BEAUTY and Wit, too fad a Truth,
Have always been confin'd to Youth;
The God of Wit, and Beauty's Queen,
He Twenty-one, and fhe Fifteen :
No Poet ever sweetly fung,
Unless he were like Phæbus, young;
Nor ever Nymph infpir'd to rhyme,
Unless like Venus, in her Prime.
At Fifty-fix, if this be true,
Am I a Poet fit for you?
Or at the Age of Forty-three
Are you a Subject fit for me?
Adieu bright Wit, and radiant Eyes;
You must be grave, and I be wife.
Our Fate in vain we would oppose,
But I'll be still your Friend in Profe;
Esteem and Friendship to express,
Will not require Poetick Dress;
And if the Mufe deny her Aid
To have them fung, they may be Jaid.
BUT, Stella fay, what evil Tongue
Reports you are no longer young?
That Time fits with his Scythe to mow,
Where erft fate Cupid with his Bow;
That half your Locks are turn'd to gray:
I'll ne'er believe a Word they say.
'Tis true, but let it not be known,
My Eyes are fomewhat dimmifh grown:
For Nature, always in the Right,
To your Decays adapts my Sight;
And Wrinkles undiftinguifh'd pass,
For I'm afham'd to use a Glass ;
And, 'till I fee them with these Eyes,
Whoever fays you have them, lyes.
No Length of Time can make you quit,
Honour and Virtue, Senfe and Wit;
Thus you may still be young to me,
While I can better bear than fee:
Oh, ne'er may Fortune fhew her Spight,
To make me deaf, and mend my Sight.
A quiet LIFE, and a good NAME.
To a FRIEND who married a SHREW.
Written about the Year 1724.
TELL fcolded in fo loud a Din,
That Will durft hardly venture in:
He mark'd the Conjugal Difpute;
Nell roar'd inceffant, Dick fat mute :
But, when he faw his Friend appear,
Cry'd bravely, Patience, good my Dear,
At Sight of Will the bawl'd no more,
But hurry'd out, and clapt the Door.
WHY Dick! the Devil's in thy Nell,
Quoth Will; thy House is worse than Hell:
Why, what a Peal the Jade has rung!
Damn her, why don't you flit her Tongue?
For nothing else will make it cease:
Dear Will, I fuffer this for Peace;
I never quarrel with my Wife;
I bear it for a quiet Life.
Scripture, you know, exhorts us to it;
Bids us to feek Peace and enfue it.
WILL went again to visit Dick;
And ent❜ring in the very Nick,
He faw Virago Nell belabour,
With Dick's own Staff, his peaceful Neighbour. Poor Will, who needs muft interpose,
Receiv'd a Brace or two of Blows.
BUT, now, to make my Story short
Will drew out Dick to take a Quart.
Why Dick, thy Wife has dev'lish Whims;
Od's-buds, why don't you break her Limbs?
If he were mine, and had fuch Tricks,
I'd teach her how to handle Sticks:
Z-ds, I would fhip her to Jamaica,
And truck the Carrion for Tobacco ;
I'd fend her far enough away
Dear Will; but, what would People say?
Lord! I fhould get fo ill a Name,
The Neighbours round would cry out, Shame.
DICK fuffer'd for his Peace and Credit ;
But, who believ'd him when he said it?
Can he who makes himself a Slave,
Confult his Peace, or Credit fave?
Dick found it by his ill Success,
His Quiet fmall, his Credit lefs.
She ferv'd him at the ufual Rate;
She stun'd, and then she broke his Pate.
And, what he thought the hardest Case,
The Parish jeer'd him to his Face;
Those Men who wore the Breeches least,
Call'd him a Cuckold, Fool, and Beast.
At home, he was purfu'd with Noife;
Abroad, was pefter'd by the Boys.
Within, his Wife would break his Bones,
Without, they pelted him with Stones :
The 'Prentices procur'd a Riding,
To act his Patience, and her Chiding.
FALSE Patience, and mistaken Pride! There are ten thoufand Dicks befide; Slaves to their Quiet and good Name, Are us'd like Dick, and bear the Blame.
About nine or ten Years ago, fome ingenious Gentlemen, Friends to the Author, ufed to entertain themfelves with writing Riddles, and fend them to him and their other Acquaintance; Copies of which ran about, and fome of them were printed both here and in England. The Author, at his leifure Hours, fell into the fame Amufement; although it be said, that he thought them of no great Merit, Entertainment, or Ufe. However, by the Advice of fome Perfons, for whom the Author bath a great Esteem, and who were pleased to send us the Copies, we have ventured to print the few following, as we have done two or three before, and which are allowed to be genuine; becaufe, we are informed, that feveral good Fudges have a Tafte for fuch Kind of Compofitions.
Written in the Year 1724.
N Youth exalted high in Air,
Or bathing in the Waters fair; Nature to form me took Delight, And clad my Body all in White: My Perfon tall, and flender Waist, On either Side with Fringes grac'd;
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