DVI.

ON ABSALOM AND SAMPSON.

Thro' Sampson's want, and thy excess of hair,
He lost his life on earth, thou in the air:

His thoughts were too depress'd, thine soar'd too high;
As mortals live, so oftentimes they die.

DVII.

WISHES AND WANTS.

Since you, whom all the world admires,
Wou'd know what your poor friend requires ;

Some little spot of earth he prays,

To pass incognito his days.

Who'd bear the noisy pomp of state,
Or crowds of clients at his gate?

That might in his own fields, and, wood,
Find his diversion and his food;

His ponds with various fishes stor'd,

The bees for him their honey hoard;

A nut-brown lass, both kind and neat,
To make his bed and dress his meat.
He that hates me, or likes not this,
May he ne'er taste so sweet a bliss ;
But fool'd by riches and renown,
Still stay behind, and rot in town.

DVIII..

A GOOSE'S REASON.

A goose my Grannum one day said,
Ent'ring a Barn pops down its head,

I begg'd her then the cause to show :
She told me she must wave the task,
For nothing but a Goose wou'd ask,
What nothing but a Goose could know.

DIX.

BREVIS ESSE LABORO.

In a cause of three years for three pinches of snuff, Here's a Brief of three yards; I hope that's Brief

enough.

DX.

A VARIED EPITAPH ON PETER ARETIN.

Here lies a man, who no man spar'd,
When th' angry fit was on him,
Nor God himself had better far'd,
If Aretin had known him.

DXI.

CRESCIT EUNDO.

The Story of the wand'ring Jew
Proves this our theme in two-fold view,

No matter whether false or true,

Unless plain sense misguide us :
Doom'd thro' a life that ne'er shall close,
To trudge for ever on ten toes,

He must grow stronger as he goes,
And if he don't the lie does.

DXII.

THE PRAYER UNEXPECTEDLY GRANTED.

With folded hands, and lifted eyes,

"Have mercy Heaven!" the parson cries,
"And on our sun-burnt, thirsty plains,
"Thy blessing send in genial rains!"

The sermon ended and the prayers,

The parson to be gone prepares;

When with a look of brighten'd smiles

"Thank Heaven, it rains," cries farmer Giles.

"Rains!" quoth the parson,

<< Sure

you joke!

"Rain! Heav'n forbid! I've got no cloak."

END OF VOL. I.

Printed by BIGGS & Co. Crane-court, Fleet-street.