My Grand-dame had Gallants by Twenties,

And bore my Mother by a Prentice.

This, when my Grandfire knew; they tell us he,
In Chrift-Church cut his Throat for Jealousy.
And, fince the Alderman was mad you say,
Then, I must be so too, ex traduce.

On feeing Verfes written upon Win

THE

dows in Inns.

Written in the Year 1726.

HE Sage, who faid he should be proud
Of Windows in his Breaft;

Because he ne'er one Thought allow'd
That might not be confefs't:

His Window scrawl'd by ev'ry Rake,
His Breaft again would cover;

And fairly bid the D-l take

The Di'mond and the Lover.

Another.

B

Another.

Y Satan taught, all Conj'rers know
Your Mistress in a Glass to show,
And, you can do as much:

In this the Dev❜l and you agree;

None e'er made Verses worse than he,
And thine I fwear are fuch.

Another.

HAT Love is the Devil, I'll

THA requir'd;

Thefe Rhimers abundantly show it

prove when

They fwear that they all by Love are inspir'd,
And, the Devil's a damnable Poer,

Another.

HE Church and Clergy here, no doubt,

TH

Are very near a-kin;

Both, weather-beaten are without;

And

empty both within.

The

The following Poem having been printed in London, we have thought proper to infert it here, not doubting but it will be acceptable to our Readers; although we cannot fay who is the Author.

On the Words-Brother Proteftants, and Fellow Chriftians, Jo familiarly used by the Advocates for the Repeal of the Test Act in Ireland,

1733.

A

N Inundation, fays the Fable,

O'erflow'd a Farmer's Barn and Stable;
Whole Ricks of Hay and Stacks of Corn,
Were down the fudden Current born;
While Things of heterogeneous Kind,
Together float with Tide and Wind;
The generous Wheat forgot its Fride,
And fail'd with Litter Side by Side;
Uniting all, to fhew their Amity,
As in a general Calamity.

A Ball of new-dropt Horfe's Dung,
Mingling with Apples in the Throng,

Said

Said to the Pippin, plump, and prim,
See, Brother, how we Apples fwim.

THUS Lamb, renown'd for cutting Corns,
An offer'd Fee from Radcliff fcorns;
Not for the World-we Doctors, Brother,
Muft take no Fee of one another.

Thus to a Dean fome Curate Sloven,
Subfcribes, Dear Sir, your Brother loving.
Thus all the Footmen, Shoe-boys, Porters,
About St. James's, cry, We Courtiers.
Thus Hce in the Houfe will prate,
Sir, we the Minifters of State.

Thus at the Bar that *.

Tho' Half a Crown o'er pays his Sweat's Worth;
Who knows in Law, nor Text, nor Margent,
Calls Singleton his Brother Serjeant.

And thus Fanatic Saints, tho' neither in
Doctrine, or Discipline our Brethren,
Are Brother Proteftants and Chriftians,
As much as Hebrews and Philistines:
But in no other Senfe, than Nature
Has made a Rat our Fellow-Creature.
Lice from your Body fuck their Food;
But is a Loufe your Flesh and Blood?

Tho'

Tho' born of human Filth and Sweat, it
May well be faid Man did beget it.
But Maggots in your Nose and Chin,
As well may claim you for their Kin.

YET Criticks may object, why not?
Since Lice are Brethren to a S-:

Which made our Swarm of Se&ts determine
Employments for their Brother Vermin.

But be they English, Irish, Scottish,

What Proteftant can be fo fottish,

While o'er the Church thefe Clouds are gathering, To call a Swarm of Lice his Brethren?

As Mofes, by divine Advice,

In Egypt turn'd the Duft to Lice;

And as our Sects, by all Descriptions,
Have Hearts more harden'd than Egyptians;
As from the trodden Duft they spring,
And, turn'd to Lice, infeft the King :
For Pity's Sake it would be juft,
A Rod should turn them back to Duft.

LET Folks in high, or holy Stations,
Be proud of owning fuch Relations;

Let