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Oh! not with half that warmth and life,
With which he kifs'd Amphitryon's wife.

Well then, things handsomely were ferv'd: '
My mistress for the ftrangers carv'd.
How strong the beer, how good the meat,
How loud they laugh'd, how much they eat,
In epic fumptuous would appear;
Yet fhall be pass'd in filence here:
For I should grieve to have it faid,
That, by a fine defcription led,
I made my episode too long,

Or tir'd my friend, to grace my fong.
The grace-cup ferv'd, the cloth away,
Jove thought it time to fhew his play :
Landlord and landlady, he cried,
Folly and jefting laid afide,

That ye thus hofpitably live,

your

:

debtors.

And strangers with good chear receive,
Is mighty grateful to your betters,
And makes e'en gods themselves
To give this thefis plainer proof,
You have to-night beneath your roof
A pair of gods (nay never wonder):
This youth can fly, and I can thunder.
I'm Jupiter, and he Mercurius,
My page, my fon indeed, but fpurious.
Form then three wishes, you and Madam ;
And fure as you already had 'em,

The things defir'd, in half an hour,
Shall all be here, and in your power.

Thank

Thank you, great gods, the woman fays:

Oh! may your altars ever blaze!

A Ladle for our filver-difh

Is what I want, is what I wish.

A Ladle cries the man, a Ladle !
Odzooks, Corifca, you have pray'd ill;
What should be great, you turn to farce;
I wish the Ladle in
your a-.

With equal grief and fhame, my Mufe
The fequel of the Tale purfues;
The Ladle fell into the room,
And stuck in old Corifca's bum.
Our couple weep two wishes past,
And kindly join to form the last ;
To ease the woman's aukward pain,
And get the Ladle out again.

MOR A L.

THIS commoner has worth and parts,

Is prais'd for arms, or lov'd for arts =

His head aches for a coronet :

And who is blefs'd that is not great?

Some fenfe, and more eftate, kind Heaven
To this well-lotted peer has given:
What then? He must have rule and sway:
And all is wrong, till he 's in play.

The mifer muft make up his plumb,
And dares not touch the hoarded fum;
The fickly dotard wants a wife,
To draw off his laft dregs of life.

Against

Against our peace we arm our will:
Amidft our plenty, fomething ftill
For horfes, houses, pictures, planting,
To thee, to me, to him, is wanting.
The cruel fomething unpoffefs'd
Corrodes, and leavens all the rest.
That fomething, if we could obtain,
Would foon create a future pain:
And to the coffin, from the cradle,
'Tis all a Wish, and all a Ladle.

Written at PARIS, 1700.

In the Beginning of ROBE'S GEOGRAPHY.

Fall that William rules, or Robe

OF

Describes, great Rhéa, of thy globe;

When or on post-horse, or in chaise,
With much expence, and little ease,
My deftin'd miles 1 fhall have gone,
By Thames or Maefe, by Po or Rhone,
And found no foot of earth my own;
Great Mother, let me once be able
To have a garden, houfe, and stable ;
That I may read, and ride, and plant,
Superior to defire or want;

And as health fails, and years increase,
Sit down, and think, and die, in peace.
Oblige thy favourite undertakers

To throw me in but twenty acres :

}

This number fure they may allow ;
For pafture ten, and ten for plow :
'Tis all that I could wish or hope,
For me and John, and Nell and Crop.
Then, as thou wilt, difpofe the rest
(And let not Fortune fpoil the jeft)
To those who, at the market-rate,
Can barter honour for estate.

Now, if thou grant'ft me iny requcft,
To make thy votary truly bleft,
Let curst revenge and faucy pride
To fome bleak rock far off be tied;
Nor e'er approach my rural feat,
To tempt me to be bafe and great.

And, Goddess, this kind office done,
Charge Venus to command her fon
(Where-ever elfe fhe lets him rove)
To fhun my house, and field, and grove:
Peace cannot dwell with Hate or Love.
Hear, gracious Rhéa, what I say:
And thy petitioner shall pray.

Written in the Beginning of ME ZERAY'S
History of FRANCE.

I.

WHATE'ER thy countrymen have done,

By law and wit, by fword and gun,

In thee is faithfully recited :

And all the living world, that view
Thy work, give thee the praifes due,

At once inftructed and delighted.

}

II. Yet

II.

Yet for the fame of all these deeds

What beggar in the Invalides,

With lameness broke, with blindness fmitten, Wish'd ever decently to die,

To have been either Mezeray,

Or any monarch he has written ?

III.

It's ftrange, dear author, yet it true is,
That, down from Pharamond to Louis,
All covet life, yet call it pain;
All feel the ill, yet fhun the cure :
Can fenfe this paradox endure ?

Refolve me, Cambray, or Fontaine.

IV.

The man, in graver tragick known
(Though his best part long fince was done),
Still on the stage defires to tarry :
And he, who play'd the Harlequin,
After the jeft ftill loads the fcene,
Unwilling to retire, though weary.

Written in the Nouveaux Interêts des
PRINCES de l'EUROPE.

BLEST be the princes, who have fought

For pompous names, or wide dominion; Since by their error we are taught,

That happiness is but opinion!

ADRIANI

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