PHRYN E. PHRYNE had talents for mankind, Open fhe was, and unconfin'd, Like fome free port of trade; Her learning and good-breeding fuch, Obfcure by birth, renown'd by crimes, In diamonds, pearls, and rich brocades, So have I known those Infects fair Still vary shapes and dyes; Still gain new Titles with new forms; VOL. I. DR. A a VII. DR. SWIFT. The Happy Life of a COUNTRY PARSON. ARSON, these things in thy poffeffing PARSO Are better than the Bishop's bleffing. A Wife that makes conferves; a Steed He that has thefe, may pafs his life, Toast Church and Queen, explain the News, And shake his head at Doctor Swift. A FARE D A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715. EAR, damn'd, distracting town, farewell! Soft B and rough C - - -, adieu! Earl Warwick make your moan, May knock up whores alone. To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery And Garth, the best good christian he, Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go; Farewel, unhappy Tonfon! Heaven gives thee, for thy lofs of Rowe, Why should I stay? Both parties rage; My vixen mistress fqualls; The wits in envious feuds engage; The The love of arts lies cold and dead In Halifax's urn; And not one Mufe of all he fed, Has yet the grace to mourn. My friends, by turns, my friends confound, ́ Poor Yr's fold for fifty pound, Why make I friendships with the great, Or follow girls feven hours in eight? Still idle, with a busy air, The gayest valetudinaire, Solicitous for others ends, Though fond of dear repofe; Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell, Adieu to all but Gay alone, Whofe foul, fincere and free, Loves all mankind, but flatters none, And fo may starve with me. A DIA A DIALOGUE. POPE, SIN IN CE my old friend is grown fo great, I'm told (but 'tis not true I hope) CRAGGS. Alas! if I am fuch a creature, To grow the worse for growing greater; EPIGRAM. Engraved on the Collar of a Dog, which I gave to his Royal Highness. I Am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, Sir, whofe dog are you? IN E PIGRAM. Occafioned by an Invitation to Court. N the lines that you fent, are the Muses and Graces; You've the Nine in your wit, and the Three in your faces. A FRAG |