_Underwritten._

Thou Puppy, ---- The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart, And drew the Fire to her lower Part.

_R. L._

_From the same Place._

After a tedious Journey, and my Supper, And dam----d uneasy with my Crupper, _Jenney_ came up to warm my Bed, } A pretty Girl; but I was dead, } Or else I'd had her Maidenhead. }

_R. T._

_Swan at Uxbridge._

Who's been here, The Devil I fear; For he's left the Bottles clear.

_R. Est----n_, 1710.

_Underwritten._

'Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle.

_G. S._ 1711.

_Boghouse at Uxbridge._

If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink, You may say, if you will, it is natural _Instinct_.

_Underwritten._

You may quibble upon the Word _Instinct_, if you will; but I think 'tis better out than in, considering the Case.

_I. M._ of _Oxon._

_Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in Drury-Lane, on a Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal._

Grant us good l.u.s.ty Men, ye gracious Pow'rs!

Or else stop up those craving Things of ours!

_From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near Cripplegate, written upon a Wall._

Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal, Will make a T d more lasting; Therefore I think he is a Fool, That goes out in a Morning fasting.

_Tom. Rudge._

We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast.

When I lay with my bouncing _Nell_, I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell: But I think in this Case it was d.a.m.nable hard, When I gave her an Inch, she'd want more than a Yard.

_Hampstead, at the Flask._

Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, _says one of the Greek Philosophers_.

_Hoxton, on a Wall._

What Difference between Kings T - - - ds and mine?

One may be costive, one be full of Slime; Yet equally will any Hog that feeds, Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs.

_Underwritten._

You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself.

_Hampstead, at the Flask._

Tell me why, ye gen'rous Swains?

Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains?

Why does _Sylvia_ leave the Green?

Has she done any Thing obscene?

They all reply'd, Your _Sylvia_'s gone; For she will do't with ev'ry one.

_From the Red Lyon at Egham._

She that thinks upon her Honour, Needs no other Guard upon her.

_Underwritten._

She that has a Man upon her, Never thinks upon her Honour.

_In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin._

You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use, Pray lick 'em clean, and don't this Wall abuse.

_Under which is written;_

These House-of-Office Poets, by the L - - - d, Instead of Laurel, should be crown'd with T - - - d.

_In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the Road to West Chester._

Host! wou'd you paint your Crosses to the Life, Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife.