Louis the living learned fed,
And raised the scientific head;
Our frugal queen, to save her meat,
Exalts the heads that cannot eat.
ON THE CHURCH'S DANGER.
Good Halifax and pious Wharton cry,
The Church has vapors; there's no danger nigh.
In those we love not, we no danger see,
And were they hang'd, there would no danger be.
But we must silent be, amid our fears,
And not believe our senses, but the Peers.
So ravishers that know no sense of shame,
First stop her mouth, and then debauch the dame.
ON ONE DELACOURT'S COMPLIMENTING CARTHY ON HIS POETRY.
Carthy, you say, writes well—his genius true,
You pawn your word for him—he'll vouch for you.
So two poor knaves, who find their credit fail,
To cheat the world, become each other's bail.
ON A USURER.
Beneath this verdant hillock lies,
Demar, the wealthy and the wise.
His heirs, that he might safely rest,
Have put his carcass in a chest,
The very chest in which, they say,
His other self, his money lay.
And, if his heirs continue kind
To that dear self he left behind,
I dare believe, that four in five
Will think his better half alive.
TO MRS. BIDDY FLOYD; OR, THE RECEIPT TO FORM A BEAUTY.
When Cupid did his grandsire Jove entreat
To form some Beauty by a new receipt,
Jove sent, and found, far in a country scene,
Truth, innocence, good nature, look serene:
From which ingredients first the dext'rous boy
Pick'd the demure, the awkward, and the coy.
The Graces from the court did next provide
Breeding, and wit, and air, and decent pride:
These Venus cleans from every spurious grain
Of nice coquet, affected, pert, and vain.
Jove mix'd up all, and the best clay employ'd;
Then call'd the happy composition FLOYD.