EPIGRAMS FROM MARTIAL.

BY HAY*,

LIB. 1. EP, XI.

TO Lady Mary, Belair makes addreffes,
Presents he makes, fighs, preffes, and profeffes.
Is the fo fair? No lady fo ill off.

What is fo captivating then? Her cough.

LIB. 2. EP. III.

YOU fay you nothing owe, and so I say:
He only owes, who fomething has to pay.

William Hay, Efq; a complete edition of whose works has lately been published in two quarto volumes. He was born in 1695, and chofen into Parliament, in 1733-4, for the town of Seaford, which he represented with great credit, till an apoplexy, in 1755, put a period to his existence. Of his writings, the Effay on De formity is, perhaps, best known, and certainly most remarkable, when we recollect that he was in his own perfon another Pope.

LIB. 2. EP. LVIII.

YOU'RE fine, and ridicule my thread-bare
Thread-bare indeed it is: but 'tis my own.

gown.

LIB. 2. EP. LXXVIII.

WHAT place to keep your Ice in I approve,
You afk -Your kitchen chimney, or your stove.

1.FB. 2. EP. LXXX.

ON FANNIUS.

HIMSELF he flew, when he the foe would fly:

What madness this, for fear of death, to die!

LIB. 3. EP. LXI.

"TIS a mere nothing that you ask, you cry: If you ask nothing nothing I deny.

LIB. 5. EP. LXII.

WHO is that beau-pray tell me, for you know-
Still near your wife? Pray tell me-Who's that beau,
Still pouring nonfenfe on her glowing ear,

With his right elbow leaning on her chair?

Who on his hand the sparkling brilliant wears,
His hand almost as white and foft as hers?
"That man is, though he now fo gay appears,
"A lawyer, who tranfacts my wife's affairs."
A lawyer that! I vow you make me ftare!
Surely Lord Foppington's turn'd practiser !
A lawyer that! You are a precious 'fquire,
Fit for a Gomez in the Spanish Friar !
Your wife's affairs! Believe me, one fo fine
Tranfacts not her affairs fo much as thine.

LIB. 6. EP. XIX.

MY caufe concerns nor battery nor treason
I fue my neighbour for this only reafon,
That late three sheep of mine to pound he drove :
This is the point the court would have you prove.
Concerning Magna Charta you run on,

And all the perjuries of old King John :

Then of the Edwards and Black Prince you rant, And talk of John o' Stiles, and John o' Gaunt; With voice and hand a mighty pother keep.

.... Now, pray dear Sir, one word about the Sheep.

LIB. 7. EP. III.

YOU afk me why I have no verses fent.

For fear you should return the compliment.

LIB 8. EP. XIV.

YOUR oranges and myrtles, with what cost,
You guard against the nipping winds and frost!
The absent fun the constant stoves repair;
Windows admit his beams, without the air.
My garret too has windows, but not glaffes,
Where Boreas never stays, but often paffes.
For fhame! to let an old acquaintance freeze!
I had much better live amongst your Trees.

LIB. 8. EP, XXIII.

YOU take me for a glutton and finner,
Who beat my cook for fpoiling of my dinner.

If as a trifling caufe on this

you look,

Tell me a better cause to beat a cook.

LIB. 8. EP. LXIX.

THE ancients all your veneration have;
You like no poet on this fide the grave:
Yet, pray excufe me, if, to please you, I
Can hardly think it worth my while to die.

LIB. 8. EP. LXXIV.

A DOCTOR lately was a Captain made :
It is a change of title, not of trade.

LIB. 11. EP. XXXV.

JACK buys an ancient cottage, dull and foul, And fcarce a decent harbour for an owl,

Near to an hofpitable neighbour's feat:

Jack will not lodge fo well as he will eat.

LIB. 11. EP. LXIX.

AN Enfign's poft you ask, and that's denied:

Afk for a Colonel's-lefs 'twill hurt your pride.

LIB. 12. EP. XLVI.

WHEN Scribbler makes us for his verfe fubscribe, All are not mad of the poetic tribe.