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When as my

My goodly Stock, e'er yet they tafted Food,
By cross-grain’d Hinds were driv’n from their

Tho' lest bad Neighbours might have ow'd me

I fore-hand taid a House to give me Right,
With bonny Susan where I hop'd to dwell,
But now I prove that Proverb on mysell*,
Which says, that one Grief brings another on,
Too sure, alas! and mine will ne'er have done,
For Sufan, whom I thought my Sweetheart true,


came 'gan look askue;
And what than all beside my Heart most pains,
For landed Roger, now my Love disdains,
Roger not to be nam'd with me, I trow,
More than Muckmidden + vile, with Barley

But Roger has a House in yonder Lane,
And my fad Loss proves ev'ry Way his Gain;
Yet wilt thou, Sufan? wilt thou, felfith Lass !
For Sake of fordid Wealth, thy Love debase ?
No, do not think Content is in mich Store,
But be to Robin kind, as heretofore,
And we'll in Love be bless'd, tho' Snaith

Marsh be no more.
Alas! will Roger e'er his Sleep forego?
Afore Larks fing, or early Cock’gin crow,
As I've for thee, ungrateful Maiden, done,
To help thee milking, e'er Day-wark begun,


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* Self.

+ Dunghill,


And when thy well-stript Kye * would yield

no more, Still on my Head the reeking + Kit I bore. And, oh! bethink thee, then, what lovesome

Talk, We've held together ganging down the Balk I, Maundring $ at Time which wou'd na|| for us

stay, But now, I ween, mais no such Haste away. . Yet, O! return eftsoon **, and ease my Woe, And to some distant Parish let us go, And there again them leetsome ft Days re

2 store, Where unassail'd by meety ff Folk in Pow'r, Our Cattle yet may feed, tho' Snaith Marsh

be no more. But wae is me, I wot, I fand $$ am grown, Forgetting Susan is already gone, And Roger aims ||| e'er Lady-day to wed, The Bands last Sunday in the Church were bid; But let me, let me, first i’th' Churchyard lig, For soon I there must gang, my Grief's so big. All others in their Loss some Comfort find, Tho' Ned's like me reduc'd, yet Jenny's kind,

|| Not.

* Cow.

+ Pail. | A Land in the Field for Foot. Paths and Carriages,

f Finding Fault. Makes. ** An old Word for very soon. tt Lightsome or


11 Mighty Men. $$ Foolish or kupid. || Intends, 9 Be laid.


And tho' his Fleece no more our Parson takes, And roast Goose dainty Food, his Table lacks, Yet he for Tythes ill-paid, gets better Land, While I am ev'ry Way o'th' lofing Hand : My Adlings * war'd, and yet my Rent to pay, My Geese, like Sufan's Faith, flown far away, My Cattle, like their Master, lank and poor, My Heart with hopeless Love to Pieces tore, And all these Sorrows came, fyne Snaith

Marsh was no more.

* Earnings.

The BROCADED Gown and




IROM a fine Lady to her Maid,

A Gown descended of Brocade,
French ? -_Yes from Paris-that's enough,
That wou'd give Dignity to Stuff.
By Accident, or by Design,
Or from some Cause, I can't divine,
A Linen Rag (fad Source of Wrangling!)
On a contiguous Peg was dangling,
Vilely besmear'd--for late its Master
It serv'd in Quality of Plaister.


• Instant away

The Gown, contemptuous Beholder,
Gave a French Shrug from either Shoulder,
And rustling with Emotion furious,
Bespoke the Rag in Terms injurious :

46 Unfit for Tinder, Lint, or Fodder,
“ Thou Thing of Filth, and (what is odder)
6 Discarded from thy Owner's Issue,
" Dare you approach Brocade and Tissue?

or in this Place
Be gar me give you Coup de Grace.

To this reply'd the honest Rag,
Who likes a Jest, and was a Wag,
• Tho' thy glib Tongue without an Halt run,
• Thou shabby, second-hand, Subaltern,
" At once so antient and so easy,
* At once so gorgeous and so greasy,
• I value not your gasconading,
« Nor all your A-la-mode parading.
< But to abstain from Words imperious,
* And to be sober, grave, and serious,

(Tho', says Friend Horace, 'tis no Treason

At once to giggle, and to Reason)
+ When me you lefsen, Friend, you dream,
6 For know I am not what I feem.

Soon by the Mill's refining Motion,
« The sweetest Daughter of the Ocean,
• Fair Medway shall with snowy Hue,

My Virgin Purity renew,
• And give me re-inform’d Existence,
" A good Retention and Subsistence.


. Then

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« Then shall the Sons of Genius join
• To make my second Life divine.
• O Murray, let me then dispense,
6 Some Portion of thy Eloquence ;
* For Greek and Roman Rhetoric shine,
• United and improv'd in thine.
• The spirit-stirring * Sage alarms,
5 And Ciceronian Sweetness charms.
« Th’ Athenian Akenside may deign,
• To stamp me deathless with his Pen,
( While flows, approv'd by all the Nine,
• Th’immortal Soul of ev'ry Line.

Perhaps, ev'n all-accomplish'd Gray, May grace me with a Doric Lay, « With sweet, with manly Words of Woe, - That nervously pathetic flow. • What, Mafon, may I owe to you, • Learning's first Pride, and Nature's too : « On thee she cast her sweetest Smile,

And gave thee Art's correcting file ;
That File, which with assiduous Pain,
The Viper Envy bites in vain.
Such Glories

Lot betide; Hear, tawdry Fool, and check thy Pride. • Thou, after scouring, dying, turning,

(If haply you escape a Burning)

From Gown to Petticoat descending, • And in a Beggar's Mantle ending,

my mean

* Demofi benes.

< Shalt

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