And you whofe love-fick minds
No med'cine can affuage!
Accufe the leech's art no more,
But learn of SLENDER to deplore;

O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE!

And ye! whofe fouls are held,
Like linnets in a cage!

Who talk of fetters, links, and chains,
Attend, and imitate my strains!

O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE!

And

you who boaft or grieve, What horrid wars ye wage!

Of wounds receiv'd from many an eye;
Yet mean as I do, when I figh

O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE!

Hence ev'ry fond conceit

Of fhepherd or of fage!

'Tis SLENDER's voice, 'tis SLENDER'S way

Expreffes all you have to say.

O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE!

The

The INVIDIOUS.

MART.

Fortune! if my pray'r of old

Was ne'er follicitous for gold, With better grace thou may'ft allow My fuppliant wifh, that afks it now. Yet think not! goddefs! I require it For the fame end your clowns defire it.

In a well-made effectual string,
Fain wou'd I fee LIVIDIO fwing!

Hear him, from Tyburn's height haranguing,
But fuch a cur's not worth one's hanging.
Give me, O goddess! ftore of pelf,

And he will tye the knot, himseif.

The PRICE of an EQUIPAGE.

Servum fi potes, Ole, non habere

Et regem potes, Ole, non habere.

MAR.

I

Afk'd a friend, amidst the throng,

Whose coach it was that trail'd along : "The gilded coach there-don't ye mind?

That, with the footmen stuck behind."

O Sir!

O Sir! fays he, what! han't ye

feen it?

'Tis DAMON'S coach, and DAMON in it. 'Tis odd methinks you have forgot

Your friend, your neighbour and—what not! Your old acquaintance DAMON !“ True; But faith his equipage is new."

"Bless me, faid I, where can it end?
What madness has poffefs'd my friend?
Four powder'd flaves, and those the tallest
Their ftomachs doubtlefs not the fmalleft!
Can DAMON's revenue maintain

In lace and food, fo large a train?
I know his land-each inch o' ground-
'Tis not a mile to walk it round-
If DAMON's whole eftate can bear
To keep his lad, and one-horse chair,
I own 'tis paft my comprehenfion."
Yes, Sir, but DAMON has a penfion-
Thus does a falfe ambition rule us,
Thus pomp delude, and folly fool us;
To keep a race of flick'ring knaves,
He grows himself the worft of flaves.

HINT

L

HINT from VOITURE.

ET SOL his annual journeys run,

And when the radiant task is done,

Confefs, thro' all the globe, 'twou'd pose him,,

To match the charms that CELIA fhews him..

And fhou'd he boast he once had seen.
As just a form, as bright a mien,
Yet must it still for ever pose him,

To match-what CELIA never fhews him..

INSCRIPTIO N..

To the

memory

Of A. L. Efquire,

Juftice of the peace for this county: Who, in the whole courfe of his pilgrimage Thro' a trifling ridiculous world, Maintaining his proper dignity,

Notwithstanding the fcoffs of ill-difpos'd perfons, And wits of the age,

That ridicul'd his behaviour,

Or cenfur'd his breeding;

Following the dictates of nature,
Defiring to eafe the afflicted,

Eager to fet the prifoners at liberty,

Without

Without having for his end

The noise, or report fuch things generally caufe
In the world,

(As he was seen to perform them of none)
But the fole relief and happiness,

Of the party in diftrefs;

Himself refting easy,

When he cou'd render that fo;

Not griping, or pinching himself,
To hoard up fuperfluities;

Not coveting to keep in his poffeffion
What gives more difquietude, than pleasure;
But charitably diffusing it

To all round about him:

Making the moft forrowful countenance
To fmile,

In his presence;

Always bestowing more than he was afk'd,
Always imparting before he was defir'd;
Not proceeding in this manner,
Upon every trivial suggestion,

But the most mature, and folemn deliberation
With an incredible presence, and undauntedness
Of mind;

With an inimitable gravity and economy

Of face;

Bidding loud defiance

To politenefs and the fashion,

Dar'd let a f~t.

To