THE PROGRESS OF ADVICE.

A common Case.

Suade, nam certum est.

Advise it, for 'tis fix'd.

SAYS Richard to Thomas, (and seem'd half afraid) 'I am thinking to marry thy mistress's maid; Now, because Mrs. Lucy to thee is well known, I will do't if thou bid'st me, or let it alone.

Nay, don't make a jest on't; 'tis no jest to me; For faith I'm in earnest; so, prithee, be free. I have no fault to find with the girl since I knew

her;

But I'd have thy advice, ere I tie myself to her.'

Said Thomas to Richard, To speak my opinion, There is not such a bitch in King George's dominion; And I firmly believe, if thou knew'st her as I do, Thou wouldst choose out a whipping-post first to be tied to.

'She's peevish, she's thievish, she's ugly, she's old,

And a liar, and a fool, and a slut, and a scold.' Next day Richard hasten'd to church and was [said. And, ere night, had inform'd her what Thomas had

wed,

A BALLAD.

Trahit sua quemque voluptas.
Every one to his liking.

HOR.

FROM Lincoln to London rode forth our young

squire,

[mire ; To bring down a wife whom the swains might adBut in spite of whatever the mortal could say, The goddess objected the length of the way! To give up the opera, the park, and the ball, But to view the stag's horns in an old country hall; To have neither China nor India to see,

Nor a laceman to plague in a morning-not she!
To forsake the dear playhouse, Quin, Garrick, and
Clive,

Who by dint of mere humour had kept her alive;
To forego the full box for his lonesome abode,
O Heavens! she should faint, she should die on the
road.

To forget the gay fashions and gestures of France,
And to leave dear Auguste in the midst of the dance,
And Harlequin too!-'twas in vain to require it;
And she wonder'd how folks had the face to desire it.

She might yield to resign the sweet singers of Ruckholt,

Where the citizen matron seduces her cuckold; But Ranelagh soon would her footsteps recall, And the music, the lamps,and the glare of Vauxhall.

To be sure she could breathe no where else than in

town;

Thus she talk'd like a wit, and he look'd like a

clown;

But the while honest Harry despair'd to succeed, A coach with a coronet trail'd her to Tweed.

SLENDER'S GHOST.

VIDE SHAKSPEARE'S MERRY WIVES OF windsor.

BENEATH a church-yard yew,
Decay'd and worn with age,
At dusk of eve methought I spied
Poor Slender's Ghost, that whimpering cried,
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!

Ye gentle bards! give ear,

Who talk of amorous rage,

Who spoil the lily, rob the rose,
Come learn of me to weep your woes
O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!

Why should such labour'd strains
Your formal Muse engage?

I never dream'd of flame or dart,
That fired my breast or pierced my heart,
But sigh'd, "O sweet Anne Page !"

'And you! whose love-sick minds
No medicine can assuage,
Accuse the leech's art no more,
But learn of Slender to deplore;
O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!

And ye! whose souls are held
Like linnets in a cage,

Who talk of fetters, links, and chains,
Attend, and imitate my strains ;
O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!

And you! who boast or grieve
What horrid wars ye wage,
Of wounds received from many an eye,
Yet mean as I do, when I sigh,
"O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!"

Hence every fond conceit
Of shepherd or of sage;
"Tis Slender's voice, 'tis Slender's way,
Expresses all you have to say,
O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'

THE INVIDIOUS.

FROM MARTIAL.

O FORTUNE! if my prayer of old
Was ne'er solicitous for gold,
With better grace thou mayst allow
My suppliant wish, that asks it now:
Yet think not, goddess! I require it
For the same end your clowns desire it.

In a well-made effectual string

Fain would I see Lividio swing!

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

And he will tie the knot himself.

THE PRICE OF AN EQUIPAGE.

Servum si potes, Ole, non habere,
Et regem potes, Ole, non habere.

MART.

If thou from Fortune dost no servant crave,
thou no master need'st to have.'

Believe me,

I ASK'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! (says he) what! ha'n't you seen 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, (said I) where can it end? What madness has possess'd my friend? Four powder'd slaves, and those the tallest; Their stomachs, doubtless, not the smallest? Can Damon's revenue maintain,

In lace and food, so large a train?

I know his land-each inch of ground-
'Tis not a mile to walk it round-
If Damon's whole estate can bear
To keep his lad and one-horse chair,
I own 'tis past my comprehension.'-
'Yes, sir, but Damon has a pension.'-