Yet I may fay 'twixt me and you,

Pray God they now may find as true.

Marble-H My Houfe was built but for a Show, My Lady's empty Pockets know :

And now she will not have a Shilling
To raise the Stairs, or build the Cieling;
For, all the Courtly Madams round,
Now pay four Shillings in the Pound.
'Tis come to what I always thought;
My Dame is hardly worth a Groat.
Had You and I been Courtiers born,
We should not thus have layn forlorn;
For, those we dext'rous Courtiers call,
Can rife upon their Mafter's Fall.
Eut, we unlucky and unwife,

Muft fall, because our Masters rise.

Richmond L. My Mafter fcarce a Fortnight fince,

Was grown as wealthy as a Prince;

But now it will be no fuch thing,

For he'll be poor as any King:

And, by his Crown will nothing get;

But, like a King, to run in Debt.

Marble-H. No more the Dean, that grave Divine,

Shall keep the Key of my (no) Wine;

My

My Ice-house rob as heretofore,
And steal my Artichokes no more;
Poor Patty Blount no more be seen
Bedraggled in my Walks fo green;
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope;
And here no more will dangle Pope.

Richmond-L. Here wont the Dean when he's to feek,

To fpunge a Breakfast once a Week;
To cry the Bread was ftale, and mutter
Complaints against the Royal Butter.
But, now I fear it will be said,
No Butter fticks upon his Bread.
We foon shall find him full of Spleen,
For want of tattling to the Queen ;
Stunning her Royal Ears with talking;
His Rev'rence and her Highness walking?
Whilft Lady Charlotte, like a Stroller,

*

Sits mounted on the Garden Roller.

A goodly Sight to fee her ride,

With antient † Mirmont at her Side.

*Lady Charlotte de Rouffy, a French Lady. Marquis de Mirmont, a French Man of Quality.

โท

In Velvet Cap his Head lies warm;

His Hat for Show, beneath his Arm.

Marble-H. Some South Sea Broker from the

City,

Will purchase me, the more's the Pity,
Lay all my fine Plantations wafte,
To fit them to his vulgar Taste;
Chang'd for the worse in ev'ry Part,

My Mafter Pope will break his Heart.

Richmond-L. In my own Thames may I be

drownded,

If e'er I ftoop beneath a crown'd Head:
Except her Majesty prevails

To place me with the Prince of Wales,
And then I fhall be free from Fears,
For, he'll be Prince these fifty Years,
I then will turn a Courtier too,
And ferve the Times as others do.
Plain Loyalty not built on Hope,

I leave to your Contriver, Pope:
None loves his King and Country better,

Yet none was ever lefs their Debtor.

Marble-H. Then, let him come and take a Nap,

In Summer, on my verdant Lap:

Prefer

Prefer our Villaes where the Thames is,
To Kenfington, or hot St. James's;

Nor fhall I dull in Silence fit;
For, 'tis to me he owes his Wit;
My Groves, my Ecchoes, and my Birds,
Have taught him his poetick Words.
We Gardens, and you Wilderneffes,
Affift all Poets in Diftreffes.

Him twice a Week I here expect,
To rattle * Moody for Negle&;

An idle Rogue,, who spends his Quartridge
In tipling at the Dog and Partridge;

And I can hardly get him down

Three times a Week to brush my Gown.

Richmond-Lodge. I pity you, dear Marble-Hill;

But, hope to see you flourish still.

All Happiness and so adieu.

Marble-Hill. Kind Richmond-Lodge; the fame

to you.

*The Gardener.

ON

On the five Ladies at Sots-Hole, with the Doctor at their Head.

The Ladies treated the Doctor.

Sent as from an Officer in the Army.
Written in the Year 1728.

AIR Ladies, Number five,

FA

Who in your merry Freaks,

With little Tom contrive

To feaft on Ale and Steaks.

While he fits by a grinning,

Set

To fee you fafe in * Sots-Hole,

up with greasy Linnen,

And neither Muggs nor Pots whole. Alas! I never thought

A Prieft would pleafe your Palate; Befides, I'll hold a Groat,

He'll put you in a Ballad :

Where I fhall fee your Faces

On Paper daub'd fo foul, They'll be no more like Graces, Than Venus like an Owl.

And we shall take you rather

To be a Midnight Pack

Of Witches met together,

With Belzebub in Black.

A famous Ale-boufe in Dublin for Beef-takes.