Each former art she vainly tries Poor madam now condemn'd to hack The rest of life with anxious Jack, Perceiving others fairly flown, Attempted pleasing him alone. Jack soon was dazzled to behold For tawdry finery is seen No more presuming on her sway, Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty. THE GIFT. TO IRIS, IN BOW-STREET, covenT-GARDEN. SAY, cruel Iris, pretty rake, Dear mercenary beauty, What annual off'ring shall I make Expressive of my duty. My heart, a victim to thine eyes, Should I at once deliver, Say, would the angry fair one prize H A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy, I'll give-but not the full-blown rose, Or rose-bud more in fashion; Such short-liv'd off'rings but disclose A transitory passion. I'll give thee something yet unpaid, Not less sincere than civil: I'll give thee-ah! too charming maid, I'll give thee-to the devil. LOGICIANS REFUTED, IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT. LOGICIANS have but ill defin'd Wise Aristotle and Smiglesius, By ratiocinations specious, Have strove to prove with great precision, With definition and division, Homo est ratione preditum; But for my soul I cannot credit 'em. And must in spite of them maintain That man and all his ways are vain; Than reason, boasting mortals' pride; And that brute beasts are far before 'em, Deus est anima brutorum. Who ever knew an honest brute At law his neighbour prosecute; Bring action for assault and battery, Or friend beguile with lies and flattery? No politics disturb their mind; They eat their meals, and take their sport, Nor know who's in or out at court; They never to the levee go To treat as dearest friend a foe; They never importune his grace, Nor ever cringe to men in place; Nor draw the quill to write for Bob; No judges, fidlers, dancing masters, |