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Valleys wide,

Over woods,

Over floods !

When he treads,
Mountains heads
Groan and shake;
Armies quake:
Let his fpurn
Overturn

Man and fteed;
Troops, take head!
Left and right,
Speed your flight!
Left an hoft

Beneath his foot be loft.

TURN'D afide

From his hide

Safe from wound

Darts rebound.

From his nofe

Clouds he blows:

When he speaks,

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* A gentle ECHO on WOMAN.

Shepherd,

In the Doric Manner.

CHO, I ween, will in the woods reply,

Есно,

And quaintly answer questions: fhall I try?

Shepherd,

What must we do our paffion to exprefs?

Shepherd,

How fhall I please her who ne'er lov'd before?

Shepherd,

What most moves women, when we them addrefs?

Shepherd,

Say, what can keep her chafte, whom I adore?

Shepherd,

If mufic foften rocks, love tunes my lyre.

Shepherd,

Echo, Try.

Echo, Prefs.

Echo, Before.

Echo, A drefs.

Echo, A door.

Echo, Lyar.

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Echo, Beer.

Echo, Be kind.

Then teach me, Echo, how fhall I come by her?

When bought, no question, I shall be her dear?

But deer have horns; how muft I keep her under?

Shepherd,

. How fhall I hold her ne'er to part asunder?

Shepherd,

But what can glad me when she's laid on bier ?

Shepherd,

What must I do, when woman will be kind?

Shepherd,

What must I do, when woman will be cross?

Shepherd,

Lord! what is the that can fo turn and wind?

Shepherd,

If the be wind, what ftills her when the blows?

Echo, Be cross.

Echo, Wind.

Echo, Blows

Echo, Bang her.

Echo, Hang ber.

Shepherd,
But if the bang again, still should I bang her?

Shepherd,

Is there no way to moderate her anger?

Shepherd,
Thanks, gentle Echo, right thy anfwers tell,
What woman is, and how to guard her well.

Echo, Guard her well.

EPILOGUE to a PLAY for the benefit of the Weavers in Ireland, 1721.

HO dares affirm this is no pious age,

WH

When charity begins to trade the stage ?
When actors, who at beft are hardly favers,
Will give a night of benefit to weavers ?
Stay,-let me fee, how finely will it found!
Imprimis, from his Grace * a hundred pound :
Peers, clergy, gentry, all are benefactors;
And then comes in the item of the actors:
Item, the actors freely give a day,—
The poet had no more who made the play.

BUT whence this wondrous charity in play'rs?
They learn'd it not at fermons, or at pray'rs.
Under the rofe, fince here are none but friends,
To own the truth, we have fome private ends.

* Dr William King, Archbishop of Dublin.

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10

Since waiting-women, like exacting jades,
Hold up the prices of their old brocades,
We'll dress in manufactures made at home,
Equip our kings and genʼrals at the Comb *:
We'll rig in Meath ftreet Egypt's haughty queen;
And Anthony fhall court her in rateen.

In blue jballoon fhall Hannibal be clad,
And Scipio trail an Irifh purple plad.

In drugget drefs'd, of thirteen pence a-yard,
See Philip's fon amidst his Perfian guard;
And proud Roxana, fir'd with jealous rage,
With fifty yards of crape fhall fweep the ftage.
In short, our kings and princeffes within
Are all refolv'd the project to begin;
And you, our fubjects, when you here resort,
Muft imitate the fashions of the court.

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20

25

30

OH! Could I fee this audience clad in fluff,

Tho' money's scarce, we should have trade enough.
But chints, brocades, and lace take all away,
And scarce a crown is left to fee a play.

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Perhaps you wonder whence this friendship springs 35
Between the weavers, and us playhouse-kings:
But wit and weaving had the fame beginning;
Pallas first taught us poetry and spinning.

And next obferve how this alliance fits,

For weavers now are just as poor as wits:
Their brother quill-men, workers for the stage,
For forry ftuff can get a crown a page ;
But weavers will be kinder to the play'rs,
And fell for twenty pence a yard of theirs :
And, to your knowledge, there is often lefs in
The poet's wit, than in the player's dreffing.

40

45

VOL. VI.

е

Aftreet in Dublin famous for woollen manufactures.

EPI

EPITAPH ON

A MISER.

BENE

ENEATH this verdant hillock lies,
Demar, the wealthy and the wife.
His heirs, that he might fafely rest,
Have put his carcafe in a cheft;
The very cheft, in which, they fay,
His other felf, his money, lay.
And, if his heirs continue kind
To that dear self he left behind,
I dare believe, that four in five
Will think his better half alive.

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10

To STELLA, who collected and tran

fcribed his

poems.

Written in the year 1720.

AS, when a lofty pile is rais'd,

We never hear the workmen prais'd,

Who bring the lime, or place the ftones;

But all admire Inigo Jones:

So, if this pile of fcatter'd rhymes
Should be approv'd in after times,
If it both pleases and endures,
The merit and the praise are yours.

THOU, Stella, wert no longer young,
When firft for thee my harp I ftrung,
Without one word of Cupid's darts,
Of killing eyes, or bleeding hearts:
With friendship and esteem poffeft,
I ne'er admitted love a guest.

IN all the habitudes of life,
The friend, the mistress, and the wife,

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