Lineage and virtue at this push Without the gelt is not worth a rush. TIRES. Why, not to mince the matter more, You are averfe to being poor, Therefore find out fome rich old cuff That never thinks he has enough. Have you a fwan, a turkey pie, With woodcocks, thither let them fly; 20 25 Convict of frequent perjury, His hands with brother's blood imbru'd, Never the wall when afk'd refuse, Nor lofe your friend to fave your shoes. 30 ULYSS. 'Twixt Damas and the kennel go! Which is the filthieft of the two? Before Troy town it was not fo: There with the best I us'd to frive. TIRES. Why, by that means you 'll never thrive. ULYSS. It will be very hard, that is true; Yet I'll my gen'rous mind subdue. THAME AND ISIS. So the god Thame, as thro' fome pond he glides, 37 His ftrength, her softness, in one bed combine, NERO, A SATIRE. We know how ruin once did reign E When Rome was fir'd and Senate flain : How he the carcass as it lay Did without tear or blufh furvey, Where Thule farves in northern fnow, CESAR, poffefs'd of Egypt's queen, And conq'ror of her charms, When lock'd in Zabra's arms. ZABRA. Should Memnon that fam❜d black revive, Aurora's darling fon, For Zabra's heart in vain he 'd ftrive, Where Darco reigns alone. DARCO. Fresh mulberries new prefs'd disclose A blood of purple hue, And Zabra's lips like crimson rofe Swell with a fragrant dew. 12 ZABRA. The am'rous Sun has kifs'd his face, And now those beams are fet A lovely night affumes the place And tinges all with jet. DARCO. Darkness is myftick prieft to Love, And does its rites conceal : O'erfpread with clouds fuch joys we 'll prove As Day fhall ne'er revcal. ZABRA. In gloom of night when Darco's eyes Are guides what heart can stray? Whoever views his teeth defcries The bright and Milky Way. 24 DARCO. Tho' born to rule fierce Libya's fands That with gold's luftre shine, TO TAKE HIS LEAVE OF TRINIT. COL. CAMBRIDGE. HORACE, you now have long enough At Cambridge play'd the fool, Take back your criticising stuff But in excuse of this you 'll fay 8 How many butter'd crufts you 've toft That you 're more like (at College coft) But you from head to foot are brawn, You measure (were a circle drawn) Then blefs me! Sir, how many craggs E'en let the Fellows take the rest, But no great likelihood to feaft 12 16 20 24 |