Thus our trials, at a distance, Wisdom's fcierce promife aid; Yet, in need of their affistance, We attempt to grasp a fhade.

ས་བ

92

COME lift to me, ye gay and free,
And ye whom cares moleft,
War, wine, and love but tend to prove,
That Second Thoughts are beft.

The queen of charms, the god of arms,
Gay Bacchus, and the reft,

When afk'd, ne'er flounce, yet all pronounce
That Second Thoughts are beft.
The jealous boy, if Daphne's coy,
'Gainft Cupid will proteft,

His nymph difdain, then think again ;
For Second Thoughts are beft.
The fair one too, anus'd to woo,
Drives Strephon from her breast,”
Then feeks the elf, makes love herself,
For Second Thoughts are best.

And Mars who doats on fcarlet coats,
I'm fure will stand the teft,
Nor frown on her who dares aver,
That Second Thoughts are beft.
Ev'n Neptune too, our fleet in view,
Kept Gallia's fleet in Breft;
They meant to fight, he put them right;
Their Second Thoughts were beft.
Again! but mark the tippling fpark,.
When feated as a guest,
At first refign his darling wine,
But Second Thoughts are best.

And you, I fee, will fide with me,

Some louder than the rest,

Wil cry, no more" and then "encore!" But Second Thoughts are best.

93 - Co

The obdurate fair one awhile was fo coy,
That all her reply was, Pardonnezmoy.

In vain he intreated, implor'd, and carefa'd,
Of all his pretenfions fhe made but a jeft;
Tho' his life he declar'd her difdain would defroy,
Yet regardless fhe answer'd him Fardonnezmey.

But finding his fighs no impreffion could make,
He determin'd another expedient to take;
And artifice now he refolves to employ,
To make her forget to fay, Pardonnezmy.
He fwore that her eyes like bright Phæbus did shine,
That her air was majeftic, her form all divine;
With fuch fond delufions he purchas'd the toy,
And flatt'ry prevail'd over Pardonnezmoy.

94

AND did you not hear of a jolly young waterman
Who at Black friars bridge us'd for to ply?
He feather'd his oars with fuch skill and dexterity,
Winning each heart and delighting each eye:
He look'd fo neat and row'd fo steadily,
The maidens all flock'd in his boat fo readily, [air,
And he eyed the young rogues with fo charming an
That this waterman ne'er was in want of a fare.

What fights of fine folks he oft row'd in his wheny
'Twas clean'd out fo nice and fo painted with!
He was always first oars, wheh the fine city ladies,
In a party to Ranelagh went, or Vauxhall.
And oftentimes would they be giggling and leeting
But 'twas all one to Tom their jibing and jeering,
For loving or liking he little did care,

As this waterman ne'er was in want of a fare. And yet, but to fee how ftrangely things happen, As he row'd along, thinking of nothing at all, He was ply'd by a damfel fo lovely and charming That the fmil'd, & fo ftraitway in love he did f And would this young damfel but banish his for He'd wed her to night before it was morrow: And how should this waterman ever know es

repeated his pallion again and again ;

- 95

AT Totterdoron bill there dwelt an old pair,
And it may be they dwell there fill,
Much riches indeed didn't fall to their share,
They kept a small farm and a mill;
But fully contented with what they did get,
They knew not of guile or of arts;

One daughter they had, and her name it was Bet.
And he was the pride of their hearts.

Nut brown were her locks, her shape it was ftrait,
[gait
Her eyes were as black as a floe;
Her teeth were milk white, full fmart was her
And neck was her skin as a doe;

All thick were the clouds, and the rain it did pour
No bit of true blue could be fpy'd,

.

A child, wet and cold, came and knock'd at the door
Its mam it had loft, and it cry'd.

Young Bet was as mild as the mornings of May,
The babe the hugg'd clofe to her breaft;
She chaf'd him all over, he fmil'd as he lay,
She kifs'd him and lull'd him to reft;
But who do you think he had got for her prize,
Why Love, the fly mafter of aris;

No fooner he wak'd, but he dropp'd his difguife,
And fhew'd her his wings, and his darts.
Quoth he, I am Love, but yet be not afraid,

Tho' all I make shake at my will,

So good, and fo kind, have you been, my fair maid,
No harm fhall you feel from my skill;
My mother ne'er dealt with fuck fondness by me,
A friend you fhall find in me fill,

Take my quiver and fhoot, be greater than fhe,
The Venus of Totterdown bill.

Since no tell-tale spy is near us,
Eye nor fees, nor ear can hear us,
Who would not be kifs'd?

Celia, hearing what he said,
Gently lifted up her head,

Her breaft foft withes fill:
Since, the cried, no fpy is near us,
Eye nor feet, nor ear can hear us,
Kifs-or what you will.
- 97

As t'other day young Damon came,

Where Chloe fat demure,

He figh'd and gaz'd to own his flame,
For love had struck him fare,
His aukward mien amaz'd the fair,
Which he no doubt feem'd fhy at;
And when he prais'd her shape and air,
She anfwer'd, Swain, be quiet.

My dear, he cry'd, O! be not coy,
Nor deem my meaning rude;
Let love like mine thy mind employ,
True love can ne'er intrude.
Her hand he then effay'd to kifs,

Which, frowning, the cry'd fye at; And when he struggled for the blifs, 'Twas be a little quiet.

The fwain perceiv'd her alter'd tone,
And boldly grafp'd her hand;
The nymph was forc'd to own the flame,
And join'd in Hymen's band,
Alas! how chang's each wedded pair!
The power of words they try at ;
Now Damon has not one to fpare,
But, Pray, dear wife, be quiet.

