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Mr. J. M. S---E. catechized on his
Epiftle to Mr. POPE..


HAT makes you write at this odd rate?
Why, fir, it is to imitate.
What makes you steal and trifle so ?
Why, 'tis to do, as others do.
But there's no meaning to be feen!
Why, that's the very thing I mean.

Extempore Verfes occafion'd by a late


UGUSTA, cheif of cities, raise thy head;
Recal the actions, of the patriot dead.
What wou'd your great, your good fore-fathers fay,
When their degenerate fons their fears betray?


No fervile awe forfook fair freedom's caufe;
Their lives fhone forth a pattern of their laws.
Religion bore not then an empty name :
True to their god, their practice was their fame:
And when for bleffings taught their thanks to give,
No fleepy zealots pais'd their negative.

Grubftreet Journal, No 25.

To Mrs. M. H. on her working a Coat in SILKS.>



'HEN MIRA's hands her needle thread,
What gaudy scenes our eyes furprize;
To veiw a grove, or flow'ry bed,
Beneath her fnowy fingers rife!

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In ev'ry leaf fuch beauties dwell,

So fair they spread, fo full they bloom; Her fkilful fingers far excell

The painter's quill, or artift's loom. On the rich bed fresh rofes blown,

The jefmin and the myrtle meet. And as they mingle, feem to own

More fair her cheek, her breath more fweet.
That lilly from her hand fhe look. ;,

Which with the fnow in whiteness vies;
That bright carnation from her took,
Tha: fhining amarant from her eyes.
Thofe opening buds but half reveal'd,
That promife foon a fairer hue,
Shew like her breafts with lawn conceal'd,
Which boaft their sweets and softness too.
What tho' the abfent fun retir'd

The naked field no longer warms?
Each bloffom, by her art inspir'd,

Opens as wide as gayly charms.
Thy flowers for ever hold their prime,
Nor frofts, nor chilling winters fear;
Since near thy hoop, that happy clime,.

'Tis fpring, or fummer all the year. Pity, lov'd maid, that envious years

Thy youth fhou'd hurt, thy fweets consume
When wrought by thee each bud appears
-Unchang'd, and always in it's bloom.
Each youth with thee muft furely grieve

The partial rigour of the fky
That MIRA's Works muft bloom and live,
When MIRA's beauties fade and die.
A few fair months our gardens charm,
Now flourish and anon decay :
Each feafon on thy coat is warm,

And ev'ry verdent month is MAY.
Let autumns then the lilly hide,.

Our roses blaft, our myrtles chill: When feated clofe to MIRA's fide, "Tis JUNE, or fragrant APRIL ftill.

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Victorious nymph! whose hand has done
Beyond weak nature's fainter pow'r:
Waking each plant without the fun;

Swelling each bud without the fhow'r.
When ev'ry field befide is feen

Robb'd of it's pride; we here behold -
Gay spreading stems of lively green,
And yellow fruit of ripening gold:

AKING at ARMS difarm'd at LAW.
ABALLAD by an unknown Hand.



E fair injur'd nymphs, and ye beaus who deceive 'em,
Who with paffions engage, and without reason leave

'em ;

Draw near, and attend, how the hero I fing
Was foil'd by a girl, tho' at arms he was king.


Crefts, motto's, fupporters, and bearings knew he,
And deeply was ftudied in old pedigree;
He would fit a whole evening, and not without rapture,
Tell who begat whom, to the end of the chapter.


In forming his tables, nought griev'd him, but folely,
That the man died CALEBS, or elfe fine prole:
At laft having trac'd others families down,
He began to have thoughts of increasing his own.

A damfel he chofe, not too flow of belief,
And fain would be deem'd her admirer in chief:
He blazon'd his fuit, and the sum of his tale
Was his field and her field, join'd party per pale.
wii V.A.91 67

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In different ftile to tie fafter the noose, I'


He next would attack her in foft billet doux :
argent and fable were laid afide quite;

Plain ENGLISH he wrote, and in plain black and white.



Againft fuch atchievements, what beauty could fence? Or who would have thought it was all but pretence; His pain to relieve, and fulfil his defire, The lady agreed to join hands with the 'fquire.. VII.

The 'fquire in a fret, that the jeft went fo far,
Confider'd with fpeed, how to put in a bar :
His words bound not him, fince her's did not confine her;
And that is plain law, becaufe mifs is a minor.
VIII. ...



Mifs briskly reply'd, that the law was too hard,
If the who's minor may not be a W-
In law than confiding, fhe took it upon her,
By justice to mend thofe foul breaches of honour.


She handled him fo, that few would (I warrant,)
Have been in his coat on fo fleeveless an errand.
She made him give bond for ftamp'd argent and or:
And fabled his fhield, with gules blazon'd before,



Ye herolds produce, from the time of the NORMANS, In all your records, fuch a bafe non-performance: Or if without inftance the cafe is we touch on; Let this be fet down as a blot in his fcutcheon.



On Mr. M---RES going to Law with Mr. GILLIVER, inferib'd to Attorney TIBBALD.


NCE in his life M---RE judges right:
His fword and pen not worth a ftraw,
An author that could never write,
A gentleman that dares not fight,
Has but one way to teaze---by law.
This fuit, dear TIBBALD kindly hatch;
Thus thou may't help the fneaking elf;
And fure a printer is his match,
Who's but a publisher himself,

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Grubfreet Journal, No 26.



AID CHRIST the man, that's pure in heart,
And mean no ill, for heav'n may hope.
But, fure the Bard's not worth a fart,
Who nothing means, fays mafter POPE.
Criticks and cafuifts, fpeak your mind,
Is SE for heav'n or hell defign'd?


LE ST may the man be, by believing,
The poet's hardly worth saving.


Gold watch found on cinder whore,

A Or a good veríe on ---MY M-

Proves but what either fhou'd conceal,
Not that they're rich, but that they steal.


EPITAPH on the Monument of the Honble ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sifter the Honourable MARY DIGBY, in the Church of SHERBONE, in DORSETSHIRE, erected by. their Father the Lord DIGBY.


NO fair example of untainted youth,
Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth;
Juit of thy word, and in each thought fincere,
Who knew no wish, but what the world might hear;
Of foftest manners, unaffected mind,

Lover of peace, and friend of human kind.


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