ANOTHER.
My deareft spouse, that thou and I
May shun the fear which first should die,
Clafp'd in each other's arms we'll live,
Alike confum'd in love's foft fire,
That neither may at last survive,
But gently both at once expire.
ARQUEANASSA's charms infpire
Within my breaft a lover's fire;
Age, its feeble fpite difplaying,
Vainly wrinkles all her face,
Cupids, in each wrinkle playing,
Charm my eyes with lafting grace :
But, before old Time purfued her,
Ere he funk thefe little caves,
How I pity those who view'd her,
And in youth were made her slaves!
FROM THE LATIN OF AUGUSTUS CÆSAR.
WHILE from his confort falfe Antonius flies,
And doats on Glaphyra's far brighter eyes,
Fulvia, provok'd, her female arts prepares,
Reprisals feeks, and spreads for me her fnares.
"The husband's falfe"-But why muft I endure
This naufeous plague, and her revenge procure?
What though the ask?-How happy were my doom,
Should all the difcontented wives of Rome
Repair in crowds to me, when fcorn'd at home!
"'Tis war," the fays, "if I refufe her charms :'
Let's think-She's ugly-Trumpets, found to arms!
Bleffed time of reformation,
That's now beginning through the nation! The Jacks bawl loud for church triumphant, And fwear all whigs fhall kifs the rump on't.
See how they draw the beaftly rabble
With zeal and noises formidable,
And make all cries about the town
Join notes to roar fanatics down!
As bigots give the fign about,
They ftretch their throats with hideous fhout.
Black tinkers bawl aloud to fettle
"Church-privilege"-for "mending kettle."
Each fow-gelder, that blows his horn,
Cries out to have diffenters fworn."
The oyster-wenches lock their fifh up,
And cry no Prefbyterian bishop!
The moufe-trap men lay fave-alls by,
And 'gainst "low church men" loudly cry,
A creature of amphibious nature,
That trims betwixt the land and water,
And leaves his mother in the lurch,
To fide with rebels 'gainst the church!
Some cry for " penal laws," instead
Of" pudding-pies, and ginger-bread:"
And fome, for "brooms, old boots, and fhoes,"
Roar out,
"God blefs our commons houfe!
Some bawl the votes" about the town,
vote diffenters down."
Instead of "kitchen-ftuff," fome cry,
"Confound the late whig-ministry !"
And fome, for " any chairs to mend,"
The commons late addrefs commend.
Some for "old gowns for china ware,"
Exclaim against
extempore prayer:"
And fome for "old fuits, cloaks, or coats,"
Cry, "D-n your preachers without notes !”
He that cries "coney-fkins, or onions,"
Blames "toleration of opinions,"
Blue- apron whores, that fit with furmety,
Rail at occafional conformity."
Instead of "cucumbers to pickle,"
Some cry aloud, "No conventicle !"
Mafons, inftead of "building houses,"
To build the church," would starve their spouses,
And gladly leave their trades, for ftorming
The meeting-houses, or informing.
Bawds, ftrumpets, and religion-haters,
Pimps, pandars, atheists, fornicators,
Rogues, that, like Falstaff, scarce know whether
A church's infide 's ftone or leather,
Yet join the parfons and the people,
"the church," but mean "the steeple."
If, holy mother, such you'll own For your true fons, and such alone, Then Heaven have mercy upon you, But the de'il take your beaftly crew!
"Temperat horis ?
"Unde nil majus generatur ipfo,
"Nec viget quicquam fimile aut fecundum.”
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