AN

EXPENSIVE JILT.

B. xi. EP. 50.

"HÆC NÔSSE SALUS EST ADOLESCENTULIS." TER.

THERE's not an hour, my Phillis, in the day,
But you contrive to make my fondness pay.
Your maid, an artful flut, now cries, "Alas!
"What shall I do?—I've broke my lady's glass.
Then Phillis comes herself, in tears, poor thing!
And tells me she has loft her favourite ring,
Or dropt, perchance, a diamond from her locket-
Then, a new piece of filk muft *pick my pocket.
Behold her next, her effence-box produce,
Which wants fome rich perfume or eau-de-luce.
Now an old hag, pretending to divine

And folve her dreams, must have fome old tent wine:+
I then for fish the market must explore,
Some demirep will dine with us at four.

*Furtiva lucri.

"Nigra," to appease the infernal deities.

But, prithee! Phillis, pay fome small regard To justice and my generous love reward: Since I refuse you nothing, how can you Thus pick my pocket-and refuse* me too?

TO

MISS S**** H*******

CECILIA fings:-how strong, how clear,

Her thrilling accents ftrike the ear!

But, by degrees, the foften'd lay
In melting sweetness dies away:
And, while we liften to the fair,
The notes feem half-diffolv'd in air.
Yet fuch the raptures they impart,
With lightning's force they pierce the heart.

* "Negas." Verbum amatorium.

MARTIAL,

PAUPER CINNA VULT VIDERI-ET EST PAUPER,

IMITATED.

WITH old flouch'd hat and undress'd hair,

Cinna affects a rustick air;

And, while due forms he thus neglects,
He is the ruftick he affects.

ANOTHER.

Callidus impofuit nuper mihi caupo Ravenna,
Cum peterem mixtum, vendidit ille merum.

IMITATED: A REAL FACT.

Indeed, my good friend, I have cause to complain,
When I call'd for fome cyder, you gave me Champagne,

excitated to Roal fact but from the
Pur
Oxford: Ja wage

a

a tanlorda Bath put upon caquees Hum

Jasked for

some

Punch a he gave

会

YOU dine with lords, and with infulting air,
Repeat, in favoury terms, your bill of fare:
I, happy to escape a fumptuous treat,
Enjoy the venifon-which I did not eat.

ON THE

FRENCH REVOLUTION.

THEY who, impatient of the yoke,
Have driv❜n one tyrant from the throne;

Now, to more base fubmiffion broke,

Beneath ten thousand tyrants groan.

*"A pint of wine is better than a bottle."

EQUALITY;

OR,

THE DYING LOVER.

YOUNG Corydon, a forward blade,

The offspring of a 'fquire, Addreis'd a lovely, blooming maid, Whofe father was—a dyer.

"A Dyer's daughter! cries his dad,
"What! marry her! O fye!"
"Why not, fir, fays the honeft lad,
"You know we all must die.

A Man at Totness mys who e come prant to a Rhyme with compliating the Rhyme for mitonce

1 John Dyer

Hand

threwy Hand in the Chimney