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SHEPHERD. But deer have horns; how must I keep her under?

Echo. Keep her under. SHEPHERD. How shall I hold her, ne'er to part asunder?

Echo. A-se under. SHEPHERD. But what can glad me, when she's laid on bier ?

Echo. Beer. SHEPHERD. What must I do, when woman will be kind?

Echo. Be kind. SHEPHERD. What must I do, when woman will be cross?

Echo. Be cross. SHEPHERD. Lord, what is she, that can so turn and wind?

Echo. Wind. SHEPHERD. If she be wind, what stills her when she blows?

Echo. Blows. SHEPHERD. But, if she bang again, still should I bang her?

Echo. Bang her. SHEPHERD. Is there no way to moderate her anger?

Echo. Hang her. SHEPHERD. Thanks, gentle Echo! right thy answers tell What woman is, and how to guard her well.

Echo. Guard her well.

EPITAPH.

EPITAPH.

HERE continueth to ro
The body of FRANCIS CHAR
Who, with an INFLEXIBLE CONS
and INIMITABLE UNIFORMITY

PERSISTED,
In spite of age and INFIRMI
In the practice of EVERY HUMA

Excepting PRODIGALITY and hyo His insatiable AVARICE exempted him

His matchless IMPUDENCE from tl

Nor was he more singular in the unde of his manners, than successful in a

WEALTH :
For, without trade or PROFE
Without TRUST of PUBLICK M
And without BRIBE-WORTHY SI
He acquired, or more properly

A MINISTERIAL ESTATE,

He was the only person of his Who could cheat without the mask Retain his primeval MEANNESS when

TEN THOUSAND a year ; And, having daily deserved the GIBBET Í

Was at last condemned to it for wh

not do.

O indignant reader ! Think not his life useless to mankind ! PROVIDENCE connived at his execrable designs, To give to after ages a conspicuous PROOF and

EXAMPLE Of how small estimation is exoRBITANT WEALTH in

the sight of

GOD,
By his bestowing it on the most unworthy of

ALL MORTALS,

JOHANNES jacet bìc Mirandula-(alera nórunt
Et Tagus et Ganges-forsàn et Antipodes.

APPLIED TO F. C.

HERE Francis Chartres lies *-be civil!
The rest God knows-perhaps the Devil.

EPIGRA M.

PETER complains, that God has given

To his poor babe a life so short: Consider, Peter, he's in Heaven;

'Tis good to have a friend at court.

ANOTHER.

YOU beat your pate, and fancy wit will come: Knock as you please, there's nobody at home. * Thus applied by Mr. Pope : « Here lies lord Coningsby.”

EPITAPH OF BY-WORI

HERE lies a round woman, who thoug Ev'ry word she e'er heard in this church To convince her of God the good deand But still in her heart she held Nature me Tho' he talk'd much of virtue, her head Upon something or other she found bet For the dame, by her skill in affairs asti Imagin’d, to live in the clouds was but In this world she despis’d ev'ry soul she And now she's in t'other, she thinks it

EPIGRAM FROM THE FRI

SIR, I admit your gen’ral rule,
That ev'ry poet is a fool :
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.

EPITAPH.

WELL then, poor G-lies under 8

So there's an end of honest Jack. So little justice here he found,

'Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back

EPIGRAM

ON THE TOASTS OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB,

ANNO 1716.

WHENCE deathless Kit-Cat took its name,

Few criticks can unriddle :
Some say from PASTRYCOok it came,

And some, from cat and FIDDLE.
From no trim beaux its name it boasts,

Gray statesmen, or green wits ; But from this pellmell pack of toasts

Of old cats and young KITS.

TO A LADY,

WITH THE TEMPLE OF FAME.

WHAT'S fame with men, by custom of the nation,
Is call’d, in women, only reputation:
About them both why keep we such a pother ?
Part
you with

one,

and I'll renounce the other.

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