"A few in verse; but most in prose→→→→"
"Some high-flown pamphlets, I suppose,
"All scribbled in the worst of times,
"To palliate his friend Oxford's crimes,
"To praise Queen Anne, nay, more, defend her,
"As never fav'ring the Pretender :---
"Or libels yet conceal'd from sight,

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"Against the court to shew his spite.
"Perhaps his Travels, part the Third,
"A lie at ev'ry second word-
"Offensive to a loyal ear :-

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"But-not one sermon, you may swear."
“He knew an hundred pleasant stories,
"With all the turns of Whigs and Tories;

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"Was cheerful to his dying day,

"And friends would let him have his way." "As for his Works in verse or prose,

"I own myself no judge of those;

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"Nor can I tell what critics thought 'em, "But this I know, all people bought 'em,

"As with a moral view design'd,

"To please and to reform mankind; "And if he often miss'd his aim,

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"The world must own it, to their shame,

"The praise is his, and theirs the blame.
"He gave the little wealth he had
"To build a house for fools and mad;
"To shew, by one satiric touch,

"No nation wanted it so much.

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"That kingdom he hath left his debtor,
"I wish it soon may have a better :
"And since you dread no further lashes,
"Methinks you may forgive his ashes."

CASSINUS AND PETER.

A TRAGICAL ELEGY.

Written in the year 1731.

Two college sophs of Cambridge growth,
Both special wits, and lovers both,
Conferring as they us'd to meet

On love, and books, in rapture sweet,
(Muse, find me names to fit my metre,
Cassinus this, and t'other Peter)
Friend Peter to Cassinus goes,
To chat a while and warm his nose;
But such a sight was never seen,
The lad lay swallow'd up in spleen:
He seem'd as just crept out of bed,
One greasy stocking round his head,
The other he sat down to darn
With threads of diff'rent-colour'd yarn;
His breeches torn, exposing wide

A ragged shirt and tawny hide :

Scorch'd were his shins, his legs were bare,
But well embrown'd with dirt and hair:
A rug was o'er his shoulders thrown;
A rug-for nightgown he had none :
Volume III.

F

His jordan stood in manner fitting,
Between his legs to spue or spite in;
His ancient Pipe, in sable dy'd,
And half unsmok’d, lay by his side.
Him thus accoutred Peter found,

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With eyes in smoke and weeping drown'd,

The leavings of his last night's pot

On embers plac'd, to drink it hot.

Why, Cassy! thou wilt doze thy pate ;

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What makes thee lie a-bed so late?
The finch, the linnet, and the thrush,
Their mattins chant in ev'ry bush;
And I have heard thee oft' salute

Aurora with thy early flute.

Heav'n send thou hast not got the hips!
How! not a word come from thy lips?
Then gave him some familiar thumps

A college-joke to cure the dumps.

The swain at last, with grief opprest, Cry'd, "Celia !" thrice, and sigh'd the rest. "Dear Cassy! tho' to ask I dread,

"Yet ask I must-Is Celia dead ?"

"How happy I were that the worst! "But I was fated to be curst."

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"Come, tell us, has she play'd the whore ?" 45 "Oh, Peter, would it were no more!"

"Why, plague confound her sandy locks;

“Say, has the small or greater pox

"Sunk down her nose, or seam'd her face? "Be easy, 'tis a common case."

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"O Peter! beauty's but a varnish, "Which time and accident will tarnish; "But Celia has contriv'd to blast "Those beauties, that might ever last : " Nor can imagination guess, " Nor eloquence divine express, "How that ungrateful charming maid "My purest passion has betray'd. "Conceive the most envenom'd dart "To pierce an injur'd lover's heart."

"Why, hang her! tho' she seem'd so coy,

"I know she loves the barber's boy."

"Friend Peter! this I could excuse, "For ev'ry nymph has leave to chuse ; "Nor have I reason to complain "She loves a more deserving swain: "But, oh! how ill hast thou divin'd "A crime that shocks all human-kind "A deed unknown to female race,

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"At which the sun should hide his face ;

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"Advice in vain you would apply

"Then leave me to despair and die.

"Ye kind Arcadians! on my urn "These elegies and sonnets burn;

"And on the marble grave these rhymes,

"A monument to after times;

"Here Cassy lies, by Celia slain,

"And, dying, never told his pain.

"Vain empty world! farewell. But, hark,

"The loud Cerberian triple bark.

"And there behold Alecto stand!
"A whip of scorpions in her hand.
"Lo! Charon from his leaky wherry
"Beck'ning to waft me o'er the ferry.
"I come, I come,-Medusa! see,
"Her serpents hiss direct at me.
66 Begone; unhand me, hellish fry:
"Avaunt!-ye cannot say 'tis I."

“Dear Cassy! thou must purge and bleed

"I fear thou wilt be mad indeed.

;

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"But now, by friendship's sacred laws, "I here conjure thee tell the cause,

"And Celia's horrid fact relate;

“ Thy friend would gladly share thy fate.”
"To force it out my heart must rend;

"Yet when conjur'd by such a friend—
“Think, Peter, how my soul it rackt !
"These eyes, these eyes beheld the fact.
"Now bend thine ear, since out it must,
"But when thou seest me laid in dust,
"The secret thou shalt ne'er impart,
"Not to the nymph that keeps thy heart;'
"(How would her virgin-soul bemoan
"A crime to all her sex unknown!)
"Nor whisper to the tattling reeds
"The blackest of all female deeds ;
"Nor blab it on the lonely rocks,
"Where Echo sits, and list'ning mocks
"Nor let the zephyrs' treach'rous gale

o' Cambridge waft the direful tale;

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