_Windsor, at the Cardinal's-Cap._

Now my Sun is retired, My Heart is all fired; My _Sylvia_'s lost And I am toss'd, Into Love's Flames, What shall I do to gain her?

Sure something must restrain her, Or else she'd come.

Then I'm undone.

Help me, dear _Cupid_, Or I shall grow stupid; And if you won't help me, Then _Bacchus_ protect me.

_R. M._ 1709.

_Greyhound, at Maidenhead._

Dear _Doll_ is a Prude, And I tumbled her down; And I tickled her Fancy For half a Crown.

_R. M----r_, _July_ 17. 1714.

_At the Same Place._

_CHLOE's Character._

Her Voice is as clear as the Stream; Her Character light as the Sun; Her Dealings are hard as a Stone; But her Promise as sure as a Gun.

_A. P - - pe_, 1712.

_At the same Place._

A Hog, a Monkey, and an a.s.s, } Were here last Night to drink a Gla.s.s, } When all at length it came to pa.s.s, } That the Hog and the Monkey, Grew so drunkey, That both were ready to kiss the A - - se of _Tom. Dingle_.

_April_ 17. 1710.

_At the White-Hart, Windsor._

How, do I fear my Lover will not come; And yet I bid him not: But should he come, Then let him read ----

Let _Man - - r - - ing_ love on, I will requite thee, Taming my wild Heart to thy loving Hand.

If thou dost love, my Kindness shall incite thee, To bind our Loves up in a holy Band.

_Anne Oph - - - lia_, 1708.

_Salisbury, at the King's-Arms; seemingly to give the Reason why Miles seem shorter in one Place than another._

When I set out from _London_, I tramp'd on the Way, } I was brisk, and my Courage and Heart was full gay; } So I fancy'd my Journey was nothing but Play, } But as I went forward, a Day or two longer, } The Miles seem'd more lengthen'd as I grew less stronger, } And I wish'd in this Case to grow younger and younger. }

_S. O._ _Oct._ 17. 1717.

I walk'd all the Way between _London_ and _Exeter_.

_At the Crown at Harlow._

When Daizies gay, and Violets blue, And Cowslips with their yellow Hue, And Lady's Smocks of Silver white, Paint all the Meadows with Delight, Then shall I meet my charming Fair, On ouzy Banks to take the Air; There shall we taste delicious Love, Equal to what is known Above.

_R. T. April_ 14. 1716.

_Upon a Window at the Old Crown at Ware in Hertfordshire; supposed to be wrote by a slighted Lover._

Go you false and faithless Fair, G.o.ds above forbid my Fate, First me Joys you do prepare, Then you Sorrows do create; For 'tis the Nature of your s.e.x, First to pleasure, then perplex, Happy's he without your Smiles.

Ever-blest he lives content; In exorbitant Exiles, Never can his Fate repent; All his Wishes and Desires, To destroy Love's burning Fires.

_R. C. June_ 14. 1731.

_At the Crown at Epping._

Tom. Rudge _won the Hat from_ George Redman.

_April_ 17. 1714.

He lifted with such Might and Strength, As would have hurl'd him twice his Length, And dash'd his Brains (if any) out: But _Mars_ that still protects the stout, In Pudding-Time came to his Aid.

Well done _Tom_; and _George_ was a clever Fellow too. _C. H._ 1714.

_Sent to the Compiler from a Drinking-Gla.s.s at Pontack's-Head Tavern in Fleet-Street._

Might all my Wishes but propitious prove, And all my Wants supply'd by mighty _Jove_; Give me dear _W----rs_, and I'll ask no more, But think her dearer than the golden Shower.

_C. M._

_Sent to the Compiler from the same._

_From the Bog-House at Pancras-Wells._

Hither I came in haste to sh-t, But found such Excrements of Wit, That I to shew my Skill in Verse, Had scarcely Time to wipe my A - - se.

_Underwritten._

D----n your Writing, Mind your Sh-t-ng.

_On a Wainscoat, at the Crown at Harlow._