XXXVIII.

SAMPSON IMITATED.

Jack, eating rotten cheese, did say,
Like Sampson, I my thousands slay:
I vow, quoth Roger, so you do,
And with the self-same weapon too.

XXXIX.

THE RATIONAL REQUEST.

Give me, great monarch, pounds five-score,
For meat and books-I ask no more.
Or-keep the books, and give me meat-
For some folks read, but all must eat.

XL.

ON ***, POEt and cutler.

Vulcan, they say, made mighty arms for Mars, (Cuckolds are kind) but he ne'er made a verse: Apollo he made verses, but in's life,

I never heard that e'er he made a knife.

Now *** does all that both these gods could do, Hammers out verses, and hard iron too.

XLI.

TO A LADY WHO VALUED HERSELF FOR HER SINCERITY.

Well you sincerity display

A virtue wondrous rare!

Nor value, tho' the world should say
You're rude, so you're sincere.

To be sincere, then, give me leave,
And I will frankly own,

Since you but this one virtue have,
'Twere better you had none.

XLII.

TO A LADY, WITH A PRESENT OF FRUIT.

Tho' the plumb, and the peach, with Apollo conspire, To present you their softness, and sweetness, and fire, Their aid is in vain; for what can they do,

But blush, and confess themselves vanquish'd in you?

20

Where virtue and wit with such qualities blend
What mortal, what goddess, would dare to contend!

XLIII.

TO VALGIUS, REFUSING TO SUP WITH ME.

Valgius, the gen'rous, and the wise,
If ask'd to sup with me, denies ;

"He can't, in conscience, sup or dine,

With one whose income's small as mine."

Ye pow'rs! believe me when I vow
I never wish'd for wealth till now;
'Tis death to want the means to spend,
But, oh! 'tis more to want a friend.

XLIV.

THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.

Ancient Phyllis has new graces;

'Tis a strange thing, but a true one;

Shall I tell you how?

She herself makes her own faces,

And each morning wears a new one,

Where's the wonder now?

XLV.

THE WITTY WANTON.

Cry'd Strephon panting in Cosmelia's arms,

I die, bright nymph, I die amidst your charms! "Alas! cheer up, poor youth," said she,

Dissolv'd in amorous pain,

"All flesh must die, by Fate's decree, "Ere it can rise again."

XLVI.

OBLIGATION CANCELLED.

To John I ow'd great obligation,
But John unhappily thought fit,

To publish it to all the nation:

Sure John and I are more than quit.

XLVII.

THE ORIGIN OF RANK.

That all from Adam first begun,

Sure none but ***** doubts;

And that his son and his son's son,
Were plowmen, clowns, and lauts.
Here lies the only diff'rence now,
Some went off late, some soon;
Your sires i' th' morning left the plow,
And ours i' th' afternoon.

XLVIII.

BOTH RIGHT.

Says Richard to Joe, thou'rt a very sad dog,
And thou canst write verses no more than a log.
Says Joseph to Dick, prithee, ring-rhime, get hence,
Sure my verses at least are as good as thy sense!
Was e'er such a contest recorded in song ?
The one's in the right, the other's not wrong.

XLIX.

A STRIKING SIMILE.

Chloe, a jilt while in her prime,

The vainest, ficklest thing alive,