I envy not their blifs, if he or she
Think fit to live in perfect chastity;
Pure let them be, and free from taint or vice;
I, for a few flight spots, am not so nice.
Heav`n calls us diff'rent ways, on these bestows
One proper gift, another grants to thofe :
Not ev'ry man's oblig❜d to fell his store,
And give up all his substance to the poor:
Such as are perfect, may, I can't deny;
But by your leaves, Divines, so am not I.
THE WIFE OF BATH, V. I. p. 238.
WEDDED ARTIFICE.
LO thus, my friends, I wrought to my defires
These three right ancient venerable fires.
I told 'em, Thus you fay, and thus you do ;
I told 'em false, but Jenkin swore 'twas true.
I, like a dog, could bite as well as whine,
And first complain'd, when'er the guilt was mine.
I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours,
When their weak legs fcarce dragg'd 'em out of
doors;
And swore the rambles that I took by night,
Were all to fpy what damfels they bedight.
That colour brought me many hours of mirth;
For all this wit is giv'n us from our birth.
Heav'n gave to women the peculiar grace
To fpin, to weep, and cully human race.
By this nice conduct, and this prudent course,
By murm'ring, wheedling, ftratagem, and force,
I ftill prevail'd, and would be in the right,
Or curtain-lectures made a reftless night.
If once my husband's arm was o'er my fide,
What! fo familiar with your spouse? I cry'd:
I levied firft a tax upon his need;
Then let him-'twas a nicety indeed!
Let all mankind this certain maxim hold,
Marry who will, our fex is to be fold.
With empty hands no taffels you can lure,
But fulfome love for gain we can endure;
For gold we love the impotent and old,
And heave, and pant, and kiss, and cling, for gold.
Yet with embraces, curfes oft I mix'd,
Then kiss'd again, and chid, and rail'd betwixt.
Well, I may make my will in peace, and die,
For not one word in man's arrears am I.
To drop a dear difpute I was unable,
E'en though the Pope himself had sat at table,
WIDOW HOOD.
THUS day by day, and month by month we past; It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last. I tore my gown, I foil'd my locks with dust, And beat my breafts, as wretched widows-muft. Before my face my handkerchief I spread, To hide the flood of tears I did—not shed. The good man's coffin to the Church was borne ; Around, the neighbours, and my Clerk too, mourn, But as he march'd, good Gods! he fhow'd a pair Of legs and feet, fo clean, fo ftrong, so fair! I
Of twenty winters age he feem'd to be;
I (to fay truth) was twenty-more than he;
But vig'rous ftill, a lively buxom dame;
And had a wond'rous gift to quench a flame.
A Conj'rer once, that deeply could divine,
Affur'd me, Mars in Taurus was my fign.
As the stars order'd, fuch my life has been;
Alas, alas, that ever love was fin!
Fair Venus gave me fire, and fprightly grace,
And Mars affurance, and a dauntless face,
By virtue of this pow'rful conftellation,
I follow'd always my own inclination.
IN ev'ry town where Thamis rolls his tide,
A narrow pass there is, with houses low;
Where ever and anon the stream is ey'd,
And many a boat, soft sliding to and fro.
There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
The short thick fob, loud fcream, and fhriller fquall:
How can ye, mothers, vex your children fo?
Some play, fome eat, fome cack against the wall,
And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.
And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a ftinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco fhop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs, are feeding by;
And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry.
At ev'ry door are fun-burnt matrons feen,
Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry,
Now finging fhrill, and fcolding eft between ;
Scolds answer foul-mouth'd fcolds; bad neighbour-
hood, I ween.
The fnappish cur, (the paffengers annoy)
Close at my heels with yelping treble flies;
The whimp'ring girl, and hoarfer screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble, fhrilling cries;
The fcolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those fhrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and fcolds, in the deep bafe
are drown'd.
Hard by a fty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billinfgate did watch,
Cod, whiting, oyfter, mackrel, fprat, or plaice:
There learn'd she speech from tongues that never
Slander befide her, like a magpie, chatters,
With Envy, (fpitting cat) dread foe to peace;
Like a curs'd cur, Malice before her clatters,
And vexing ev'ry wight, tears clothes and all to
Her dugs were mark'd by ev'ry Collier's hand,
Her mouth was black as bulldogs at the ftall:
She scratch'd, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band,
And Bitch and Rogue her answer was to all;
Nay, e'en the parts of fhame by name would call:
Yea, when the passed by or lane or nook,
Would greet the man who turn'd him to the wall,
And by his hand obfcene the porter took,
Nor ever did askance like modeft Virgin look.
Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,
Woolwich and Wapping, fmelling strong of pitch ;
Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown,
And Twick'nam fuch, which fairer fcenes enrich,
Grots, ftatues, urns, and Jo-n's dog and bitch,
Ne village is without, on either fide,
All up the filver Thames, or all adown,
Ne Richmond's felf from whofe tall front are ey'd Vales, fpires, meand'ring streams, and Windfor's. towr'y pride.
IMIT. OF ENGLISH POETS, V. 2. p. 4..
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