A Valiant Lyon, now grown old,
His Limbs and Jaws benumb'd and cold,
Lay thinking on his Royal Bed,
With scarce a Tooth in all his Head:
And Claws worn to the Stumps with Tearing:
(But every thing's the worse for wearing)
And whilst he labour'd to repent,
Complaining of his Youth mispent,
His Rebel Subjects paid no more,
That Honour, which they gave before,
But treat him with Contempt and Scorn:
The Bull does push him with his Horn,
The Horse affronts him with his Heels:
No Tongue can tell what grief he feels
From these insulting Enemies.
In comes the Ass; but when he sees,
That Coward too forget his Duty,
He dying said, Tu quoque Brute?
The two Physicians.
Two graduate Physicians,
Of many Years Experience,
With Coaches to proclaim their Skill,
Are sent for to a Man that's ill.
One feels his Pulse and gives him over:
But th' other says he may recover;
I have great hopes, we'll give him some
Of my Antithanaticum.
No, cries the first, he is too weak;
Yes truly Sir, I'm very sick,
Replies the Patient; down they sate,
And enter'd in a deep Debate:
One quotes four Words of Arabick,
Th' other an Aphorism in Greek.
They're very hot, and every one
Sticks to his own Opinion.
The Upshot was, they writ a Bill,
Which neither lik'd of very well:
They visit him some Days, and vent
Many a learned Argument;
But as his Life went on full Speed,
He could not stay till they agreed,
And so march'd off; and when he's dead,
Both still are in the right; one said,
I told you so, his very Eye
Prognosticated he would dye:
And th' other cry'd, had I been believ'd,
I'm very sure, he would have liv'd.
Love and Folly.
The charming God, that with his Bow,
So many Thousand Years ago,
Came to that troublesome Employ,
He serves in still, is but a Boy:
His Art is so mysterious,
That to explain his business,
His Tackle, Arrows, Quiver, Taper,
Would take up several Reams of Paper;
Which being more than I've a mind
To fill; I'll only, since he is blind,
Tell you which way he lost his sight,
With what came on't, and so good Night.
Folly and Love took one another
Aside, as Boys will run together,
And crept into a Nook of Heaven,
To play at Seven or Eleven;
And here good People, Gamesters may
Behold what mischief comes from Play:
There 'rose a quarrel about the Main,
Its Eight says Love, and thought 'twas plain;
Quoth Folly, but I'm sure 'tis Nine,
You Little Cheat, the Game is mine:
At last Words growing very high,
Love gives his angry Foe the Lie;
Then up starts Folly, flings the Dice
At Love, and beats out both his Eyes.
Venus would be reveng'd, bawl'd out,
And shed so many Tears about
The Peepers of her little Son,
That she was like to have spoil'd her own.
She would have Justice done, she swore,
Call'd Folly Rogue and Son 'f a Whore:
How did you do't; I'll make you dance?
Indeed said Folly, 'twas by chance.
Cry'd Cupid, you're a punning Cur,
And snobb'd. In comes the Thunderer,
With all the Gods and Goddesses,
To sit upon the Business,
Between Love and the Boy at Bar.
The Cuckold and the God of War
Were very hot, they'd have him dye;
But when Minerva ask'd him, Why?
They said, because——Be free from rage,
Ye Gods, said Themis, mind his Age,
And then the Council seem'd to incline
To make him only pay a Fine
To Love. But the injur'd Mother cries,
That won't do, I'll have both his Eyes,
Secundum legem Talionis,
He shall pay Corpore non bonis.
Apollo bids her to be civil.
T'have two blind Boys would be the Devil,
Said Juno, and this gave the hint
To Jove, t'inflinct a Punishment,
That might ease Love; what must he do?
He could not walk alone; and so
'Twas fixed by all the Gods above,
That Folly should be guide to Love.
A She-Goat, a Sheep and a Sow.
A She-Goat that gave exc'lent Milk,
A Sheep, whose Fleece was soft as Silk,
And a fat Sow went to the Fair
In the same Cart, not to take th' Air,
Or to see Shows; but, as I am told,
Downright in order to be sold;
All the way long the Sow did squawl,
And scream enough to deafen 'em all;
Had she been follow'd by six score
Butchers, she could have done no more:
The other Creatures wonder'd at her,
And could not dream what was the matter;
They thought it must proceed from fear;
And yet perceived no danger near;
The Carter told her, What d'ye mean?
Who gives you reason to complain?
Your Cries have stunn'd us; what d'ye make
This horrid Noise for? prithee take
Example by your Company,
Be silent or talk civilly.
Look on that Sheep, he thinks you're mad;
Has he spoke one Word good or bad?
No: He is wise.——The Devil he is,
Replies the Sow, could he but guess,
Whither you carry us, or why;
I'm sure he'd bawl as loud as I:
He's used to Shears, and so the Fool
Thinks only that you'll take his Wool;
And this good Lady with the Beard
Has no great Cause to be afear'd;
She's daily milk'd and does depend on't,
you'll drain her Dug, and there's an end on't:
And 't maybe so, or 't may be not:
But, wou'd you have me such a sot,
Who 'm good for nothing, whilst I've Breath,
To be afraid of less than Death?