* WHITSHED's Motto on his Coach.

Libertas & natale Solum,
Liberty and my native Country

Written in the Year 1724.

[ocr errors]

IBERTAS & natale Solum ;

Fine Words ; I wonder where you stole ’um.
Could nothing but thy chief Reproach,
Serve for a Motto on thy Coach?
But let me now the Words translate :
Natale Solum: My Estate:
My dear Estate ; how well I love it ;
My Tenants, if you doubt, will prove it:
They swear, I am so kind and good,
I hug them, till I squeeze their Blood.

LIBERTAS bears a large Import ;
First; how to swagger in a Court;
And, Secondly, to shew my Fury
Against an uncomplying Jury:
And, Thirdly; 'tis a new Invention,
To favour Wood, and keep my Pension:

[ocr errors][merged small]

* That noted Chief Justice, who twice prosecuted the Drapier, and diffolved the Grand Jury for not finding the Bill against him.

And, Fourthly ; 'cis to play an odd Trick,
Get the Great Seal, and turn out Brod'rick:
And, Fifthly; you know whom I mean,
To humble that vexatious Dean.
And, Sixthly ; for my Soul, to barter it
For Fifty Times its Worth, to * Carteret.

Now, since your Motto thus you construe,
I must confess you've spoken once true,
Libertas & natale Solum ;
You had good Reason, when you stole 'um.

* Lord Carteret, who was then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Sent by Dr. DELANY, to Dr. S-----T,

in order to be admitted to speak to bim.

Written in the Year 1724.


EAR Sir, I think ’tis doubly hard,

Your Ears and Doors should both be barr’d: Can any thing be more unkind ? Mit 1:100 lec, 'cause you are blind ? Mc binks, a Friend at Night should cheer you, A Friend that loves to see and hear you: Why am I robb'd of that Delight? When you can be no Loser by't.


Nay, when ’tis plain, for what is plainer ?
That, if you heard, you'd be no Gainer.
For sure, you are not yet to learn,
That Hearing is not your Concern.
Then be your Doors no longer barrd,
Your Business, Sir; is to be heard.

[ocr errors][merged small]


[ocr errors]

HE Wise pretend to make it clear,

'Tis no great Lofs to lose an Ear ;
Why are we then so fond of two?
When by Experience one will do.
'Tis true, say they, cut off the Head,
And there's an End; the Man is dead;
Because, among all human Race,
None e'er was known to have a Brace;
But confidently they maintain,
That where we find the Members twain,
The Loss of one is no such Trouble,
Since t'other will in Strength be double ;
The Limb surviving, you may swear,
Becomes his Brother's lawful Heir:
Thus, for a Tryal, let me beg of
Your Rev'rence, but to cut one Leg off,

you shall find by this Device,
The other will be stronger twice;
For ev'ry Day you shall be gaining
New Vigour to the Leg remaining.


So, when an Eye hath lost its Brother,
You see the better with the other,
Cut off your Hand, and you may do
With t'other Hand the Work of two:
Because, the Soul her Power contracts,
And on the Brother Limb re-acts.

But, yet the Point is not so clear in Another Cafe ; the Sense of Hearing: For tho' the Place of either Ear, Be diftant as one Head can bear. Yet Galen most acutely shews you, (Consult his Book de Partium usu) That from each Ear, as he observes, There creep two Auditory Nervesy (Not to be seen without a Glass) Which near the Os Petrosum pass; Thence to the Neck; and, moving thorough there: One goes to this, and one to t'other Ear. Which made my Grand-Dame always stuff her Ears, Both Right and Left, as Fellow-sufferers. You see my Learning; but to shorten it, When my Left Ear was deaf a Fortnight, To t'other Ear I felt it coming on, And thus I folve this hard Phænomenon.

'Tis true, a Glass will bring supplies
To weak, or old, or clouded Eyes.
Your Arms, tho' both your Eyes were lost,
Would guard your Nose against a Porte


Without your Legs, two Legs of Wood
Are stronger, and almost as good ;
And, as for Hands, there have been those,
Who, wanting both, have us’d their Toes.
But no Contrivance yet appears,
To furnish artificial Ears.

STELL A's Birth-Day.

Written in the Year 1724.


S, when a beauteous Nymph decays,

We say, she's past her Dancing Days ;
So, Poets lose their Feet by Time,
And can no longer dance in Rhyme:
Your annual Bard had rather chose
To celebrate your Birth in Profe. .
Yet, merry Folks, who want by Chance,
A Pair to make a Country-Dance,
Call the old House-keeper, and get her
To fill a Place, for want of better.
While Sheridan is off the Hooks,
And Friend Delany at his Books,
That Stella may avoid Disgrace,
Once more the D-n fupplies their Place.


« ForrigeFortsett »