this odious town, And pull your haughty stomach down; We think you quite mistake the case, The virtue lies not in the place: For though my raillery were true, А cottage

is Wood-park with you,

upon a little:

A quibbling ELEGY on the worshipful

Judge Boat

Written in the Year 1723.

,

O mournful ditties, Clio, change thy

note, Since cruel fate hath funk our justice Boat. Why should he sink, where nothing seem'd

to press ? His lading little, and his ballaft less. Toft in the waves of this tempefiuous world, At length, his anchor fixt and canvas furld, To* Lazy-hill retiring from his court, At his * Ring's-end he founders in the port. Wish t water fillid he could no longer ficat, The common death of many a stronger boat. A post fo fillid on nature's laws entren

ches: Benches on boats are plac’d, not boats on

With ev'ry wind he faild, and well could

tack: Had

many pendents, but abhorr’d a * Jack. He's gone, although his friends began to

hope, That he might yet be lifted by a rope.

Behold the awfulbench, on which he fat; He was as hard and pond'rous wood as that: Yet, when his fand was out, we find at last, That death has overset him with a blast. Our Boat is now faild to the Stygian ferry, There to supply old Charon's leaky wherry: Charon in him will ferry souls to hell ; A trade our + Boat hath practis'd here fo

well: And Cerberus hath ready in his paws Both pitchand brimstone to fill up his flaws. Yet spite of death and fate, I here maintain We may place Boat in his old post again. Thę way

is thus; and well deserves your

thanks: Takethe three strongestofhis brokenplanks, Fix them on high, conspicuous to be feen, Form'd like the triple-tree near I Stephen's

And, when we view it thus with thief at

end on't, We'll cry; look, here's our Boat, and there's

the pendant.

The EP IT A P H.

HERE lies judge Boat within a coffin ; Pray, gentle-folks, forbear your

scoffing. A Boat a judge? yes; where's the blunder A wooden judge is no such wonder, And in his robes, you must agree, No Boat was better deckt than be. 'Tis needless to describe him fuller, In shorts he was an able * sculler.

A Receipt to restore Stella's Youth,

Written in the Year 1724-5.

T

*HE Scottish hinds, too poor to house

In frosty nights their starving cows, While not a blade of grass or hay Appears from Michaelmąs to May, Must let their cattle range in vain For food along the barren plain. * Query, Whether the aụthor meant scholar, and wilfully

Meagre

mistook.

Meagre and lank with fafting grown,
And nothing left but skin and bone;
Expos’d to want, and wind, and weather,
They just keep life and soul together,
'Till summer show'rs and evening's dew
Again the verdant glebe renew;
And as the vegetables rise,
The familh'd cow her want supplies :
Without an ounce of last year's flesh:
Whate’er she gains is young and fresh ;
Grows plumpand round, and full of mettle,
As rising from Medea's kettle,
With youth and beauty to enchant
Europa's counterfeit gallant *.

Why, Stella, should you knit your brow,
If I compare you to the cow?
'Tis just the case; for you have fasted
So long, till all your flesh is wasted,
And must against the warmer days
Be sent to + Quilca down to graze!
Where mirch, and exercise, and air,
Will soon your appetite repair :
The nutriment will from within
Round all your body plump your skin;