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In satires, epistles, and odes would they cope,
Kitty, a fair, but frozen maid,
Kindled a flame I still deplore ; The hood-wink'd boy I call'd in aid, Much of his near approach afraid,
So fatal to my suit before.
At length, propitious to my pray'r,
The little urchin came;
To Kitty, Fanny now fucceeds,
She kindles flow, but lasting fires :
To satisfy my strange desires.
+ The number of the French academy employed in settling tfair language.
Say, by what title †, or what name,
Must I this youth address :
I'll kiss you, if you guess.
SIR WILLIAM YOUNG TO HIS LADY,
ON HAVING AN EYE BEAT OUT.
How vain are all the joys of man,
By nature born to certain forrow ; Since none, not e’en the wiseft can
Insure the pleasures of to-morrow! These eyes, fo late my envy'd boast,
By Celia priz'd above all other; See one, alas ! for ever lost,
Its fellow weeping for its brother.
Yet ftill I'm bleft while one remains,
For viewing lovely Celia's beauty ; Her looks still ease acutest pains,
With tenderest love and cheerful duty.
The fatal blow I'd borne with pleasure;
+ The clini ey-sweeper.
E'en then the beauties of her mind
Would amply bless her faithful lover ; He must be deaf as well as blind,
Who can't my Celia's charms discover.
E'en then I'd find one folid bliss,
Which Heav'n alone to me difpenfes ; Tho' deaf and blind, her balmy kiss
Would ravish the remaining senses.
INVITED AND STRONGLY PRESSED TO PASS A WEEK EN FAMILLE" AT WARWICK
AR RIVES, 15 SHEWN THE CURIOSITIES LIKE A COMMON TRAVELLER, TREATED WITH CHOCOLATE, AND DISMISSED DIRECTLY, UPON WHICH HE WROTE THE FOLLOWING VERSES.
SOME strollers | invited by Warwick's kind earl,
To his castle magnificent came ; Prepar'd to respect both the owner and feat,
And to thew them due honour and fame. His chambers, his kitchen, his cellars, they prais'd,
But, alas ! they foon found to their cost,
They reckon'd without their great hoft.
He shew'd them Guy's pot, but he gave them no
soup, No meat would his lordship allow, Unless they had guaw'd the blade-bone of the boar,
Or the rib of the famous dun cow. " But fince you're my friends (says this complaisant
" I'll give you a new printed book, “ Which may to your tastes some amusement afford,
" 'Tis the histry of Greville and Brooke.” Since your lordship's so civil, well-bred, and polite,
Pray pardon one curse from a finner ; For our breakfast we thank you, our very good lord,
But a plague on your family dinner.
AN INSCRIPTION FOR THE CASTLE GATEWAY.
When Neville, the stout Earl of Warwick, liv'd
Fat oxen for breakfast were slain ; And his friends were all welcome to sport and good
And invited again and again ;-
I his earl, with no oxen does feed 'em ;
D. G. NA TURE
NATURE AND GARRICK,
As Nature and Garrick were talking one day,
It chanc'd' they had words and fell out; Dame Reason wou'd fain have prevented a fray,
But could not, they both were so stout, Says Garrick, I honour you, madam, 'tis true;
And with pride to your laws I submit: But Shakespeare paints stronger and better than
All critics of taste will admit. How! Shakespeare paint stronger and better than
Cries Nature, quite touch'd to the soul ;
But what from my records he stole.
Whenever I paint or I draw,
For which thou shalt suffer the law.
To me all the praise shall be giv'n :
So Nature and Garrick are even.
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