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And in thy bosom lurks in Thought's disguise ; Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wise!
Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,
The only honour of the wishing dame; Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of Fame.
X. But couldst thou seize some tongues that now are free,
How Church and State should be oblig'd to thee !
From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause: Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy Laws.
What Favourites gain, and what the Nation owes, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.
The courtier's learning, policy o'th' gown,
Lord's quibble, crític's jest ; all end in thee,
E. OF DORSET.
A R T E MISI A.
: Of councils, classics, fathers, wits; Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke: Yet in some things methinks he fails, 'Twere well if she would pair her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Are oddly join’d by fate :
That lies and stinks in state.
She wears no colours (sign of grace)
All white and black befide :
And masculine her stride.
So have I seen, in black and white
All Autter, pride, and talk.
Ρ Η R Υ Ν Ε.
HRYNE had talents for mankind, P!
Open she was, and unconfin’d,
Here first their entry made.
Spaniards or French came to her :
'Twas S'il vous plaist, Monsieur. Obscure by birth, renown’d by crimes, Still changing names, religion, climes,
At length she turns a Bride :
And flutters in her pride.
Still vary shapes and dyes;
Then painted butterflies.
The Happy Life of a COUNTRY PARSON. PARSON, these things in thy poffefling
Are better than the Bishop's blessing. A Wife that makes conserves; a Steed That carries double when there's need : October store, and best Virginia,
5 Tythe-Pig, and mortuary Guinea : Gazettes fent gratis down, and frank’d, For which thy Patron's weekly thank’d; A large Concordance, bound long finee; Sermons to Charles the First, when Prince : A Chronicle of ancient standing; A Chrysostom to smooth thy band in. The Polyglott-three parts,-my text, Howbeit,– likewise-Dow to my next. Lo here the Septuagint,--and Paul,
IS To sum the whole,- the clofe of all.
He that has these, may pass his life,
A FAREWELL TO LONDON
IN THE YEAR 1715.
k and you
farewell! Thy fools no more I'll teize :
peace, ye critics, dwell, Ye harlots, sleep at ease ! Soft B - and rough C -- adieu!
Earl Warwick make your moan,
May knock up whores alone.
Till the third watchman toll;
Save three-pence and his soul.
Although he knows it not.
Farewel, unhappy Tonson !
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.
My vixen mistress squalls;
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