A MESSENGER was told, without delay, To take, with rapid steps, the convent way; He rang the bell--a monk enquired his name, And asked for what, or whom, the fellow came. I father Andrew want, the wight replied, Who's oft to Alice confessor and guide: With Andrew, cried the other, would you speak? If that's the case, he's far enough to seek; Poor man! he's left us for the regions blessed, And has in Paradise ten years confessed. THE KISS RETURNED AS WILLIAM walking with his wife was seen, A man of rank admired her lovely mien. Who gave you such a charming fair? he cried, May I presume to kiss your beauteous bride? With all my heart, replied the humble swain, You're welcome, sir:--I beg you'll not refrain; She's at your service: take the boon, I pray; You'll not such offers meet with ev'ry day. THE gentleman proceeded as desired; To get a kiss, alone he had aspired; So fervently howe'er he pressed her lip, That Petronella blushed at ev'ry sip. SEVEN days had scarcely run, when to his arms, The other took a wife with seraph charms; And William was allowed to have a kiss, That filled his soul with soft ecstatick bliss. Cried he, I wish, (and truly I am grieved) That when the gentleman a kiss received, From her I love, he'd gone to greater height, And with my Petronella passed the night. SISTER JANE WHEN Sister Jane, who had produced a child, In prayer and penance all her hours beguiled Her sister-nuns around the lattice pressed; On which the abbess thus her flock addressed: Live like our sister Jane, and bid adieu To worldly cares:--have better things in view. YES, they replied, we sage like her shall be, When we with love have equally been free. AN IMITATION OF ANACREON PAINTER in Paphos and Cythera famed Depict, I pray, the absent Iris' face. Thou hast not seen the lovely nymph I've named; The better for thy peace.--Then will I trace For thy instruction her transcendent grace. Begin with lily white and blushing rose, Take then the Loves and Graces... But what good Words, idle words? for Beauty's Goddess could By Iris be replaced, nor one suppose The secret fraud--their grace so equal shows. Thou at Cythera couldst, at Paphos too, Of the same Iris Venus form anew. ANOTHER IMITATION OF ANACREON