The Merry-Thought Volume Ii Part 11

But oft oppress'd with Grief and pensive Care, I to enjoy such Happiness despair.

O wretched me! Celestial Pow'rs above!

O mighty Jove! what must I die for Love!

If you're inclin'd to cure the Wound you gave, Come quick, relieve, and save me from the Grave.

_Her Answer._

Unhappy Youth, pray trouble not your Mind, By mighty _Jove_, I swear I will be kind.

I swear by _Venus_, and the Pow'rs above; } By _Cupid_'s Darts, and all the Joys of Love, } To thee my Youth, my Swain, I'll ever constant prove. }

_Bog-House at Epsom-Wells._

Privies are now Receptacles of Wit, } And every Fool that hither comes to sh----t, } Affects to write what other Fools have writ. }

_Rain-Deer, Bishop-Stafford._

Hail charming Maid! hail my enchanting Fair, Thy Beauty's such, what Mortal can forbear?

Have Pity on a Youth's despairing Cries, Compa.s.sion shew, or else your Lover dies.

O that I but one good Enjoyment had!

Grant it me soon, or else I shall go mad.

_Her Answer._

Alas! poor Youth, if you go mad for Love, Seek your Relief from mighty _Jove_ above.

No Cure I have, my Body's chaste and pure; A wandering Youth I never can endure.

_Pancras-Wells._

I have had a Cl - p, By a sad Mishap; But the Doctor has cur'd it, And I've endur'd it.

The B - ch that gave it me, She is gone over Sea.

G - d d - n her A - se, That fir'd my T - se.

_Peac.o.c.k, Northampton._

I love dear _Betty_, and _Betty_ loves me; And it shall not be long before marry'd we be.

_Underwritten._

If you must make a Rhime upon your La.s.s, I'll make another----Rhimer kiss my A - se.

_Boar's-Head, Smithfield._

D - n their Doublets, and confound their Breeches, There's none besh - t the Wall but Sons of B - ches.

May the _French_ P - - x, and the D - - vil take 'em all, That besh - t their Fingers, and wipe them on the Wall.

_Lambeth-Wells Bog-House._

_Supposed to be wrote by one who had a great Antipathy to Tobacco._

This is a Place that's very fitting, To p - - ss, and f - - rt, to smoke, and sh - - t in.

_From a Window in a Great House in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields._

A good Wife is like a Turtle that bills and cooes, and turns up her T----l to her Husband.

_Kings-Head, Beaconsfield._

In Spring the Fields, in Autumn Hills, I love; At Morn the Plains, at Noon the shady Grove; But _Delia_ always, forc'd from _Delia_'s Sight, Nor Fields, nor Hills, nor Plains, nor Groves delight.

_At the same Place, 1731._

Love in Fas.h.i.+on, is Copulation.

_Le H----p._

_At the same Place._

The Brave and Wise would never hug The chearful Bottle and the Jug, Were not good Liquor in its Season, An useful Spur to human Reason.

_Probatum est_, W. T.

_At Rumford, in a Window._

There's Nothing sure can vex a Woman more Than to hear the Feats of Love, and be Threescore.

_Written on a Looking-Gla.s.s, in the Rue Boucharie, Paris._

Le Mond est plein de fous, & qui n'en veut point voir, Doit demeurer tout seul, & ca.s.ser son meroir.

The World is full of Fools and a.s.ses, To see them not---- retire and break your Gla.s.ses.

_Oxon, in a Bog-House._

With such violent Rage, Sir _John_ did engage With the Damsel which he laid his Leg on, That his Squire, who stood near, Swore it look'd like the Spear Of St. _George_ in the Mouth of the Dragon.