Shou'd Genius a visit to Greatness presume,
He's scurvily offer'd a Chair;

Disdain marks the Things in the Visiting-room,
Who wonder the Fright shou'd come there.

Be proud, if you please, ye gay Groups of Conceit,
Still flatter, be venal, and vain;

We know what ye feel, what ye pay

for each treat, And we know too-Ye dare not complain.

With unmeaning gaze pamper'd Wealth wheel'd along,

With the Scurvy of Vanity swell'd,

Took the snuff of Contempt at the more worthy throng,

By whom he's with pity beheld.

Come meek-ey'd Humility, lend me thy hand,
Humanity deign me thy aid,

Instruct me, that I may myself understand
Not to scorn those my MAKER has made.

THE DEMIREP;

OR,

I KNOW WHO.

TUNE.

"Tho' Austria and Russia, France, Flanders, and Prussia."

CLEOP

YLEOPATRA the gay, as old stories declare,
Put Mark Anthony oft to the rout:

That the Lover was fond, and the Lady was fair,
No modern among us will doubt.

But yet I insist

Our own Times are the best,

Antiquity! what can that do, Sir?
Cou'd Livia, or Lais,

Faustina, or Thais,

Compare to the fine

Let Placemen receive, and let Patriots oppose,
And raise unforgiving dissentions;

A Mistress's Arms is the Post I wou'd chuse,
A Bottle and Friend are my Pensions.
Preferments at Court

Are Ministers sport,

When they see what to gain them folks do, Sir;
They may Boroughs command,

I wish only to stand

As Member for fine

I know who, Sir.

Possessors, Assessors, envelope the mind
With Ethics of old Aristotle;

C

The Lesson of Nature, to tutor Mankind,
Is-Beauty sublim'd by a Bottle.
The best in the College,

Who boast of their Knowledge,

The Science Supreme never knew, Sir,
Unless they can prove,

That a Lecture of Love

They have had with the fine

I know who, Sir.

You this or that system embrace or reject,
As Philosophy's fashion is ruling;

But look in her face and you'll find an effect
Beyond Electricity's fooling.

Tho' sparks there arise,

What are they to her eyes?

And as to what touching can do, Sir,
It is all but a joke,

When compar'd to the stroke

That is given by fine I know who, Sir.

The atoms of Cartes Si. Isaac destroy'd;
Lebnitz pilfer'd our Countryman's Fluxions;
Newton found out Attraction, and prov'd Nature's
void,

Spite of prejudic'd Plenum's constructions.
Gravitation can boast,

In the form of my Toast,

More power than all of them knew, Sir;
What FELLOW, or SOPH,

Will in Tangents fly off

From the Center of fine

I know who, Sir.

Ye sensible Socials who dare, now and then,
To laugh at some Folks in this Nation,
'Tis Beauty which sculptures us Blocks into Men,
To beauty then make a Libation.
Poor Lovers may prize,

Lips, Legs, Arms, and Eyes,

Such piece-meal pretensions won't do, Sir?
No Part shall be lost

When I mention my Toast,

"Here's the WHOLE of the fine-I know who, Sir."

BLEAK Winter is drove, by warm winds, to the

North,

And Spring's early pencil gay colours the Earth; Each Blossom expands its pied leaves to the Day, Creation's new cloath'd in the Livery of May.

As thus, in Soliloquy, rambling along,

I look'd tow'rds the Wood, there I heard a sweet Song; The Leaves gently fann'd to and fro' by the breeze, The Air a soft Symphony play'd thro' the trees.

As a Hound after Hare the long meadow o'erleaps, It was something like Love which gave speed to my -steps;

I beat thro' the Thicket, upon the Game sprung,
And too soon had a view of the Syren who sung.

Oh! how my heart beat, how alarm'd was my pride,
To behold a young Rustic fix'd close at her side;
They toy'd and they prattled, 'twas innocent play,
Their rosy cheeks spoke all the warmth of new May.

The Lad and the Lass look'd like Eden's first pair,
And I, scowling, stood just as Satan did there;
Her Tenderness hateful, his Fondness as bad,
But their give-and-take Kissings,-O God !—I grew

mad.

I turn'd from the sight, then return'd in despair,
And pretended a cure by despising the Fair;
On both bestow'd curses, went raving away,
But I stopp'd at each step, nor cou'd go, nor cou'd
stay.

Home heavily sighing, I halted along,

Each Bird jarr'd my Head with its out-of-tune Song:
The late pleasing Landscapes appear'd in decay,
The Scene to December was chang'd from new May.

In my books I expected some Nostrum to find,
But Learning to Love has small share in the Mind;
No Morals I met there the wonder cou'd work,
But Instinct suggested to draw a long Cork.

As Sorrow is dry, the best thing I cou'd do,
To make my Cure perfect, was-drawing out Two:
So Wine before Wenching hereafter I'll say,
For Wine's good in all Months, as well as in May.

A TIME FOR ALL THINGS.

TUNE.

"I am a young Damsel that flatters myself."

Α AL

LL things have their Time by the Hebrew
King's rule;

What pity a Wise Man wou'd e'er play the Fool. ·
Yet weak was that Sage, who when long past his prime,
Attempted with beautiful Girls to keep Time.
All was Vanity then, and Vexation his text,

To be sure he was vain, and his women were vex❜d.