I'll give but not the full-blown rose, Or rofe-bud, more in fashion; Such short-liv'd off'rings but disclose A tranfitory paffion. I'll give thee, fomething yet unpaid, I'll give thee-ah! too charming maid; STANZAS ON WOMAN. WHE HEN lovely woman ftoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray; What charm can foothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover, AN AN ELE G ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG. Go OOD people all, of every sort, And if you find it wondrous fhort, In Iflington there was a man, A kind and gentle heart he had, The naked every day he clad, And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be; Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. Th This dog and man at first were friends: But when a pique began, The dog, to gain his private ends, Went mad, and bit the man. Around from all the neighbouring streets, To bite fo good a man. The wound it feem'd both fore and fad, To every christian eye; And while they swore the dog was mad But foon a wonder came to light, The dog it was that dy'd. AN AN ELEGY ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX, MRS. MARY BLAIZE. OOD people all, with one accord, Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word From those who spoke her praife. The needy feldom pafs'd her door,.. She freely lent to all the poor- She ftrove the neighbourhood to please, And never follow'd wicked ways, Unless when she was finning. |