CCCXXXVII.

THE PETTIFOGGER.

No cause nor client fat will Quillus leese,
But as they come on both sides, he takes fees!
And pleaseth both-for while he melts his

grease For this; that wins, for whom he holds his peace.

CCCXXXVIII.

ON ST. PETER'S CUTTING OFF MALCHUS'S EAR.

Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword,
Well for thyself I mean, not for thy Lord;
To strike at ears, is to take heed there be
No witness, Peter, to thy perjury.

CCCXXXIX.

STEERING BY THE TAIL.

As Sir Toby reel'd home, with his skin full of wine,

To his house in

Vine,

square, from his friends at the

He snuff'd the fresh air, and his noddle turn'd round;
He stagger'd-but gain'd not an inch of his ground.
Get home! quoth the knight: why, this ne'er can do,
If for one step gain'd forwards, I backwards reel two.
I'll return to the Vine.-So as one might suppose,
Sir Toby intended to follow his nose.

But this retrogade knight ne'er alter'd his pace,

And, gaining ground backwards, found out the right place.

The sot's mathematics at length did prevail,

And Sir Toby steer'd home, by the help of his tail.

CCCXL.

THE UNREASONABLE.

Fickle is vext at heart, he says, to see

His Lydia look on him so scurvily:

Thou art a most unconscionable man,

Would'st have the wench look better than she can ?

CCCXLI.

ON A MARRIED STATE.

The bed unchaste, the harlot's eye,

Awhile their captives may allure;

Beauty, and guiltless love supply
A passion always to endure.

Where hearts, by virtue warm'd, unite,
Fate throws its angry shafts in vain ;
This doubles ev'ry soft delight,

And lessens ev'ry woe and pain.

CCCXLII.

FROM THE FRENCH.

I die with sadness, if the blushing fair
These eyes adore, rejects her lover's prayer;
I die with transport, if her gentle ear
Is pleas'd her lover's soft complaint to hear.
How shall a wretch his fate contrive to shun,
Both by her rigour, and her smiles undone ?
Each I look,
I view my ruin sure,

way

Fall by the wound, or perish by the cure!

CCCXLIII.

ON APICIUS, WOUNDED IN HIS OLD AGE BY LOVE.

Hoary Apicius, like Sicilia's mount,

Tho' winter veils its venerable front,

Tho' its grave head is cover'd o'er with snow,

Yet labours with incessant fires below.

CCCXLIV.

TO AN OXFORD PHENOMENON.

Oxford, for all thy fops and smarts
Let this prodigious youth atone;
While others frisk, and dress at hearts,
He makes thy better part his own.
Yet small addition canst thou give,
Nature gave all her wealth before;

How little can this son receive!
How great already is his store.
Others advance by slow degrees,

Long, long they feed before they taste;
Their letters but with years encrease,

And good digestion comes the last.

But his vast mind completely form'd,
Was throughly finish'd when begun :
So all the world at once was warm'd
On the great birth-day of the sun,

CCCXLV.

AGE INCURABLE.

Phillis, you boast of perfect health in vain,
And laugh at those who of their ills complain:
That with a frequent fever Chloe burns,
And Stella's plumpness into dropsy turns.
O Phillis! while the patients are nineteen,
Little, alas! are their distempers seen.
But thou, for all thy seeming health art ill,
Beyond thy lover's hopes, or Reynold's skill:
No medicines can thy disease assuage,
I tell thee, 'tis incurable-'tis age.