The Works of the English Poets

The good old dame, ravish'd out-right,
Ev'n doated on fo gay a fight;

Her Frank, as glorious as the morn;
Poor Numps was look'd upon with scorn.
With other eyes the yeoman fage
Beheld each youth; nought could engage
His wary and difcerning heart,
But fterling worth and true defert.
At laft, he could no longer bear
Such ftrange fophifticated ware;
He cries (enrag'd at this odd fcene)
"What can this foolish coxcomb mean,
"Who, like a pedlar with his pack,
"Carries his riches on his back?

"Soon fhall this blockhead fink my rents,
"And alienate my tenements,

"Which long have stood in good repair, "Nor funk, nor rofe, from heir to heir;

"Still the fame rent without advance,

"Since the Black Prince first conquer'd France: alas! all must be loft,

"But now,

"And all my prudent projects croft.

"Brave honeft race! Is it thus then

"We dwindle into gentlemen?

"But I'll prevent this foul difgrace,
"This butterfly from hence I'll chace."
He faddles Ball without delay,
To London town directs his way;
There at the Heralds Office he
Took out his coat, and paid his fee,
And had it cheap, as wits agree.

A

A lion rampant, stout and able,
Argent the field, the border fable;

The gay efcutcheon look'd as fine,
As new-daub'd country fign.
any

will be

Thus having done what he decreed,
Home he returns with all his fpeed:
"Here, fon," said he, "fince you
"A gentleman in spight of me;
"Here, fir, this gorgeous bauble take,
"How well it will become a rake!
"Be what you feem: this is your share;
"But honeft Numps shall be my heir;
"To him I'll leave my whole estate,
"Left my brave race degenerate."

THE

НАРРУ

LUNATICK:

To Doctor M. A TAL E.

WHEN faints were cheap in good Nol's reign,

As finners now in Drury-Lane;

Wrapt up in myfteries profound,
A faint perceiv'd his head turn round:
'hether the sweet and favoury wind,
nat should have been discharg'd behind,
r want of vent had upward fled,
nd feiz'd the fortrefs of his head;
fage philofophers, debate:

ve no problems intricate.

he was mad, to me is clear,

why should he, whofe nicer ear uld never bear church-mufick here,

Hoil.

Dd 2

Dream

Dream that he heard the bleft above,
Chanting in hymns of joy and love?
Organs themselves, which were of yore
The mufick of the fcarlet whore,
Are now with transport heard. In fine,
Ravish'd with harmony divine,

All earthly bleffings he defies,
The guest and favourite of the skies.
At laft, his too officious friends
The doctor call, and he attends :
The patient cur'd, demands his fee.
"Curfe on thy farting pills and thee,”
Reply'd the faint: "ah! to my coft
"I'm cur'd: but where 's the heaven I loft?
"Go, vile deceiver, get thee hence,
"Who'd barter Paradife for fenfe?"
Ev'n fo bemus'd (that is, poffeft),
With raptures fir'd, and more than bleft;
In pompous epick, towering odes,
I ftrut with heroes, feaft with gods;
Enjoy by turns the tuneful quire,
For me they touch each golden lyre.
Happy delufion! kind deceit !