Valleys wide, Over woods, Over floods ! When he treads, Man and fteed; Beneath his foot be loft. TURN'D afide From his hide Safe from wound Darts rebound. From his nofe Clouds he blows: When he speaks, * A gentle ECHO on WOMAN. Shepherd, In the Doric Manner. CHO, I ween, will in the woods reply, Есно, And quaintly answer questions: fhall I try? Shepherd, What must we do our paffion to exprefs? Shepherd, How fhall I please her who ne'er lov'd before? Shepherd, What most moves women, when we them addrefs? Shepherd, Say, what can keep her chafte, whom I adore? Shepherd, If mufic foften rocks, love tunes my lyre. Shepherd, Echo, Try. Echo, Prefs. Echo, Before. Echo, A drefs. Echo, A door. Echo, Lyar. Echo, Beer. Echo, Be kind. Then teach me, Echo, how fhall I come by her? When bought, no question, I shall be her dear? But deer have horns; how muft I keep her under? Shepherd, . How fhall I hold her ne'er to part asunder? Shepherd, But what can glad me when she's laid on bier ? Shepherd, What must I do, when woman will be kind? Shepherd, What must I do, when woman will be cross? Shepherd, Lord! what is the that can fo turn and wind? Shepherd, If the be wind, what ftills her when the blows? Echo, Be cross. Echo, Wind. Echo, Blows Echo, Bang her. Echo, Hang ber. Shepherd, Shepherd, Is there no way to moderate her anger? Shepherd, Echo, Guard her well. EPILOGUE to a PLAY for the benefit of the Weavers in Ireland, 1721. HO dares affirm this is no pious age, WH When charity begins to trade the stage ? BUT whence this wondrous charity in play'rs? * Dr William King, Archbishop of Dublin. 5 10 Since waiting-women, like exacting jades, In blue jballoon fhall Hannibal be clad, In drugget drefs'd, of thirteen pence a-yard, 15 20 25 30 OH! Could I fee this audience clad in fluff, Tho' money's scarce, we should have trade enough. Perhaps you wonder whence this friendship springs 35 And next obferve how this alliance fits, For weavers now are just as poor as wits: 40 45 VOL. VI. е Aftreet in Dublin famous for woollen manufactures. EPI EPITAPH ON A MISER. BENE ENEATH this verdant hillock lies, 5 10 To STELLA, who collected and tran fcribed his poems. Written in the year 1720. AS, when a lofty pile is rais'd, We never hear the workmen prais'd, Who bring the lime, or place the ftones; But all admire Inigo Jones: So, if this pile of fcatter'd rhymes THOU, Stella, wert no longer young, IN all the habitudes of life, 10 15 |