The Toper's Petition.

I.

GRANT me, kind Bacchus,

The god of the vine,

Not a pipe nor a tun,

But an ocean of wine,

With a fhip that's well-mann'd

With fuch rare-hearted fellows,

Who ne'er left the tavern

For a porterly alehouse.

II.

Let the ship spring a leak,
To let in the tipple,
Without pump or longboat,
To fave fhip or people:

So that each jolly lad

May always be bound,

Or to drink, or to drink,

Or to drink, or be drown'd.

III.

When death does prevail,
It is my defign
To be nobly entomb'd

In a wave of good wine:
So that living or dead,
Both body and spirit,
May float round the world
In an ocean of claret.

The Relief by the Bowl.

INCE drinking has power to bring us relief,

SINCE

Come fill up the bowl, and the pox on all grief :

If we find that won't do, we'll have fuch another;
And fo we'll proceed from one bowl to another;
Till, like fons of Apollo, we'll make our wit foar,
Or in homage to Bacchus, fall down on the floor.

Apollo and Bacchus were both merry fouls,
Each of them delighted to tofs off their bowls;
Then let us, to show ourselves mortals of merit,
Be toasting these gods in a bowl of good claret.
And then we shall each be deferving of praise :
But the man that drinks most shall go off with the bays.

*

On Masonry.

I.

BY mafon's art, the afpiring dome

In various columns fhall arife;
All climates are their native home,
Their godlike actions reach the skies.
Heroes and kings revere their name,
And poets fing their deathless fame.

II.

Great, gen'rous, noble, wife, and brave,
Are titles they most justly claim;
Their deeds fhall live beyond the grave,
Which babes unborn fhall loud proclaim;

Time shall their glorious acts inrol,

Whilft love and friendship charm the foul.

The Coquet.

I.

FROM Whyte's and Will's,
To purling rills,

The love-fick Strephon flies;
There full of wo,

His numbers flow,

And all in rhyme he dies.

II.

The fair coquet,

With feign'd regret,

Invites him back to town;

But when in tears

The lad appears,

She meets him with a frown.

III.

Full oft the maid

This prank had play'd,
Till angry Strephon swore,
And what is ftrange,
Tho' loath to change,
Would never fee her more.

Gently touch, &c.

I.

ENTLY touch the warbling lyre,

GE

Chloe feems inclin❜d to rest,

Fill her foul with fond defire,
Softeft notes will footh her breast.
Pleafing dreams assist in love,
Let them all propitious prove.

II.

On the moffy bank she lies,
(Nature's verdant velvet bed),
Beauteous flowers meet her eyes,
Forming pillows for her head.
Zephyrs waft their odours round,
And indulging whispers found.

IMITATED.

I.

GENTLY ftir and blow the fire,

Lay the mutton down to roast,

Get me, quick, 'tis my defire,
In the dreeping-pan a toaft:
That my hunger may remove;
Mutton is the meat I love.

II.

On the dreffer fee it lies:

O the charming white and red!
Finer meat ne'er met my eyes,
On the sweetest grass it fed!
Swiftly make the jack go round,
Let me have it nicely brown'd.

III.

On the table spread the cloth,

Let the knives be sharp and clean;

Pickles get of every sort,

And a falad crisp and green :

Then with small beer and sparkling wine, O ye gods! how I fhall dine!

The happy Beggars.

OW

Queen of the Beggars.

How blefs'd are beggar-laffes,

Who never toil for treasure !

Who know no care, but how to share Each day fucceffive pleasure ! Drink away, let's be gay,

Beggars ftill with bliss abound,

Mirth and joy ne'er can cloy,

Whilst the sparkling glass goes round.

First Woman.

A fig for gaudy fashions,

No want of cloaths oppreffes; We live at ease with rags and fleas,

We value not our dreffes.

Drink away, &c.

Second Woman.

We fcorn all ladies' washes,

With which they fpoil each feature, No patch or paint our beauties want, We live in fimple nature.

Drink away, &c.

Third Woman.

No cholic, fpleen, or vapours,
At morn, or evening tease us;
We drink no tea, or ratafia;
When fick, a dram can ease us.
Drink away, &c.