Let me fee that you look as deplorably fad,
As a rogue that's condemn'd, or a student run mad;
Seem as grave as a Bishop, and hang down your head,
Or indeed, I'll mount Jackfon to ride in your ftead.
Look yonder's another, a rogue of fine breeding,
Sits laughing and tittering as if at a wedding;
You rag-manners fure, you believe, by my Soul,
That this folemn funeral's acting a droll.
You fimp'ring ninny, cou'd I but get near ye,
I'd teach your thin jaws to be jocund and merry;
You fool, bite your lips, look diftrefs'd and forlorn,
I fhou'd think that your wages wou'd cause you to mourn.
You hard-hearted Cur, not a jot of good nature
Or pity, to fhew to a dead fellow creature;
If cold death and hunger won't make you fedate,
And ftifle thofe whimfies you've got in your pate,
Pray think of your fins and the great conflagration,
Or that Sodom's judgments hang over the Nation;
Or fancy the French, by the Jacobite's knavery,
Are bringing us all into popery and slavery.
Do any thing rather than laugh to disgrace
The folemnity thus with a Harlequin face;
One wou'd think that a man of your years, and dif
[feffion
Shou'd at least have more wit than to blaft the pro
Then look grave and fad, or I vow and proteft,
Tho' We know it's all Farce--fhou'd you make it a jeft,
I'll ftrip your cloak over your ears in the morning ;)
By G--d, Sir, I will, fo take this for a warning.
Then again you may deal in your poisonous baits,
And live as before by deftroying of rats;
Or by fweeping of kennels for old iron or brass;
Or by carrying of hog's-wafh in pails on an Afs.
Here you Mr. Coney -come hither I pray,
Give me an account what you've eaten to-day;
I'm afraid you've been stuffing your carcafe with
pudding,
Which makes you appear fo improv'd on a fudder.
You look as prepofterously plump in the cheek,
As if fed with good beef at least three times a week;
Who when first you came to us, was both pale and
meagre,
And made fuch an excellent fceleton figure,
That all men admir'd thee that e'er faw thee ride,
As the most complete mourner we ever employ'd;
But now I perceive by your jaws, let me tell ye,
That of late you have made a meer God of your belly.
Nay. I have heard in three days you are grown fuch
[ton;
As to cram down a pound of good beef or good mut-
But Sir, if you think to continue your poft, [toaft.
You must keep to small beer, Suffolk cheese, and a
Three days in a week you may eat fuch a dinner,
And then faft and pray like a penitent finner;
Or else half your wages I'll certainly 'bate,
To keep down your Corps to a mourning eftate.
Pray therefore take care you recover next week
Thofe forrowful dents now fill'd up in your cheek;
Or return to your ftand, that curs'd trade to fupport,
And pimp at the bottom of Salisbury Court.
Well!--now keep your due diftance, and filently stand
Till I come to give you fome farther command;
And bring into order yon fcoundrels and knaves,
To advance and make ready their torches and staves.
Light up your wax tapers, be nimble, make haste,
Take particular care that they burn not too fast;
And the Man that returns with the longest remains,
Shall have two-pence for care, and his ten-pence for
pains.
Now obferve what I fay without farther inspection,
And poft yourselves all as I give you direction;
From the places allotted depart not an inch,
Nor let any man dare from his duty to flinch.
[fide, You must one of you walk close by each horfeman's With your light kept in motion, your arm stretch'd
Thus the Mourners will feem, when confused the light,
Like Devils transform'd into Angels of light.
Let three more take poft on each fide of the Corfe,
And look with prodigious concern and remorse;
To give light to the 'fcutcheons for people to ftare at,
As we're paffing along, from Balcony or Garret.
Who affected with grief at the scene melancholy,
Shall praise and admire the vain-glorious folly;
And decently whisper in each other's ear,
To the fame of us all, what a fine Burying's here!
Before each set of horfes let two flowly move,
And two more for the ufe of each Coachman above;
Alfo two crawl along by the doors of each Coach,
Leaft for want of attendance we fuffer reproach.
SoLook now all as wretched and full of despair
As if you were flaves to the Prince of the Air;
For there's nothing can give a more fuitable grace,
To the funeral pomp, than a forrowful face.
The coffin heav'd into the Death-hunter's waggon
And every one pofted in order to jog on;
Eagle moves to the 'front of the funeral band,
And gave his Black Guard the laft word of command.
Befure to keep even your ranks and your files,
To march a fnail's pace to the Church of St. Giles
Whilst I to the Devil well pleas'd bend my way,
To drown in good Port the fatigue of the day.
HEN dawning rays refulgent streak the
ikies,
At once we view, with pleasure and furprize,
The op'ning lights diffufive joys impart,
While beauties ftrike the eye, and glad the heart:
At length in glory Phebus felf appears,
And with his kindly warmth and influence cheers.
With equal luftre your perfections raise,
Efteem, delight, astonishment and praise.
Sublime with native force, your fancy leads,
And as your genius flows, in ev'ry art fucceeds;
While others languid, and fupinely move,
Nor raise our wonder, nor create our love.
Proceed, fair pattern of accomplish'd fenfe,
For Virtue charms, and Actions influence.
When notes concordant meet, untouch'd the ftring
Compulfive vibrates, and attempts to fing:
So urg'd by Fame, by your example led,
Shall crouds of Fair within your footsteps tread.
Reform the fex's darling love of ease,
And animate them like yourself to please;
Then fhall their pow'r indeed extensive sway,
And men instead of them be taught t'obey:
Easy's the yoke when merit claims regard,
And fweet the toil when pleafyre's the reward:
Maintain the right by nature you poffefs,
To govern whom you please as well as blefs.
To few difcerning faculties are giv'n,
Such are peculiar favourites of Heav'n;
Superior thoughts their intellectuals raife,
Superior blifs attends their happy days;
With paffions undisturb'd their minutes roll,
While pleafure chears the heart, and knowledge feasts
the foul.
Where shall we find another bleft by Heav'n, How rare are fuch diftinguish'd talents giv❜n; While others climb with pain---at your commands The Muses throng to lend their willing hands; Each Sifter emulous the toil endures, Contributes all her pow'r to join with Hence with united aid your mind afpires, And what it once conceives, with cafe acquires.]
Replete with harmony (by Heav'n defign'd The darling feaft and banquet of the mind) How great your skill! who can fo fure controul The rough emotions of the active foul: Like Orpheus draw th'amazing croud to hear, And fix 'em with a look, more furely, there.
Oh, happy Fair! by Fate ordain'd to know,
All that can give delight to those below;
By birth enobled, and to wit allied,
But ftrangely diftant and remote from pride;
Free from the cares of life, but what attend
The kind indulgence of a faithful friend:
Void of ambition, but what tends to prove,
The generous fentiments for those you love.
(Forgive the freedom, you might justly blame,
But Friend to you and Virtue is the fame)
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