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PHRY NE.

P

HRYNE had talents for mankind,

Open she was, and unconfin'd,

Like fome free port of trade;

Merchants unloaded here their freight,
And Agents from each foreign state
Here first their entry made.

Her learning and good-breeding fuch,
Whether th' Italian or the Dutch,
Spaniards or French came to her:
To all obliging she'd appear:
'Twas Si Signior, 'twas Yaw Mynheer,
'Twas S'il vous plaist, Monfieur.

Obfcure by birth, renown'd by crimes,
Still changing names, religion, climes,
At length fhe turns a Bride:

In diamonds, pearls, and rich brocades,
She shines the first of batter'd jades,
And flutters in her pride.

So have I known those Infects fair
(Which curious Germans hold fo rare)

Still vary shapes and dyes;

Still gain new Titles with new forms;
Firft grubs obfcene, then wriggling worms,
Then painted butterflies.

5

10.

15

20

VOL. I.

DR.

A a

VII.

DR. SWIFT.

The Happy Life of a COUNTRY PARSON.

PARSON, these things in thy poffeffing
Are better than the Bishop's bleffing.

A Wife that makes conferves; a Steed
That carries double when there's need:
October ftore, and beft Virginia,
Tythe-Pig, and mortuary Guinea:
Gazettes fent gratis down, and frank'd,
For which thy Patron's weekly thank'd;
A large Concordance, bound long fince;
Sermons to Charles the First, when Prince:
A Chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chryfoftom to smooth thy band in.
The Polyglott-three parts,-my text,
Howbeit,-likewife-now to my next.
Lo here the Septuagint,-and Paul,
To fum the whole,-the close of all.

He that has thefe, may pafs his life,
Drink with the 'Squire, and kiss his Wife;
On Sundays preach, and eat his fill;
And faft on Fridays-if he will;

Toast Church and Queen, explain the News,
Talk with Church-Wardens about Pews,
Pray heartily for fome new Gift,

And shake his head at Doctor Swift.

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A FARE

D

A FAREWELL TO LONDON

IN THE YEAR 1715.

EAR, damn'd, distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I'll teize:

This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,

Ye harlots, fleep at ease!

Soft B and rough C

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May knock up whores alone.

To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd
Till the third watchman toll;
Let Jervais gratis paint, and Frowde
Save three-pence and his foul.

Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery
On every learned fot;

And Garth, the best good christian he,
Although he knows it not.

Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;

Farewel, unhappy Tonfon!

Heaven gives thee, for thy lofs of Rowe,
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.

Why fhould I stay? Both parties rage;
My vixen mistress squalls;

The wits in envious feuds engage;
And Homer (damn him!) calls.

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The love of arts lies cold and dead

In Halifax's urn;

And not one Mufe of all he fed,

Has yet the grace to mourn.

My friends, by turns, my friends confound, Betray, and are betray'd:

Poor Y -r's fold for fifty pound,

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Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour feek?

Or follow girls feven hours in eight?➡
I need but once a week.

Still idle, with a bufy air,
Deep whimfies to contrive;

The gayeft valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake alive.

Solicitous for others ends,

Though fond of dear repofe;
Careless or drowsy with my friends,
And frolick with my foes.

Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,
For fober, studious days!
And Burlington's delicious meal,
For fallads, tarts, and pease!

Adieu to all but Gay alone,

Whofe foul, fincere and free,

Loves all mankind, but flatters none,

And fo may starve with me.

A DIALOGUE.

POPE. STA

fo great,

INCE my old friend is grown
As to be minifter of ftate,
I'm told (but 'tis not true I hope)
That Craggs will be asham'd of Pope.
CRAGGS. Alas! if I am fuch a creature,

To grow the worse for growing greater;
Why faith, in fpite of all my brags,
'Tis Pope must be asham'd of Craggs.

EPIGRAM.

Engraved on the Collar of a Dog, which I gave to his Royal Highness.

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Am his Highness' dog at Kew;

Pray tell me, Sir, whofe dog are you?

IN

EPIGRAM.

Occafioned by an Invitation to Court.

N the lines that you fent, are the Mufes and Graces; You've the Nine in your wit, and the Three in your

faces,

A FRAG

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