on a Late Marriage between an Old Maid and a French MaÎtre

Tho' Miss ­ ­ 's match is a subject of mirth
She consider'd the matter full well,
And wisely preferr'd leading one ape on earth
To perhaps a whole dozen in hell.

1796.

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on an Amorous Doctor

From Rufa's eye sly Cupid shot his dart,
And left it sticking in Sangrado's heart.
No quiet from that moment has he known,
And peaceful sleep has from his eyelids flown;
And opium's force, and what is more, alack!
His own orations cannot bring it back.
In short, unless she pities his afflictions,
Despair will make him take his own prescriptions.

1796.

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"There comes from old Avaro's grave..."

There comes from old Avaro's grave
A deadly stench; ­ why, sure, they have
Immured his soul within his grave!

1796.

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"Last Monday all the papers said..."

Last Monday all the papers said
That Mr. ­ ­ was dead;
Why, then, what said the city?
The tenth part sadly shook their head,
And shaking sigh'd, and sighing said,
"Pity, indeed, 'tis pity!"
But when the said report was found
A rumour wholly without ground,
Why, then, what said the city?
The other nine parts shook their head,
Repeating what the tenth had said,
"Pity, indeed, 'tis pity!"

1796.

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