Song A-la-mode.

O'er the desert, cross the meadows,
Hunters blew the merry horn;
Phœbus chas'd the flying shadows;
Echo, she reply'd, in scorn;

Still adoring,

And deploring,

Why must Thirsis lose his life?

Rivers murmur'd from their fountains,
Acorns dropping from the oaks,

Fawns came tripping o'er the mountains,
Fishes bit the naked hooks;

Still admiring,

And desiring;

When shall Phillis be a wife.

FROM HIS EPIGRAMS, OR COURT CHARACTERS.

To MAXIMINA.

Ovid, who bid the ladies laugh,
Spoke only to the young and fair;
For thee his council were not safe,
Who of sound teeth hast scarce a pair;
If thou thy glass, or me believe,
Shun mirth, as foplings do the wind:
At Durfy's farce affect to grieve;
And let thy eyes alone be kind.

Speak not, though 'twere to give consent;
For he that sees those rotten bones,
Will dread their monumental scent,
And fly thy sighs like dying groans.

If thou art wise, see dismal plays,
And to sad stories lend thy ear;
With the afflicted spend thy days,
And laugh not above once a year.

To NISUS.

How shall we please this age?--If in a song
We put above six lines, they count it long;
If we contract it to an epigram,

As deep the dwarfish poetry they damn ;
If we write plays, few see above an act,
And those lewd masks, or noisy fops distract:-
Let us write satire then, and at our ease
Vex th' ill-natur'd fools we cannot please!

To CLASSICUs.

When thou art ask'd to sup abroad,

Thou swear'st thou hast but newly din'd;

That eating late does overload

The stomach, and oppress the mind:

But if Apicius make a treat,

The slend❜rest summons thou obey'st,

No child is greedier of the teat,

Than thou art of the bounteous feast;
There thou wilt drink till every star
Be swallow'd by the rising sun :
Such charms hath wine we pay not for,

And mirth, at others' charge begun.
Who shuns his club, yet flies to every treat,
Does not a supper, but a reck'ning hate.

TO SEXTUS.

What business, or what hope brings thee to town, Who can'st not pimp, nor cheat, nor swear, nor lye? This place will nourish no such idle drone;

Hence, in remoter parts thy fortune try. But thou hast courage, honesty, and wit,

And one, or all these three, will give thee bread: The malice of this town thou know'st not yet; Wit is a good diversion, but base trade; Cowards will, for thy courage, call thee bully, Till all, like Thraso's, thy acquaintance shun; Rogues call thee for thy honesty, a cully!

Yet this is all thou hast to live upon:

Friend three such virtues, Audley had undone;
Be wise, and e'er thou'rt in a jail, be gone:
Of all that starving crew we saw to day,

None but has kill'd his man,-or writ his play!

To SCEVA.

If Scæva for more friends thou care,

Which thy great merit cannot want;
For me an humble place prepare,

That I am new, make no complaint;

Thy dearest friends were strangers once like me,
Like them, in time, I an old friend may be,
If thou no want of friendly virtues see.

To SERTORIUS,

If thou dost want a horse, thou buy'st a score,
Or if a piece of wine, thou'lt have a tun;
Swords, belts, or hats, does any cheat bring o'er;
At his own rate thou wilt have all or none.
Whil'st out of wantonness thou buy'st so fast,
Qut of mere want thou wilt sell all at last.

TO CLOE.

Leave off thy paint, perfumes, and youthful dress, And nature's failing honestly confess;

Double we see those faults which art would mend, Plain downright ugliness would less offend!

To CANIDIUS.

Thou strut'st as if thou wert the only lord;
When we all know of such there is a house,
Where I might sit, cou'd I the price afford,

And Child has now three earldoms out at use.
High expectation does attend good seed,
Yet none will buy a known jade for his breed;
Boast not too much thy mighty pedigree,
Were they alive they'd be ashamed of thee.

TO FLAVIUS.

Thou quibl'st well, hast craft and industry,
Flatt'rest great men, laugh'st at their enemies,
Rally'st the absent, art a pretty spy,

Yet for all this in court thou dost not rise;
Thou play'st thy court-game booty: I'm afraid
Th'ast promis'd marriage, when thy fortune's made,
And so thou dar'st not thrive upon thy trade.

To THRASO.

Whil'st thou sit'st drinking up thy loyalty,
And rayl'st at laws, thou dost not understand,
Ador'st the ministers, who know not thee,

Sell'st thy long freedom for a short command, The power thou aim'st at, if o'er thee one have, In a rich coat th'art but a ranting slave.

On Coscus.

Coscus, thou say'st my epigrams are long ;-
I'd take thy judgment on a pot of ale:
So thou may'st say the elephant's too strong,
A dwarf too short, the pyramid too tall;
Things are not long, where we can nothing spare ;
But, Coscus, even thy disticks tedious are.

To MAXIMUS.

Would'st thou be free? I fear thou art in jest→→→
But if thou would'st, this is the only way ;-
Be no man's tavern, nor domestic guest;

Drink wholesome wine, which thy own servants draw;

Of knavish Curio scorn the ill-got plate,

The numerous servants, and the cringing throng: With a few friends on fewer dishes eat,

And let thy clothes, like mine, be plain and strong; Such friendships make as thou may'st keep with ease, Great men expect what good men hate to pay; Be never thou thyself in pain to please,

But leave to fools and knaves, th' uncertain prey. Let thy expence with thy estate keep pace;

Meddle with no man's business, scarce thy own;
Contented pay for a plebeian face,

And leave vain fops the beauties of the town.
If to this pitch of virtue thou canʼst bring
Thy mind, thou'rt freer than the Persian king.
TO MILO.

One month a lawyer, thou the next wilt be
A grave physician, and the third a priest ;
Chuse quickly one profession of the three,

Married to her, thou yet may'st court the rest.