Then, if hard dealt with here by fate,
We ballance in another state,

And consciousness muft go along,

And fign th' acquittance for the wrong.

He for his creatures muft decree

More happiness than misery,

Or be supposed to create,
Curious to try, what 'tis to hate:
And do an act, which rage infers,
'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.
Thus, thus I fteer my bark, and fail

On even keel with gentle gale;
At helm I make my reafon fit,
My crew of paffions all fubmit.

If dark and bluft'ring prove fome nights,

To fee what dangers may be hid:
And once in seven years I'm feen

At Bath or Tunbridge, to careen.

Though pleas'd to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way,

1

With ftore fufficient for relief,
And wifely still prepar'd to reef,
Nor wanting the difperfive bowl
Of cloudy weather in the foul,
I make (may heav'n propitious fend
Such wind and weather to the end)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,
Life's voyage to the world unknown.

*****

****

An EPIGRAM,

On the Reverend Mr. LAURENCE ECHARD's, and

Bishop GILBERT BURNET'S Hiftories.

G

By the Same.

IL's hiftory appears to me

Political anatomy,

A case of skeletons well done,

And malefactors every one.

His sharp and strong incision pen

Historically cuts up men,

And

And does with lucid skill impart
Their inward ails of head and heart.
LAURENCE proceeds another way,
And well-drefs'd figures doth difplay:
His characters are all in flesh,

Their hands are fair, their faces fresh;
And from his sweet'ning art derive
A better scent than when alive.

He wax-work made to please the fons,
Whose fathers were GIL's skeletons.

II.

The feather'd play-thing fhe carefs'd,
She ftroak'd its head and wings;
And while it neftled on her breast,

She lifp'd the dearest things.
III.

With chizzled bill a spark ill fet

He loofen'd from the reft,

And swallow'd down to grind his meat,'

The easier to digeft.

IV.

She feiz'd his bill with wild affright,

Her diamond to defcry:

'Twas gone! fhe ficken'd at the fight,

Moaning her bird would die.

·V.

The tongue-ty'd knocker none might use,

The curtains none undraw,

The footmen went without their fhoes,

The street was laid with ftraw.

VI.

The doctor us'd his oily art

Of strong emetic kind,

The apothecary play'd his part,

And engineer'd behind.

VII. When

VII.

When phyfic ceas'd to spend its store
To bring away the stone,

Dicky, like people given o'er,

Picks up, when let alone.
VIII.

His eyes difpell'd their fickly dews,
He peck'd behind his wing;
Lucia recovering at the news,

Relapses for the ring.

IX.

Mean-while within her beauteous breaft

Two different paffions strove;

When av'rice ended the contest,

And triumph'd over love,
X.

Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing,

Thy pains the fex display,

Who only to repair a ring

Drive av'rice from your breafts, ye fair,

Monster of fouleft mien :

Ye would not let it harbour there

Could but its form be seen.

XII. It