A Suit which his Client does wear out in Slavery,

Whilft the Pleader makes Confcience a Cloak for his

Knavery;

Can boast of his Cunning but in the Prefent Tenfe,
For non eft Inventus, an Hundred Years hence.

3qli

Then, why should we turmoil in Cares and in Fears,
And turn our Repofe into Sighing and Tears?

Let us eat, drink and play, e'er the Worms do corrupt

us,

For I fay thats Poft Martem eft nulla Voluptas.

Let us, deal with our Damfels, that we may from thence Have Broods to fucceed us an Hundred Years hence,

Your Dreams of a Blifs when you're cold as a Stone;
The Sages may call us, Drunkards, Gluttons and Wen-

But we find fuch Morfels upon their own. Trenchers;
Poor Abigal, Hannah, and Sifter Prudence,

Will Simper to Nothing an Hundred Years hence.

3

The ignorant Quack, who, his Fees to inlarge, fod ar y
Kills People with License, and at their own Charge,
Who heaps up a Mafs of ill-gotten Wealth,

From the Dregs of the Pisspot, and Ruins of Health;
Tho' Treasures of Health he pretends to difpence,

Shall be turn'd into Mummy an Hundred Years hence, 2-
Car stood as a bаA

IX.

The Butterfly Courtier, that Pageant of State,':

The Moufetrap of Honour, and Maygame of Fate,

With all his Ambition, Intrigues, and his Tricks,
Muft die like a Clown, and drop into Styx,

His Plots against Death are too flender a Fence,
He'll be quite out of Fashion an Hundred Years hence,

The Poet himself, that fo loftily Sings,

As he scorns any Subject but Hero's and KINGS,
Muft to the Caprices of Fortune fubmit,

And be counted a Fool, tho' a Master of Wit;

Thus Beauty, Wit, Wealth, Law, Learning and Senfe, Will all come to Nothing an Hundred Years hence.

ΟΝ

On a Young LADY's Playing on a LUTE.

UCH moving Sounds from fuch a careless Touch,

SUCH

So little mov'd her felf, and we fo much;

What Art is this, that with fo little Pains,
Transports us thus, and o'er our Spirits reigns?
The trembling Strings about her Fingers crowd,
And tell their Joy for ev'ry Kifs aloud;

Small Force there needs to make them tremble fo,
Touch'd by that Hand, who would not tremble too?

From a LOVER to his MISTRESS, who was afraid to Marry.

W

HY dread you, MADAM, thus the only State,
Which GOD ordain'd to make his Gift com
plete?

Obey! a Word of Form, and nothing more,
There's ftronger Magick in the word Adore;

Worship,

Worship, I mean, which is the self same thing,
To Worship you, we our whole Bodies bring;
When JovE, with fervent Zeal we fupplicate,
To beg a Bleffing from his heav'nly Seat,
If we obtain, then he without Difpute,
Obeys our Call, when e'er he grants our Suit:
For by the word Obey, indeed, is meant,

Juft neither more or lefs than bare Confent;
And fuch Obedience we expect from you,
Whilft we are kind, you, doubtless, will be true,
What Tyrant can refift á W O'MAN'S Charms,
That knows to move, and mould him in her Arms?
One balmy Kiss melts all his Rage away,

And makes this Lord of all the World, Obey.
Yield then, my CHARMER, caft your Fears afide,
Forget the Virgin, and affume the Bride;

The Joys of Wedlock are fo fweet, fo vaft,
That Heav'n referv'd that Cordial for the last;
When GOD o'er all had made us MEN the Head,
To make our Blifs, complete, he bad us Wed T
TO WOMEN he this Benefit allows, wr
Each is by Pleasure brib'd to please her Spouse;
Yet more in their behalf, to end all Strife,'

A MAN forfakes his Mother for his Wife.

On

WIFT as his Fame, o'er all the World he
daraflies,us Mroa ush

Follow'd by Friends, as fhun'd by Enemy's: {'
Tho' they who follow him, muft undergo

Hazards as great, as meeting him his Foe;

His Trumpets, like the laft, give Joy and Dread,
Give fear to Foes, and raife Friends Spirits dead;A
But his Great HEART, which ne'er himself will spare,
Makes Friends no less then Enemy's to fear;

City's he vanquish'd in as fhort a Space,

As other Princes vifit them in Peace;

Whofe Walls and Trenches could no more enfure

Safety to them, than Dread in Him procure:

Whom