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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.
HERE continueth to ro
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
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
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
JOHANNES jacet bìc Mirandula-(alera nórunt
APPLIED TO F. C.
HERE Francis Chartres lies *-be civil!
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.
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,
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
ON THE TOASTS OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB,
WHENCE deathless Kit-Cat took its name,
Few criticks can unriddle :
And some, from cat and FIDDLE.
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,
and I'll renounce the other.