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Why should my fhepherd take amifs,
Chloe, when on thy breaft I lie,
Confider, Strephon, what you do; For, fhall I die for love of you, I'll haunt thy dreams, a bloodless ghoft; And all my kin, a num'rous hoft, Who down direct our lineage bring Fim victors o'er the Memphian king; Menown'd in feges and campaigns, who never fled the bloody plains,
Who in tempeftuous feas can fport,
Written in the Year 1735.
EPRIV'D of root, and branch, and
Yet flow'rs I bear of ev'ry kind;
All over naked I am feen, And painted like an Indian queen. No couple-beggar in the land, E'er join'd fuch numbers hand in hand; I join them fairly with a ring; Nor can our parfon blame the thing: And, tho' no marriage words are fpoke, They part not till the ring is broke, Yet hypocrite fanaticks cry, I'm but an idol rais'd on high: And once a weaver in our town, A damn'd Cromwellian, knock'd me down. I lay a pris'ner twenty years, And then the jovial cavaliers To their old poft reftor'd all three, I mean the church, the king, and me.
VERSES on the upright fudge who condemned the Drapier's Printer.
Written in the Year 1724.
THE church I hate, and have good
For there my grandfire cut his weazon :
On the fame.
On the fame.
'M not the grandfon of that afs* Quin; Nor can you prove it, Mr. Pafquin. My grand-dame had gallants by twenties, And bore my mother by a 'prentice. This when my grandfire knew, they tell us he
In Christ-church cut his throat for jealousy. And, fince the alderman was mad you fay, Then I must be fo too, ex traduce.
A SIMILE, on our Want of Silver, and the only Way to remedy it.
Written in the Year 1725.
S when of old fome, forc'refs threw O'er the moon's face a fable hue, To drive unfeen her magic chair, At midnight through the darken'd air ; Wife people, who believ'd with reason That this eclipfe was out of feafon, Afirm'd the moon was fick, and fell To cure her by a counter-fpell. Ten thoufands cymbals now begin To rend the fkies with brazen din; The cymbals rattling founds difpel The cloud, and drive the hag to hell: The moon, deliver'd from her pain, Difplays her filver face again. (Note here, that in the chemic ftyle, The moon is fiver all this while.)
So (if my fimile you minded, Which I confefs is too long winded) When late a feminine magician Join'd with a brazen politician,
A great lady is reported to have been bribed by Wood.