Epitaphium in Amatum Canem.

INjuriofo Pede, ne proruas ftantem Columnam,

Sifte Viator, nec mirare

Summo efferri honore

Extinctum Catulum,

Ah Quantum!

Quem forma infignis, nivenfque candor,

Mores, Gratia, facilifque Lufus,

Amor, Obfequium, Fides

Delicias Domini fecere ;

Cujus lateri adhafit affiduus

Conviva, fociufque Fori,

Illo Comite;

Vis Animi Herilis delaffata,

Ingenium, mentemque novam fumebat;

Iftis pro meritis Herus non Ingratus

Marmorea in Urna mortuum

Deflens locavit,

R. M. D. F.

Thus

Thus English'd.

Injurious Foe,

No further go,

But ftay a while, nor wonder,
That little Pig

Should look as big

As Black Cap or as Thunder,
Whofe Beauty for Show,
Being whiter than Snow,

His Manners and Grace

With a ludicrous Face,

Which were the Delight of his Lord,

Whofe Faith and whofe Love,

These made him his Dove,

And Companion at Bed, and at Board.
When Piggy was by,

No Spleen could come nigh,

With no Evil my Mind was poffeft,

Now with weeping and wailing,
No Gratitude failing,

1 here do commit him to Reft.

SON G.

Shrine;

Hould I dye by the Force of good Wine,
'Tis my Will that a Tun be my
Then for the Age to come,

Engrave this Story on my Tomb:

"Here lies a Body once fo brave,
"Who with Drinking made his Grave.

Since thus to dye will purchase Fame,
And raise an Everlasting Name;

Drink, Drink away;

Drink, Drink away,

And dare to be nobly interr'd;

Let Mifers and Slaves

Sneak into their Graves,

And rot in a dirty Church-Yard.

A

COMPLIMENT

TO A

Young LADY,

Of a Beautiful Complection.

I'LL tell you how the Rofe at first grew red,
And whence the Lilly whiteness borrwed;

You blufh'd, the Rofe ftrait red'ned at the
Sight,

The Lilly kifs'd your Hand, and fo grew White.
that time, each Rofe had but a Stain;

Before th

The Lilly of its Palenefs did complain.

You have the Native Colours, they the Dye,
And triumph only in your Livery.

THE

Solid Content

O F

PHILOSOPHY

AND THE

MUSE S

O, fordid Earth, and hope not to bewitch
My high-born Soul, that foars a nobler Pitch;
Thou canst not tempt her with adult'rate
Show,

She bears no Appetite that flags fo low.

Should both the Indies fhare their Wealth to me,
And court my Eyes with Pomp and Luxury;
My better Self they never could entice,

Nor this with Gold, nor that with Orient Spice;

For