*A Gentle ECHO on WOMAN. In the Dorick Manner. Shepherd; E CHO, I ween, will in the Woods refly, And quaintly answer Queftion: Shall I try? Shepherd; What must we do our Paffion to express? Shepberd Echo Try. Echo; Prefs, Echo: Before, How fhall I please her who ne'er lov'd before? Shepherd; What most moves Women, when we them address ? Shepherd; Echo; A Drefs. Say what can keep her chafte, whom I adore? Shepherd; Echo; A Door, If Mufick foftens Rocks, Love tunes ny Lyre. Shepherd; Echo; Lyar! Then teach me, Echo, how fhall I come by her? Shepherd; Echo; Buy her. When bought, no question, I fhall be her Dear, Echo; Her Deer, Shepherd; Shepherd; But Deer have Horns; how must I keep her under? Shepherd; Echo; Keep ber under. Echo; Afe under. How fhall I hold her ne'er to part asunder ? Shepherd; But what can glad me when she's laid on Bier? Shepherd; Echo; Beer. What must I do, when Woman will be kind? Shepherd; Echo; Be kind, What must I do when Woman will be cross? Shepherd; Echo; Be cross. Lord what is fhe that can fo turn and wind? Shepherd; If she be Wind, what ftills her when the blows? Shepherd; Echo; Blows. But if the bang again, still fhou'd I bang her? Shepherd; Echo; Bange ber. Echo; Hang ber.. Is there no Way to moderate her Anger? Shepherd; Thanks, gentle Echo, right thy Answers tell, Echo; Guard her well. EPILOGUE to a Play, for the Benefit of the Weavers in Ireland. WHO HO dares affirm this is no pious Age, BUT whence this wond'rous Charity in Play'rs ? In Drugget dreft, of thirteen Pence a Yard, And And proud Roxana, fir'd with jealous Rage, OH! cou'd I fee this Audience clad in Stuff, Tho' Money's fcarce, we fhou'd have Trade enough: But Chints, Brocades, and Lace take all away, And scarce a Crown is left to fee a Play; Perhaps you wonder whence this Friendship springs Between the Weavers, and us Play-House Kings; But Wit and Weaving had the fame Beginning: Pallas first taught us Poetry and Spinning; And next observe how this Alliance fits, For Weavers now are just as poor as Wits; Their Brother Quill-men, Workers for the Stage, For forry Stuff can get a Crown a Page; But Weavers will be kinder to the Players, And fell for Twenty-pence a Yard of theirs. And, to your Knowledge, there is often lefs in The Poet's Wit, than in the Player's Dreffing. B EPITAPH on a MISER. ENEATH this verdant Hillock lies, P His Heirs, that he might fafely rest, To STELLA, who collected and tranfcribed his POEMS. A S when a lofty Pile is rais'd, We never hear the Workmen prais'd, So if this Pile of fcatter'd Rhymes THOU, Stella, wert no longer young, IN |