First then for custards,

my dear Mary,

The produce of your dainty dairy,

For ftew'd, for bak'd, for boil'd, for roaft,
And all the teas and all the toast;

With thankful tongue and bowing attitude,
I here prefent you with my gratitude :
Next for your apples, pears and plumbs
Acknowledgment in order comes;

For wine, for ale, for fowl, for fish—for
Ev'n all one's appetite can wish for:
But O ye pens and, O ye pencils,
And all ye fcribbling utenfils,

Say in what words and in what metre,
Shall unfeign'd admiration greet her,
For that rich banquet fo refin'd
Her converfation gave the mind;
The folid meal of fenfe and worth,
Set off by the defert of mirth;
Wit's fruit and pleasure's genial bowl,

And all the joyous flow of foul;

For thefe, and every kind ingredient

That form'd your love-your most obedient.

To the Rev. Mr. POWELL, on the Non-performance of a Promise he made the Author of a Hare.

FRIEND, with regard to this fame hare,

Am I to hope, or to defpair?

By

By punctual poft the letter came,

With P***LL's hand, and P***LL's name:
Yet there appear'd, for love or money,
Nor hare, nor leveret, nor coney.
Say, my dear Morgan, has my lord,
Like other great ones kept his word?
Or have you been deceiv'd by 'fquire ?
Or has your poacher loft his wire ?
Or in fome unpropitious hole,
Inftead of pufs, trepann'd a mole?
Thou valiant fon of great Cadwallader,

Haft thou a hare, or haft thou fwallow'd her?
But, now, me thinks, I hear you say,
(And shake your head) "Ah, well-a-day!.
"Painful pre-em'nence to be wife,
"We wits have fuch fhort memories.
"Oh, that the act was not in force!
"A horse !-my kingdom for a horfe!-
"To love-yet be deny'd the fport!
"Oh! for a friend or two at court!
"God knows, there's scarce a man of quality
"In all our peerless principality-

But hold for on his country joking, To a warm Welchman's most provoking.. As for poor puss, upon my honour, I never fet my heart upon her. But any gift from friend to friend, Is pleafing in it's aim and end.

I, like the cock, wou'd fpurn a jewel,
Sent by th' unkind, th' unjaft, and cruel.
But honeft P***LL !. Sure from him

A barley-corn wou'd be a gem.
Pleas'd therefore had I been, and proud,.
And prais'd thy generous heart aloud,
If 'ftead of hare (but do not blab it)
You'd fent me only a Welch rabbit..

The SICK

MONKEY..

Epigram I.

A Lady fent lately for one Doctor Drug,

To come in an instant, and clyfter poor Pug-
As the fair one commanded he came at the word,
And did the grand office in tie-wig and fword.

The affair being ended, so sweet and so nice!

He held out his hand with "you-know, ma'am, my price."

66

"Your price," fays the lady-" Why, Sir, he's your

"brother,

"And doctors must never take fees of each other."

APOLLO and

DAPHNE.

Epigram II.

WHEN Phoebus was amʼrous, and long'&to be rude,

Mifs Daphne cry'd pifh! and ran fwift to the wood,

And

And rather than do fuch a naughty affair,
She became a fine laurel to deck the god's hair.

The nymph was be fure of a cold constitution,
To be turn'd to a tree was a strange refolution;
But in this fhe refembled a true modern fpoufe,
For fhe fled from his arms to diftinguish his brows.

The MISER and the MOUSE.

Epigram III. (From the Greek.)

To a Moufe fays a Mifer, « my dear Mr. Mouse,

Pray what may you please for to want in my house ?" Says the Moufe," Mr. Mifer, pray keep yourfelf quiet,. "You are fafe in your perfon, your purfe, and your diet: "A lodging I want, which ev'n you may afford, "But none wou'd come here to beg, borrow, or board."

Epigram IV.

On a Woman who was finging Ballads for Money to bury her Husband.

OR her Hufband deceas'd, Sally chants the fweet lay,
Why, faith, this is fingular forrow;

But (I doubt) fince the fings for a dead man to-day,
She'll cry for a live one to-morrow.

Το

To the Right Hon. EARL of DARLINGTON, on his being appointed Paymafter of his Majefty's Forces.

"The royal hand, my Lord, fhall raise

"To nobler heights thy name;

"Who praises thee fhall meet with praise,
"Ennobled in thy fame.

SMART'S ODE.

WHAT the prophetic muse foretold is true,

And royal juftice gives to worth its due;
The Roman spirit now breathes forth again,
And Virtue's temple leads to honour's fane;
But not alone to thee this grant extends,
Nor in thy rife great Brunswick's goodness ends:
Whoe'er has known thy hofpitable dome,
Where each glad gueft ftill finds himself at home:
Whoe'er has feen the numerous poor that wait
To blefs thy bounty at the expanded gate;
Whoe'er has feen thee general joy impart,
And fmile away chagrin from every heart,
All these are happy-pleasure reigns confeft,
And thy profperity makes thoufands bleft.

On