Poems on Several Occasions..

Oh! not with half that Warmth and Life,
With which He kifs'd AMPHITRYON'S Wife.

Well then, Things handfomly were ferv'd:
My Mistress for the Strangers carv'd.

How ftrong the Beer, how good the Meat,
How loud They laught, how much They eat,
In Epic fumptuous would appear;

Yet fhall be pafs'd in Silence here:
For I fhould grieve to have it faid,
That by a fine Description led,
I made my Episode too long,

Or tir'd my Friend, to grace my Song.

The Grace-Cup ferv'd, the Cloth away,
JOVE thought it time to fhow his Play:
Landlord and Landlady, He cry'd,
Folly and Jefting laid aside,

That Ye thus hospitably live,

And Strangers with good Chear receive,

Is mighty grateful to your Betters,

And makes ev'n Gods themfelves your Debtors.

To give this Thefis plainer Proof,

You have to Night beneath your Roof
A Pair of Gods: (nay never wonder)
This Youth can Fly, and I can Thunder.
I'm JUPITER, and He MERCURIUS,
My Page, my Son indeed, but fpurious.
Form then Three Wifhes, You and Madam:
And fure, as You already had 'em,

The

The Things defir'd in half an Hour

Shall all be here, and in your Pow'r.

Thank Ye, great Gods, the Woman fays:
Oh! may your Altars ever blaze.

A Ladle for our Silver Difh.
Is what I want, is what I Wifh.

A Ladle! cries the Man, a Ladle!
'Odzooks, CORISCA, You have pray'd ill:
What should be Great, You turn to Farce:
I Wifh the Ladle in your A——-

With equal Grief and Shame my Mufe
The Sequel of the Tale purfues:
The Ladle fell into the Room,

And ftuck in old CORISCA'S Bum.
Our Couple weep Two Wishes paft,
And kindly join to form the last,
To ease the Woman's aukward Pain,
And get the Ladle out again.

MORA L.

HIS Commoner has Worth and Parts,
Is prais'd for Arms, or loy'd for Arts:

His Head achs for a Coronet :

And Who is Blefs'd that is not Great?

Some Senfe, and more Eftate, kind Heav'n To this well-lotted Peer has giv'n:

What then? He must have Rule and Sway:
And all is wrong, 'till He's in Play.

The Mifer must make up his Plumb,
And dares not touch the hoarded Sum:
The fickly Dotard wants a Wife,
To draw off his last Dregs of Life.

Against our Peace We arm our Will:
Amidft our Plenty, Something still
For Horses, Houfes, Pictures, Planting,
To Thee, to Me, to Him is wanting.
That cruel Something unpoffefs'd
Corrodes, and levens all the rest.
That Something, if We could obtain,
Would foon create a future Pain:
And to the Coffin, from the Cradle,
'Tis all a WISH, and all a LADLE.

Written

at PARIS, 1700.

In the Beginning of

ROBE'S GEOGRAPHY.

OF All that WILLIAM Rules, or ROBE

Describes, Great RHEA, of Thy Globe;

When or on Poft-Horfe, or in Chaife,

With much Expence, and little Eafe,

My deftin'd Miles I fhall have gone,

By THAMES or MAESE, by Po or RHONE,
And found no Foot of Earth my own ;
GREAT MOTHER, let Me Once be able
To have a Garden, House, and Stable;
That I may Read, and Ride, and Plant,
Superior to Defire, or Want;

And as Health fails, and Years increase,
Sit down, and think, and die in Peace.
Oblige Thy Fav'rite Undertakers

To throw Me in but Twenty Acres:
This Number fure They may allow ;
For Pasture Ten, and Ten for Plow:
'Tis all that I wou'd Wifh, or Hope,
For ME, and JOHN, and NELL, and CROP.

Then, as Thou wilt, difpofe the rest (And let not FORTUNE spoil the Jest) To Thofe, who at the Market-Rate Can barter Honour for Eftate.

Now if Thou grant'ft Me my Request,
To make Thy Vot'ry truly bleft,
Let curft Revenge, and fawcy Pride
To fome bleak Rock far off be ty'd;
Nor e'er approach my Rural Seat,
To tempt Me to be Bafe, and Great.

And, GODDESS, This kind Office done,

Charge VENUS to command her Son,

K k