Wife pug with comely buttocks fate,
And nodded o'er the laws,
Diftinguish'd well through the debate,
And thus adjudg'd the cause :
The goods are ftole, but not from thee,
Two pickled rogues well met,
Thou shalt be hang'd for perjury,
He for an errant cheat.
Hang both, judicious brute, 'twas bravely faid,
May villains always to their ruin plead !
When knaves fall out, and fpitefully accuse,
There's nothing like the reconciling noose.
O hemp! the noblest gift propitious heaven
To mortals with a bounteous hand has given,
To stop malicious breath, to end debate,
Το prop the shaking throne, and purge the state.
Delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi,
"Seditione, dolis, fcelere, atque libidine & irâ
"Iliacos intra muros, peccatur, & extra."
OWSER, of right Hockleian fire,
A dog of mettle and of fire,
With Urfin grim, an errant bear,
Maintain'd a long and dubious war:
Oft Urfin on his back was toft,
And Towfer many a collop loft
Capricious Fortune would declare,
Now for the dog, then for the bear.
Thus having try'd their courage fairly,
Brave Urfin firft defir'd a parly;
Stout combatant (quoth he) whose might
I've felt in many a bloody fight,
Tell me the cause of all this pother,
And why we worry one another?
That's a moot point, the cur reply'd,
Our masters only can decide.
While thee and I our hearts blood spill,
They prudently their pockets fill;
Halfoo us on with all their might,
To turn a penny by the fight.
If that's the cafe, return'd the bear,
'Tis time at laft to end the war;
Thou keep thy teeth, and I my claws,
To combat in a nobler caufe;
Sleep in a whole skin, I advise,
And let them bleed, who gain the prize.
Parties enrag'd on one another fall,
The butcher and the bear-ward pocket all.
The Wounded Man, and the Swarm of Flies.
QUALID with wounds, and many a gaping fore,
A wretched Lazar lay distress'd;
A fwarm of flies his bleeding ulcers tore,
And on his putrid carcass feast.
A courteous traveller, who pass'd that way,
And faw the vile Harpeian brood,
Offer'd his help the monstrous crew to slay,
That rioted on human blood.
Ah! gentle fir, th' unhappy wretch reply'd,
Your well-meant charity refrain;
The angry Gods have that redress deny'd,
Your goodness would increase my pain.
Fat, and full-fed, and with abundance cloy'd,
But now and then these tyrants feed;
But were, alas! this pamper'd brood destroy'd,
The lean and hungry would fucceed.
MORA L.
The body politick muft foon decay,
When fwarms of infects on its vitals prey;
When blood-fuckers of state, a greedy brood,
Feaft on our wounds, and fatten with our blood.
What must we do in this fevere diftrefs?
Come, doctor, give the patient fome redress:
The quacks in politicks a change advise,
But cooler counfels fhould direct the wife.
'Tis hard indeed; but better this, than worse;
Miftaken bleffings prove the greatest curfe.
Alas! what would our bleeding country gain,
If, when this viperous brood at last is flain,
The teeming Hydra pullulates again;
Seizes the prey with more voracious bite,
To fatisfy his hungry appetite?
"Hunc ego per Syrtes, Libyæque extrema triumphum "Ducere maluerim, quam ter capitolia curru "Scandere Pompeii, quam frangere colla Jugurtha."
Prowling wolf that scour'd the plains,
To eafe his hunger's griping pains;
Ragged as courtier in disgrace,
Hide-bound, and lean, and out of cafe;
By chance a well-fed dog efpy'd,
And being kin, and near ally'd,
He civilly falutes the cur,
How do you, cuz? Your fervant, fir!
O happy friend! how gay thy mien !
How plump thy fides, how fleek thy skin!
Triumphant plenty fhines all o'er,
And the fat melts at every pore !
While I, alas decay'd and old,
With hunger pine'd, and ftiff with cold,
With many a howl, and hideous grðan,
Tell the relentless woods my moan.
Pr'ythee, my happy friend impart
Thy wondrous, cunning, thriving art.
Why, faith, I'll tell thee as a friend,
But firft thy furly manners mend;
Be complaifant, obliging, kind,
And leave the wolf for once behind.
The wolf, whofe mouth began to water,
With joy and rapture gallop'd after,
When thus the dog; At bed and board,
I fhare the plenty of my lord;
From every gueft I claim a fee,
Who court my lord by bribing me :
In mirth I revel all the day,
And many a game at romps I play :"
I fetch and carry, leap o'er fticks,
And twenty fuch diverting tricks.
'Tis pretty, faith, the wolf reply'd,
And on his neck the collar fpy'd:
He starts, and without more ado
He bids the abject wretch adieu :
Enjoy your dainties, friend; to me
The nobleft feaft is liberty.
The famifh'd wolf upon thefe defart plains,
Is happier than a fawning cur in chains.
|