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When she comes in my way, the motion, the pain,
The leapings, the achings, return all again.

O wonderful creature ! a woman of reason !
Never grave out of pride, never gay out of season !
When so easy to guess who this angel should be,
Would one think Mrs. Howard ne'er dreamt it was

she ?

BALLAD.

Of all the girls that e'er were seen,

There's none so fine as Nelly,
For charming face and shape and mien,

And what's not fit to tell ye:
Oh! the turu'd neck, and smooth white skin

Of lovely dearest Nelly !
For many a swain it well had been

Had she ne'er pass’d by Calais.

For when, as Nelly came to France

(Invited by her cousins)
Across the Thuilleries each glance

Kill'd Frenchmen by whole dozens :
The king, as he at dinner sat,

Did beckon to his hussar,
And bid him bring his tabby cat,

For charming Nell' to buss hier.

The ladies were with rage provok'd

To see her so respected :
The men look'd arch, as Nelly strok'd,

And puss her tail erected.

But not a man did look employ,

Except on pretty Nelly,
Then said the duke de Villeroy,

Ah! qu'elle est bien jolie !

But who's that grave pbilosopher,

That carefully looks a'ter ?
By his concern it should appear,

The fair one is his daughter.
Ma foy! (quoth then a courtier sly)

He on his child does leer too;
I wish he has no mind to try

What some papas will here do.

The courtiers all with one accord

Broke out in Nelly's praises, Admir'd her rose, and lys sans farde

(Which are your termes francoises.) Then might you see a painted ring

Of dames that stood by Nelly: She, like the pride of all the spring,

And they like fleurs de palais.

In Marli's gardens, and St. Clou,

I saw this charming Nelly, Where shameless nymphs, expos'd to view

Stand naked in each alley : But Venus had a brazen face,

Both at Versailles and Meudon, Or else she had resign'd her place,

And left the stone she stood on.

Were Nelly's figure mounted there,

"Twould put down all th' Italian :

Lord ! how those foreigners would stare !

But I should turn Pygmalion ;
For, spite of lips, and eyes, and mien,

Me nothing can delight so,
As does that part that lies between

Her left toe and her right toe.

ODE FOR MUSIC.

ON THE LONGITUDE.

RECITATIVO,

The longitude iniss'd on
By wicked Will Whiston;
And not better hit on
By good master Ditton.

RITORNELLO.

So Ditton and Whiston
May both be bep-st on;
And Whiston and Ditton
May both be besh-t on.

Sing Ditton,

Besh-t on;

And Whiston,
Bep-st on.

Sing Ditton and Whiston,

And Whiston and Ditton,

Besb-t and bep-st on,

Bep-st and besh-t op.

DA CAPO.

EPIGRAM

ON THE FEUDS ABOUT HANDEL AND BONONCINI.

STRANGE! all this difference should be
*Twixt Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-DEE!

ON MRS. TOFTS.*

So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song,
As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along:
But such is thy av’rice, and such is thy pride,
That the beasts must have starv'd, and the poet have

died.

* Mrs. Tofts was the daughter of a person in the family of Dr. Burnet, bishop of Salisbury. She lived at the introduction of the opera into this kingdom, and sang in company with Nicolini; but, being ignorant of Italian, chanted her recitative in English, in answer to his Italian: but the charms of their voices overcame this absurdity Her character may be collected from the above epigram. She retired from England, and died at Venice about the year 1760. N.

1

TWO OR THREE :

OR, A RECEIPT TO MAKE A CUCKOLD.

Two or three visits, and two or three bows,
Two or three civil things, two or three vows,
Two or three kisses, with two or three sighs,
Two or three JEsuses and LET-ME-DIES,
Two or three squeezes, or two or three towzes,
(With two or three thousand pound lost at their houses)
Can never fail cuckolding two or three spouses.

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WHEN Israel's daughters mourn'd their past offences,
They dealt in sackcloth, and turn'd cinder.wenches :
But Richmond's fair opes never spoil their locks ;
They use white powder, and wear Holland smocks.
O coinely church! where females find clean linen
As decent to repent in, as to sin in.

THE BALANCE OF EUROPE.

Now Europe's balanc’d, neither side prevails :
For nothing's left in either of the scales.

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