THUS we both should gain our prize;

I to laugh, and you grow wife.

The DrsCOVERY *

WHEN wife Lord Berkeley firft came here,

Statefmen and mob expected wonders;

Nor thought to find so great a peer

Ere a week paft committing blunders.

Till on a day cut out by fate,

When folks came thick to make their court,

Out flipt a mystery of state,

To give the town and country fport. Now enters Bush † with new state-airs, His Lordship's premier minifter; And who in all profound affairs

Is held as needful as his clyfter ‡.

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When the Earl of Berkeley went over to Ireland as one of the Lords Justices, the author, in compliance with his invitation, went over with him as chaplain and private fecretary. But Bush, another of the Earl's attendants, having infinuated, that the place of fecretary was not proper for a clergyman, found means, foon after they arrived at Dublin, to obtain it for himself.-Swift, fired with indignation at this injurious treatment, writ this fatirical copy of verses. Swift.

My Lord's wife fecretary.

Always taken before my Lord went to council.

With head reclining on his shoulder,
He deals and hears myfterious chat,
While every ignorant beholder

Afks of his neighbour, Who is that ?
With this he put up to my Lord,

The courtiers kept their diftance due, He twitch'd his fleeve, and stole a word;" Then to a corner both withdrew. Imagine now my Lord and Bush

Whifp'ring in junto moft profound,

Like good King Phyz, and good King Ush †,
While all the reft ftood gaping round.

At length a fpark, not too well bred,
Of forward face and ear acute,

Advanc'd on tiptoe, lean'd his head, t
To overhear the grand difpute;
To learn what northern kings defign,
Or from Whitehall fome new exprefs,
Papifts difarm'd, or fall of coin:

For fure (thought he) it can't be less.
My Lord, faid Bush, a friend and I.

Difguis'd in two old threadbare coats, Ere morning's dawn ftole out to fpy

How markets went for hay and oats:
With that he draws two handfuls out,

The one was oats, the other hay;
Puts this to's Excellency's fnout,
And begs he would the other weigh.

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My Lord feems pleas'd, but ftill directs

By all means to bring down the rates;

Then, with a congee circumflex,

Bufh, fmiling round on all, retreats.

Our listner stood a while confus'd,
But gath'ring fpirits wifely ran for't,

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Enrag'd to fee the world abus'd

By two fuch whisp'ring kings of Brentford.

M 2

+ Vide the Rehearsal.

The

The PROBLEM.

That my Lord B-ley ftinks when he's in love.

DID ever problem thus perplex,

Or more employ the female fex?
So fweet a paffion, who would think,
Jove ever form'd to make a stink ?........
The ladies vow and fwear they'll try,
Whether it be a truth or lie.

LOVE's fire, it seems, like inward heat,
Works in my Lord by stool and fweat ;
Which brings a stink from ev'ry pore,
And from behind, and from before :
Yet what is wonderful to tell it,

None but the fav'rite nymph can smell it.
But now to folve the natʼral caufe
By fober philofophic laws:

Whether all paffions, when in ferment,
Work out, as anger does in vermin;
So when a weazel you torment,
You find his paffion by his fcent.
We read of kings, who in a fright,
Tho' on a throne, would fall to fh-
Befide all this, deep scholars know,
That the main ftring of Cupid's bow,
Once on a time was an a-

-gut,

Now to a nobler office put,
By favour or defert preferr'd
From giving paffage to a't an
But ftill, tho' fix'd among the ftars,
Does fympathize with human a--------

Thus, when you feel an hard-bound breech,
Conclude love's bow-ftring at full firetch,

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20.

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Till the kind loofenefs comes, and then
Conclude the bow relax'd again.

AND now the ladies all are bent

To try the great experiment,
Ambitious of a regent's heart,
Spread all their charms to catch a f-
Watching the firft unfav'ry wind,
Some ply before, and fome behind.
My Lord, on fire amidst the dames,
-ts like a laurel in the flames.
The fair approach the speaking part,
To try the back-way to his heart.
For, as when we a gun discharge,
Altho' the bore be ne'er so large,
Before the flame from muzzle burst,

F

Juft at the breech it flashes first :
So from my Lord his paffion broke,
He farted first, and then he spoke.

THE ladies vanish in the fmother,
To confer notes with one another :
And now they all agree to name

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Whom each one thought the happy dame.
Quoth Neal, whate'er the reft may think,
I'm fure 'twas I that fmelt the flink.

You smell the ftink! by G-, you lie,
Quoth Rofs, for I'll be fworn 'twas I.

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Ladies, quoth Levens, pray forbear,
Let's not fall out, we all had fhare;

And, by the most I can discover,
My Lord's an univerfal lover.

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M 3

A

A LOVE-POEM from a PHYSICIAN to

his MISTRESS.

Written at London in the year 1738. *

Y poets we are well affur'd

BY

That love, alas! can ne'er be cur'd ;

A complicated heap of ills,
Defpifing bolufes and pills.
Ah! Chloe, this I find is true,
Since first I gave my heart to you.
Now, by your cruelty hard-bound,
I ftrain my guts, my colon wound:
Now, jealoufy my grumbling tripes
Affaults with grating, grinding gripes :
When pity in thofe eyes I view,
My bowels wambling make me fpue.
When I an am'rous kifs defign'd,
1 belch'd a hurricane of wind.
Once you a gentle figh let fall,

Remember how I fuck'd it all;

What colic pangs from thence I felt,

Had you but known, your heart would melt,
Like ruffling winds in caverns pent,

Till nature pointed out a vent.

How have you torn my heart to pieces,

With maggots, humours, and caprices!
By which I got the hemorrhoids,
And loathfome worms my anus voids.
Whene'er I hear a rival nam'd,

I feel my body all inflam'd,

Which breaking out in boils and blanes,
With yellow filth my linen stains.

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Small beer I guzzle till I burst :

Or, parch'd with unextinguish'd thirst,

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• Dean Swift was not in London after the year 1727.