And only with her Brother linkt

Can fhine, without him is extinct.
But Carolina fhines the clearer

With neither spouse nor brother near her
And darts her beams o'er both our ifles,
Though George is gone a thousand miles.
Thus Berecynthia takes her place,
Attended by her heavenly race;
And fees fon in every God,
Unaw'd by Jove's all-fhaking nod.
Now fing his little Highnefs Freddy,
Who ftruts like any king already r
With fo much beauty, fhew me any maid
That could refift this charming Ganymede !
Where majefty with fweetnefs vies,
And, like his father, early wife.
Then cut him out a world of work,

To conquer Spain, and quell the Turk:
Foretel his empire crown'd with bays,
And golden times, and halcyon days;
And fwear his line fhall rule the nation
For ever- till the conflagration.
But, now it comes into my mind,
We left a little Duke behind;
A Cupid in his face and fize,
And only wants to want his eyes.
Make fome provifion for the younker,
Find him a kingdom out to conquer :
Prepare a fleet to waft him o'er,
Make Gulliver his commodore;

Into whofe pocket valiant Willy put,

Will foon fubdue the realm of Lilliput.
A skilful critick justly blames

Hard, tough, crank, guttural, harsk, stiff names.
The fenfe can ne'er be too jejune,
But smooth your words to fit the tune.
Hanover may do well enough,

But George and Brunswick are too rough:
Heffe-Darmstadt makes a rugged found,
And Guelp the ftrongeft ear will wound.
In vain are all attempts from Germany
To find out proper words for harmony:
And yet I must except the Rhine,
Because it clinks to Caroline.

Hail! Queen of Britain, Queen of rhymes!
Be fung ten hundred thousand times!
Too happy were the poets' crew,
If their own happiness they knew:
Three fyllables did never meet
So foft, fo fliding, and so sweet:
Nine other tuneful words like that
Would prove ev'n Homer's numbers flat.
Behold three beauteous vowels ftand,
With bridegroom liquids, hand in hand;
In concord here for ever fix'd,
No jarring confonant betwixt.

May Caroline continue long,
For ever fair and young! - in fong.
What though the royal carcafe muft,
Squeez'd in a coffin, turn to duft;

Thofe

At Goodman's-Fields I 've much admir'd

The postures ftrange of Monfieur Brilla;
But what are they to the soft step,
The gliding air, of Domitilla?
Virgil has eterniz'd in song

The flying footsteps of Camilla:
Sure, as a prophet, he was wrong;
He might have dreamt of Domitilla.
Great Theodofe condemn'd a town
For thinking ill of his Placilla,
And deuce take London, if fome knight
O' th' city wed not Domitilla!

Wheeler, Sir George, in travels wife,
Gives us a medal of Plantilla ;

But O! the emprefs has not eyes,

Nor lips, nor breaft, like Domitilla.

Not all the wealth of plunder'd Italy,
Pil'd on the mules of king At-tila,
Is worth one glove (I'll not tell a bit a lie)
Or garter, fnatch'd from Domitilla.

Five years a nymph at certain hamlet,
Y-cleped Harrow of the Hill, a-

bus'd much my heart, and was a damn'd let
To verfe- but now for Domitilla.

Dan Pope configns Belinda's watch
To the fair Sylphid Momentilla,

And thus I offer up my catch

To th' fnow-white hands of Domitilla.

HELTER

HELTER

SKELTER;

OR,

The HUE and CR Y after the ATTORNIES, upon their riding the CIRCUIT.

N

OW the active

attornies

young
Brifkly travel on their journies,

Looking big as any giants,

On the horses of their clients,
Like fo many little Mars's
With their tilters at their a-s,
Brazen-hilted, lately burnish'd,
And with harness-buckles furnish'd,
And with whips and fpurs fo neat,
And with jockey-coats compleat,
And with boots fo very greafy,
And with faddles eke so easy,
And with bridles fine and gay,
Bridles borrow'd for a day,
Bridles deftin'd far to roam,
Ah! never, never to come home.
And with hats fo very big, Sir,

And with powder'd caps and wigs, Sir,
And with ruffles to be fhewn,
Cambrick ruffles not their own,

And with Holland fhirts fo white,
Shirts becoming to the fight,

VOL. II.

L

Shirts

Shirts be-wrought with different letters,

As belonging to their betters,
With their pretty tinfel'd boxes,
Gotten from their dainty doxies,
And with rings fo very trim,

Lately taken out of lim

And with very little

pence, And as very little sense,

With fome law, but little juftice,
Having ftolen from my hoftefs,
From the barber and the cutler,
Like the foldier from the futler;
From the vintner and the taylor,
Like the felon from the jaylor;
Into this and t'other county,
Living on the public bounty;
Thorough town and thorough village,
All to plunder, all to pillage;
Thorough mountains, thorough vallies,
Thorough ftinking lanes and alleys,
Some to kifs with farmers fpoufes,
And make merry in their houses;
Some to - tumble country wenches
On their rufhy-beds and benches,
And, if they begin a fray,

Draw their fwords, and - run away;
All to murder equity,

And to take a double fee;
Till the people all are quiet,
And forget to broil and riot,

Low