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EPITAPH.

IHERE continueth to rot
The body of FRANCIS CHARTRES;
Who, with an INFLEXIBLE constancy,
and INIMITABLE UNIForMity of life,
PERSISTED, -
In spite of AGE and INFIRMITIES,

In the practice of every HUMAN vice,

Excepting ProDIGALITY and Hypocrisy : His insatiable Av ARice exempted him from the first;

His matchless IMPUDENCE from the second.

Nor was he more singular in the undeviating pravity *
of his manners, than successful in accumulating
WEALTH:
For, without TRADE or PRofession,
Without TRUST of PUBLIck Money,
And without BRIBE-wo RTHY service,
He acquired, or more properly created, 1
A MINISTERIAL ESTATE.

He was the only person of his time Who could che AT without the mask of Honesty; Retain his primeval MeANNEss when possessed of TEN THous AND a year; And, having daily deserved the Gibbet for what he did, Was at last condemned to it for what he could 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 Exorbit ANT wealTH in the sight of GOD, By his bestowing it on the most unworthy of ALL MORTAL8.

3OHANNES jacet hic Mirandula—caetera nirunt Et Tagus et Ganges—forsån et Antipodes.

APPLIED To F.C.

HeRE Francis Chartres lies *-be civil I
The rest God knows—perhaps the Devil.

EPIGRAM.

Peron 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.

t

EPITAPH OF BY-WORDS.

Here lies around woman, who thought mighty odd Ev'ry word she e'er heard in this church about God, To convince her of God the good Dean did endeavour; But still in her heart she held Nature more clever.

* Thus applied by Mr. Pope: “Here lies lord Coningsby.” H.

Tho' he talk'd much of virtue, her head always run
Upon something or other she found better fun:
For the dame, by her skill in affairs astronomical,
Imagin'd, to live in the clouds was but comical.
In this world she despis'd ev'ry soul she met here;
And now she's in tother, she thinks it but queer.

EPIGRAM FROM THE FRENCH.

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But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.

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Well then, poor G-lies under ground!
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

or THE TO ASTS OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB. ANNo 1716.

Whence deathless kit-cat took its name,
Few criticks can unriddle:
Some say from PASTRY cook 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.

VERSES

To be placed under the Picture of England's Arch Poet, [sir

Richard Blackmore, containing a complete Catalogue of his Works.

See who ne'er was or will be half read!
Who first sung Arthur *, then sung Alfred to
Prais'd great Eliza f in God's anger,
Till all true Englishmen cried, Hang her
Made William's virtues wipe the bare a—,
And hanged up Marlborough in arras I :
Then, hiss'd from earth, grew heavenly quite:
Made every reader curse the light || ; -
Maul'd human wit, in one thick satire $;
Next in three books sent Human Nature **;
Undid Creation ++ at a jerk;
And of Redemption of made damn'd work.
Then took his Muse, at once, and dipp'd her
Full in the middle of the Scripture:
What wonders there the man grown old did
Sternhold himself he out-Sternholded;
Made David $$ seem so mad and freakish,
All thought him just what thought king Achish.

* Two heroick poems in folio, twenty books. + An heroick poem, in twelve books. 1 An heroick poem in folio, ten books. • Instructions to Vanderbank, a tapestry weaver. ! Hymn to the Light. Satire against Wit. ** Of the Nature of Man. +t Creation, a poem, in seven books. The Redeemer, another heroick poem, in six books. # Translation of all the Psalms.

WOL., XXIV. H

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