The Merry-Thought | Page 7

not with her Eyes, but with her - - ill Breath.
From a Window in the Inner Temple-Hall.
Come hither, Barristers of Dress, That once your Lips may meet Success: From Rufus' filthy Hall withdraw; Here only ye can live by Law.
A Rebus on Lady of Quality, on a Glass at the Old Devil Tavern.
What fly from her Eyes, and the Place whither I Must soon be convey'd to, unless she comply, Is the Name of the Beauty for whom I could die.
N. B. Darts and Shafts fly from her Eyes, and if one dies, one must be bury'd.
Under the Rebus on Lady Sh - - - bury, at the Devil Tavern, is this;
What opens a Door, and a Word of Offence, Tell the Name of a Nymph of Wit, Beauty, and Sense.
Supposed to be for Miss Ke - ly.
From the Window of a Chamber in the Inner Temple.
For dear Venilla in my Arms, I'd scorn all other female Charms; Ten thousand Beauties she can spare, And still be Fairest of the Fair.
From innumerable Windows.
Like Mars I'll fight, like Antony I'll love, I'll drink like Bacchus, and I'll whore like Jove.
From the Apollo, the large Dancing-Room in the Devil Tavern, written when some were engaged in a particular Country-Dance.
This Dance foretells that Couple's Life, Who mean to dance as Man and Wife; As here, they'll first with Vigour set, Give Hands, and turn whene'er they meet; But soon will quit their former Track, Cast off and end in Back to Back.
From the Angel Tavern, Temple-Bar.
'Tis hard! 'tis wonderous hard! That the Life of a Man Should be but a Span, And that of a Woman a Yard!
From a Watch-Maker's Window, Fleet-Street.
Here Time is bought and sold: 'Tis plain, my Friend, My Clocks and Watches shew what I intend; For you I Time correct, My Time I spend; By Time I live, But not one Inch will lend, Except you pay the ready down or send: I trust no Time, Unless the Times do mend.
On a Watch-Case in a Gentleman's Pocket, given him by a Lady.
The Wretched pray to make more Haste, The Happy say we fly too fast; Therefore impossible to know, Whether I go too fast or slow.
S. M.
At Hollyhead, I suppose, written by some Creation-Mender.
Arra, now what signifies the making the two great Lights? The Sun to light the Day, and the Moons to light the Nights: For the Sun in the Day-Time there is no Occasion, Because I can see very well after my Persuasion: But for the Moons, they are very good in a dark Night, Because when we cannot see they give us a Light.
Crown at Harlow.
Rail at your Father, rail at your Mother, Rail at your Sister, rail at your Brother, Rail on, my Boys, and rail at one another.
Underwritten.
Rail as you say, and you'll be all railed in.
Written upon the Wall of Clements-Inn, when the Dial was put up which is supported by a black Slave in a kneeling Posture.
In vain poor sable Son of Woe, Thou seek'st a tender Ear; In vain thy Tears with Anguish flow, For Mercy dwells not here: From Cannibals thou fly'st in vain, Lawyers less Quarter give; The first won't eat you till you're slain, The last will do't alive.
Hampstead on a Window.
I am a Dog ---- In true Fidelity I am a Sun ---- In faithful Constancy: I am a Stote, ---- To please a lustful Lass; I am a Hog, ---- And you may kiss my A----se. But if my Celia comes within my Ken; Then I shall be again like other Men.
On another at the same Place.
My Wife says, Whither do you go? And I return, my dear, I do not know; Then d----n your Blood, says she, to use me thus; And then I call her catterwauling Puss.
Hampton-Court, at the Mitre.
A Ramp of very noted Name, I need not say, for all Men know her Fame, Lascivious, as the human Race could be, She could not see a Man, but fell in Extasy.
On a dyer's Sign at Southwark.
I die to live, I live to die, And hope to live eternally.
At the Star at Coventry.
A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: By the Lord, cries She then, if my Husband e'er come, Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child.
S. M. 1708.
By Desire not to insert the Place.
What care I for Mistress May'ress; She's little as the Queen of Fairies: Her little Body like my Thumb, Is thicker far than other some; Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide; } Either on this, or t'other Side, } That none could