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With which Prometheus fhall be ty'd,
And high in air for ever ride;
Where, if we find his liver grows,
For want of vulturs, we have crows.

*STREPHON and FLAVIA.

WITH ev'ry lady in the land

Soft Strephon kept a pother;

One year he languifh'd for one hand,
And next year for the other.
Yet, when his love the fhepherd told
To Flavia fair and coy,
Referv'd, demure, than fnow more cold,
She fcorn'd the gentle boy.

Late at a ball he own'd his pain:

She blush'd, and frown'd, and fwore,
With all the marks of high difdain,
She'd never hear him more.
The swain perfifted still to pray,
The nymph ftill to deny ;

At laft fhe vow'd fhe wou'd not stay;
He fwore she shou'd not fly.

Enrag'd, fhe call'd her footman ftrait,
And rufh'd from out the room,
Drove to her lodging, lock'd the gate,
And lay with Ralph at home.

CORINN A.

HIS day (the year I dare not

I tell)

Apollo play'd the midwife's part; Into the world Corinna fell,

And he endow'd her with his art. But Cupid with a Satyr comes;

Both foftly to the cradle creep;

Both ftroke her hands, and rub her gums,

While the poor child lay faft afleep. Then Cupid thus; This little maid Of love shall always speak and write : And I pronounce (the Satyr faid)

The world fhall feel her scratch and bite. Her talent fhe difplay'd betimes;

For in twice twelve revolving moons She feem'd to laugh and squawl in rhymes, And all her geftures were lampoons. At fix years old the fubtle jade

Stole to the pantry-door, and found The butler with my lady's maid; And you may fwear the tale went round. She made a fong, how little mifs Was kifs'd and flobber'd by a lad; And how, when mafter went to p---, Mifs came, and peep'd at all he had.

At

At twelve a wit and a coquette;
Marries for love, half whore, half wife;
Cuckolds, elopes, and runs in debt;
Turns auth'refs, and is Curll's for life.
Her common-place book all gallant is,
Of fcandal now a cornucopia;
She pours it out in * Atalantis,
Or memoirs of the New Utopia.

* THE

QUIDNUNCKI'S:

A Tale occafion'd by the Death of the Duke
Regent of France.

How
HOW vain are mortal man's endea-

vours!

(Said, at † dame Elleot's, mafter Tr---s)
Good Orleans dead! in truth 'tis hard:
Oh! may all statesmen die prepar'd!
I do foresee (and for foreseeing
He equals any man in being)
The army ne'er can be difbanded.
I wish the king were fafely landed.

*The Atalantis was written by Mrs. Manley; and may be confidered as a pander for the ftews, who gains admittance into good company by a

genteel appearance, and good addrefs.

+ Coffee-house near St.

James's.

Ah

Ah friends! great changes threat the land!
All France and England at a stand!
There's Meroweis ---mark! ftrange work!
And there's the Czar, and there's the Turk---

The Pope- An India-merchant by
Cut fhort the fpeech with this reply:
All at a ftand? you fee great changes?
Ah, fir! you never faw the Ganges:
There dwells the nation of Quidnuncki's,
(So Monomotapa calls monkies :)

On either bank, from bough to bough,
They meet and chat (as we may now :)
Whispers go round, they grin, they shrug,
They bow, they fnarl, they scratch, they hug;
And, just as chance or whim provoke them,
They either bite their friends, or ftroke them.

There have I seen some active prig, To fhew his parts, beftride a twig : Lord! how the chatt'ring tribe admire! Not that he's wifer, but he's higher : All long to try the vent'rous thing, (For pow'r is but to have one's swing.) From fide to fide he fprings, he spurns, And bangs his foes and friends by turns. Thus as in giddy freaks he bounces, Crack goes the twig, and in he flounces! Down the swift ftream the wretch is borne; Never, ah never, to return! 3

Z---ds!

Z---ds! what a fall had our dear brother! Morbleu! cries one; and damme, t'other. The nation gives a gen'ral fcreech; None cocks his tail, none claws his breech; Each trembles for the publick weal, And for a while forgets to steal.

A while all eyes intent and steddy Pursue him whirling down the eddy: But, out of mind when out of view, Some other mounts the twig a-new; And bus'nefs on each monkey fhore Runs the fame track, it run before.

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Once on a time, near Channel-row Two hoftile adverbs, ay and no, Were haft'ning to the field of fight, And front to front ftood oppofite. Before each gen'ral join'd the van, Ay, the more courteous knight, began:

Channel-row is a dirty street near the parliament-house, Westminster.

Stop,

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