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What rob your Boys? those pretty rogues!
"No, Sir, you'll leave them to the Hogs.
Thus Fools with Compliments besiege ye,
Contriving never to oblige ye...
Scatter your Favours on a Fop,
Ingratitude's the certain crop ;
And 'tis but juft, I'll tell ye wherefore,
You give the things you never care for...
A wife man always is or fhou'd
Be mighty ready to do good;
But makes a diff'rence in his thought
Betwixt a Guinea and a Groat.

Now this I'll fay, you'll find in me
A fafe Companion, and a free;
But if you'd have me always near-
A word, pray, in your Honour's ear.
I hope it is your Refolution
To give me back my Conftitution!
The fprightly Wit, the lively Eye,
Th' engaging Smile, the Gaiety,
That laugh'd down many a Summer Sun,
And kept you up fo oft till one:
And all that voluntary Vein,
As when Belinda rais'd my Strain.

A Weafel once made shift to flink

In at a Corn-loft thro' a Chink;

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VER. 50. As when Belinda] A compliment he pays himfelf and the public on his Rape of the Look.

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Cui muftela procul, Si vis, ait, effugere iftinc;
Macra cavum repetes arctum, quem macra subisti.
Haec ego fi compellor imagine, cuncta refigno ;
Nec fomnum plebis laudo fatur altilium, nec
Otia divitiis Arabum liberrima muto.
Saepe verecundum laudafti: Rexque, Paterque
Audifti coram, nec verbo parcius abfens:
Infpice, fi poffum donata reponere laetus.

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But having amply ftuff'd his fkin, Could not get out as he got in: Which one belonging to the Houfe ('Twas not a Man, it was a Moufe) Obferving, cry'd, "You scape not foam) "Lean as you came, Sir, you must go."



Sir, you may spare your Application, I'm no fuch Beaft, nor his Relation; Nor one that Temperance advance, Cramm'd to the throat with Ortolans: Extremely ready to refign

All that

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may make me none of mine.
South-fea Subscriptions take who please,
Leave me but Liberty and Ease.
'Twas what I said to Craggs and Child,
Who prais'd my Modefty, and fmil'd.
Give me, I cry'd, (enough for me)
My Bread, and Independency!
So bought an Annual Rent or two,
And liv'd just as you fee I do;
Near fifty, and without a Wife,
I trust that finking Fund, my Life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my Paternal Cell,







VER. 66. Craggs and Child,] Mr. Craggs gave him fome South-fea fubfcriptions. He was fo indifferent about them as to neglect making any benefit of them. He used to say it was a fatisfaction to him that he did not grow rich (as he might have done) by the public calamity.

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A little

Parvum parva decent. mihi jam non regia Roma, Sed vacuum Tibur placet, aut imbelle Tarentum. Strenuus et fortis, caufifque Philippus agendis Clarus, etc.



A little House, with Trees a-row,
And, like its Master, very low.

There dy'd my Father, no man's Debtor,
And there I'll die, nor worse nor better.

To fet this matter full before ye,
Our old Friend Swift will tell his Story.
Harley, the Nation's great Support,"-
But you may read it, I stop short.



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