Like Daphne sometimes in a tree :
Yet am not one of all you see.

Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R. BEGOTTEN, and born, and dying with noise,

The terror of women, and pleasure of boys,
Like the fiction of poets concerning the wind,
I'm chiefly unruly, when strongest confin'd.
For silver and gold I don't trouble my head,
But all I delight in is pieces of lead;
Except when I trade with a ship or a town,
Why then I make pieces of iron go

down. One property more I would have


No lady was ever more fond of a spark;
The moment I get one, my soul's all a-fire,
And I roar out my joy, and in transport expire.


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THERE is a gate, we know full well,

That stands 'twixt heav'n, and earth, and hell, Where many

for a passage venture, But very few are fond to enter; Altho' 'tis open night and day,

5 They for that reason fhun this way : Both dukes and lords abhor its wood, They can't come near it for their blood. What other way they take to go, Another time I'll let you know. Yet commoners, with greatest ease, Can find an entrance when they please. The poorest hither march in state, (Or they can never pass the gate), Like Roman generals triumphant,

15 And then they take a turn and jump on't.


If gravest parsons here advance,
They cannot pass before they dance ;
There's not a foul that does refort here,
But strips himfelf to pay the portér.

A N O T H E R.


ROM heav'n I fall, though from earth I begin,

No Lady alive can shew such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of heav'n appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.
My parent and I produce one another,

9 The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.

Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.

I'M up, and down, and round about,

Yet all the world can't find me out; Though hundreds have employ'd their leisure, They never yet could find


I'm found almost in ev'ry garden,
Nay, in the compass of a farthing.
There's neither chariot, coach, nor mill,
Can move an inch except I will.

Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.

I Am jet-black, as you may fee,

The son of pitch, and gloomy night;
Yet all that know me will agree,

I'm dead except I live in light.
Vol. VII.





Sometimes in panegyric high,

Like lofty Pindar, I can soar, And raise a virgin to the sky,

Or sink her to a pocky whore. My blood this day is very sweet,

To-morrow of a bitter juice ; Like milk 'tis cry'd about the street,

And so apply'd to diff'rent use. Most wondrous is my magic pow'r :

For with one colour I can paint ; I'll make the devil a faint this hour,

Next make a devil of a saint. Through diftant regions I can fly,

Provide me but with paper wings, And fairly shew a reason, why

There should be quarrels among kings... And after all you'll think it odd,

When learned Doctors will dispute, That I should point the word of God,

And shew where they can beft confute. Let lawyers bawl and Arain their throats,

"Tis I that must the lands convey, And strip the clients to their coats, · Nay give their very fouls away.






VER eating, never cloying,

All devouring, all destroying,
Never finding full repaft,
Till I eat the world at laft.



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E are little airy creatures,

All of diff'rent voice and features,
One of us in glass is fet,
One of us you'll find in jet,
T'other you may see in tin,
And the fourth a box within ;
If the fifth you should pursue,
It can never fly from you.



A N O T H E R.. A?

LL of us in one you'll find,

Brethren of a wondrous kind;
Yet among us all no brother
Knows one tittle of the other;
We in frequent councils are,
And our marks of things declare,
Where, to us unknown, a clerk
Sits, and takes them in the dark.
He's the register of all
In our ken, both great and small ;
By us forms his laws and rules,
He's our master, we his tools;
Yet we can with greatest ease
Turn and wind him where we please.

One of us alone can sleep,
Yet no watch the rest will keep,
But the moment that he closes,
Ev'ry brother else reposes.

If wine's bought, or victuals dreft, One enjoys them for the rest.

Pierce us all with wounding steel, One for all of us will feel.



Though ten thousand cannons roar,
Add to them ten thousand more;
Yet but one of us is found
Who regards the dreadful sound.

Do what is not fit to tell,
There's but one of us can smell.


Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.






HEN on my borom thy bright eyes,

Florinda, dart their heav'nly beams,
I feel not the least love-surprize,

Yet endless tears flow down in streams;
There's nought fo beautiful in thee,
But you may find the same in me.
The lilies of thy skin compare ;

In me you see them full as white;
The roses of your cheeks, I dare

Affirm, can't glow to more delight ;
Then, since I few as fine a face,
Can you refuse a soft embrace ?
Ah lovely nymph, thou’rt in thy prime!

And fo am I whilst thou art here;.-
But soon will come the fatal time,

When all we see shall disappear. 'Tis mine to make a just reflection, And yours to follow my

direction. Then catch admirers while you may ;

Treat not your lovers with disdain ;)
For time with beauty flies away,

And there is no return again.
To you the fad account I bring,
Life's autumn has no second spring.


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