What care I, to acknowledge my Lord was my Father? } To inherit his Fortune and Weakness together; } If a Porter had got me with Health, I’d much rather. } _Rebus on Miss Jane Mar-tin._ To _spoil_ the _Cornish Ore_, Names the Nymph that I adore. _Rebus on Miss Bell-a-dine._ What in a Steeple bears a Sound? What in the Horn-Book first is found; And eat the Meal of glorious Noon; Give me, Great _Jove_, this Lady soon, Whose Name the first three Lines explain: Her Love’s my Life, my Death is her Disdain. _On Miss Hatt-on._ The Pride of Quaker _John_ Names the Nymph I dote upon. _Miss Willson._ What e’er a Woman wishes most, } And that which marry’d People boast, } Speaks the dear Charmer, who’s my Toast. } _Miss Hutch-in-son._ The Place were Rabbits are confin’d, The Place where Strangers are refresh’d; And what best pleas’d my Mother’s Mind, Tells you the Charmer of my Breast. _Miss Shuttle-worth._ What a Weaver will toss about all the Day long, } And a Value, whose Praise can’t be nam’d in my Song, } Tells the Name of my Charmer who’s witty and young. } _Miss Weathers._ Tell me her Name, whose Looks serene Shew her a Goddess, or a Queen; Who, if in turbulent Disguise, } Will make you shudder at her Eyes: } For _her_, all others I despise. } _Rebus on Miss Sukey Dart._ Her Name has pierc’d my Heart, } And so we’ll never part; } With her I ne’er can feel a Smart. } _Crown at Harlow._ Death and Marriage are by Destiny, And both these Things become a Maiden’s Fee. Whether they die between a Pair of Sheets, Or live to marry, they will lose their Wits; So is it destin’d by the Gods above, They’ll live and die by what _they_ love. R. T. 1721. _York, on a Window._ What signifies your chattering, dearest _Nancy_, And swearing d - n your Blood, to please your Fancy; For if your Scruples find that one won’t do, Z----ds, cock, and prime, and then take two. Captain J. F. 1729. _Uxbridge_, 1719. Various Religions, several Tenets hold; Yet all one God acknowledge, which is _Gold_. _Chester, in a Window_, 1726. A Fox was drawn in for Cakes and Ale, And by a fly Stratagem lost his Tail. ’Tis no Matter, says _Reynard_, by Dint of Persuasion, } I’ll make all my Brethren believe ’tis the Fashion, } Though at the same Time, he was in a d----d Passion. } _Underwritten._ ----Although they all come in, There’s none can laugh, but those that win. New Fashions are Gins that I mortally hate; I’ll keep my old Fashion, and keep my Estate. No coaxing, no wheedling, good Mr. Fox. _Recruiting Officer._ Getting is a Chance; but keeping is a Virtue. _Devil-Tavern_, 1721.