98
COME liften, and laugh at the times,
Since folly was never fo ripe,
For ev'ry man laughs at thofe rhimes
That give his own follies a wipe :
We live in a kind of disguise;

We fatter, we lye and proteft,
While each of us artfully tries,
On others to fasten the jeft,

LI

The virgin, when fir she is woo'd, Returns ev'ry figh with difdain; And while by her lover purfu'd,

Can laugh at her folly ard pain: But when from her innocence won.

And doom'd for her virtue to mourn, When the finds herself loft and undone, He laughs (though unjust) in his turn. The fools who at law do contend,

Can laugh at each other's distress, And while the dire fuit does depend,

Ne'er think how their fubftance grows lefs; Till hamper'd by tedious expence,

Altho' to compound they are loth, They'll find, when reftor'd to their fenfe, The lawyers fit laughing at both.

But while we perceive it the fashion.

For each fool to laugh at the other, Let us ftrive, with a gen'rous compaffion,

To correct, not contemn, one another. We all have fome follies to hide,

Which, known, would dishonour the best; And life, when 'tis thoroughly tried,

Like friendship, will seem but a jeft.

-99.

THOU fof flowing Avon! by thy filver ftream,
Offubje&simmortal thy Shakspear wou'd dream;
The fairies by moonlight dance round his green bed
For hallow'd the turf is that pillows his head.
Here (wains shall be fam'd for their love & their truth
And cheerful old age feel the tranfports of youth;
For the raptures of fancy here poets hall tread,
For hallow'd the turf is that pillows his head.
The love-ftricken maiden, the fighing young (wain
Here rove without danger and toy without pain;-
The fweet bud of beauty no blight fhall here.dread,
For hallow'd the turf is that pillows his head.
Flow on, filver Avon, in long ever flow,

Be the fwans on thy bofom still whiter than fnow,
Ever full be thy ftream like his fame may it spread
And the turf ever hallow'd that pillows his head.

100

VIRGINS are like the fair flower in its luffre,

Which in the garden enamels the ground; Near it the bees in play flutter and cluster,

And gaudy butterflies frolic around.
But when once pluck'd, tis no longer alluring,
To Covent-garden 'tis fent, as yet fweet;
There fades and shrinks, and grows paft áll enduring
Rots, ftinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.
WHEN lovely woman ftoops to folly,

And finds, too late, that men betray;
What charms can foothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away ?
The only art,, her guilt to cover,
To hide her fhame from ev'ry eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bofom-is to die!
102

BLOW, blow, thou winter's wind,

Thou art not fo unkind,
Thou art not fo unkind,

As man's ingratitude:
Thy tooth is net fo keen,
Becaufe thou art not feen,
Altho thy breath be ruce,
Altho' thy breath be rude.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite fo nigh,
Thou doft not bite fo nigh,

As benefits forgot;
Tho' thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not fo fharp,
Tho' thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not fo fharp,

As friends remember'd not,
As friends remember'd not.

W
103.
HEN bick rings hot,
To high words got,
Break out at gamiorum ;

The

104

THE card invites, in crouds we fly,
To join the jovial routful cry;

What joy-from cares and plagues all day,
To hie to the midnight Haik-away!
Nr want, nor pain, nor griefs, nor care,
Nor dronith husbands enter there;
The brifk, the bold, the young, the gay,
All hie to the midnight Hark away.
Uncounted frikes the morning clock,
And drowsy watchmen icly knock
"Till day light peeps, we fport and play,
And roar to the jolly Hark away.
When tir'd with sport to bed we creep,
And kill the tedious day with fleep,
To morrow's welcome call obey,
And again to the midnight Hark away.
105

THE pride of all nature was fweet Willy O, The price of all nature was fweet Willy ✪, The first of all fwains,

He gladden'd the plains,

one ever was like to the fweet Willy 0.
le fung it fo rarely, did fweet Willy O,
e fung it fo rarely, &c.

He melted each maid,

So filful he play'd,

o fhepherd e'er pip'd like the sweet Willy O

l nature obey's him, the fweet Willy 0,

li nature obey

him, &c.

Wherever he came,

Whate'er had a name,

hene'er he fung, follow'd the fweet Willy O.

Fair maid, he cry'd, cou'd you approve
An artless shepherd's honeft love,
Yon little farm,-yon flocks are mine,
Al, with their mafter's heart, is thine,
Then begg'd fhe wou'd his flame allow,
She anfwer'd, the maft milk her cow.
Not fo repuls'd, the comely youth,
With kiffes, prayers, and vows of truth,
So pleas'd the nymph, she fmil`d consent,
And to the church they inftant went ;
His flame he did not difallow,
But quite forgot to milk her cow.

OONS

112

! neighbour, ne'er blush for a trifle like this
What harm with a fair one to toy and to kiss?
The greatest and graveft (a truce with grimace)
Would dothe fame thing were they in the fame place
No age, no profeffion, no nation is free;
To fovereign beauty mankind bends the knee:
That power, refiftlefs, no ftrength can oppofe
We all love a pretty girl-under the tofe.
113 -

FAREWELL, the fmoaky town, adieu
Each rude and fenfual joy;
Gay, fleeting pleafures, all untrue,
That in poffeffion cloy.

Far from the garnish'd fcene I'll fly,
Where folly keeps her court,
To wholefome, found philofophy,
And harmless rural sport.

How happy is the humble cell,

How bleft the deep retreat,
Where forrows billows never fwell,
Nor paffion's tempefts beat!
But fafely thro' the fea of life,
Calm reafon wafts us o'er,
Free from ambition, noife, and ftrife,
To death's eternal fhore.