STELLA'S BIRTH-DAY.

A great Bottle of Wine, long buried, being that Day dug up.

R

Written about the YEAR 1722.

ESOLV'D my annual Verse to pay,

By Duty bound, on Stella's Day;
Furnish'd with Paper, Pens, and Ink,
I gravely fat me down to think:

I bit my Nails, and scratch'd my Head,
But found my Wit and Fancy fled:
Or, if with more than ufual Pain,
A Thought came flowly from my Brain,
It coft me Lord knows how much Time
To shape it into Senfe and Rhyme:
And, what was yet a greater Curse,
Long-thinking made my Fancy worse.

FOR

FORSAKEN by th' inspiring Nine,
I waited at Apollo's Shrine;

I told him what the World would fay
If Stella were unfung To-day;

How I should hide my Head for Shame,
When both the Facks and Robin came;
How Ford would frown, how Jim would feer;
How Sh-n the Rogue would fneer:
And swear it does not always follow,
That Semel'n anno ridet Apollo,

I have affur'd them Twenty Times,
That Phebus help'd me in my Rhymes ;
Phabus infpir'd me from above,

And He and I were Hand and Glove.
But finding me fo dull and dry fince,
They'll call it all poetick Licence:
And when I brag of Aid Divine,
Think Eufden's Right as good as mine.

Nor do I ask for Stella's Sake;

Tis

my own Credit lies at Stake. And Stella will be sung, while I Can only be a Stander-by.

APOL

APOLLO, having thought a little, Return'd this Answer to a Tittle.

THOUGH you should live like old Methusalem, I furnish Hints, and you should use all 'em; You yearly fing as the grows old, You'd leave her Virtues half untold. But to fay Truth, fuch Dulnefs reigns Through the whole Set of fri Deans;

!

I'm daily stunn'd with fuch a Medley,
Dean W-d, Dean D-7, and Dean
That, let what Dean; soever come,
My Orders are, I'm not at Home;
And if your Voice had not been loud,
You must have pafs'd among the Crowd.

3

But now, your Danger to prevent,

You must apply to † Mrs. Brent.
For fhe, as Prieftefs, knows the Rites
Wherein the God of Earth delights.
First, nine Ways looking, let her stand
With an old Poker in her Hand;
Let her defcribe a Circle round..

İn * Saunder's Cellar on the Ground

a

orbia LA Smedly,

VOL. II.

M

A Spade

↑ The Housekeeper.

The Butler!

A Spade let prudent Archy hold,
And with Discretion dig the Mould :
Let Stella look with watchful Eye,
Rebecca, Ford, and † Grattans by.

BEHOLD the BOTTLE, where it lies
With Neck elated tow'rds the Skies!
The God of Winds and God of Fire,
Did to it's wond'rous Birth confpire;
And Bacchus, for the Poet's Use,
Pour'd in a ftrong infpiring Juice:
See! as you raise it from its Tomb,
It drags behind a spacious Womb,
And in the fpacious Womb contains
A fov'reign Medicine for the Brains.

YOU'LL find it foon if Fate confents;
If not, a Thousand Mrs. Brents,
Ten Thousand Archys arm'd with Spades,
May dig in vain to Pluto's Shades.

FROM thence a plenteous Draught infufe,

And boldly then invoke the Mufe:

The Footman. † A Lady; Friend to Stella.

(But

(But first let * Robert, on his Knees,
With Caution drain it from the Lees)
The Mufe will at your Call appear,
With Stella's Praife to crown the Year.

† The Valet.

MART the Cook-Maid's

LETTER

TO

Doctor SHERIDAN.

WEL

ELL; if ever I faw fuch another Man fince my Mother bound my Head,

You a Gentleman! marry come up, I wonder where you were bred?

I am fure fuch Words does not become a Man of your Cloth,

I would not give fuch Language to a Dog, faith

and troth,

Mi

Yes,