  Mr. BOG, The following Miscellanea Curiosa you may either insert in your third Part, or use them for your latter Part; which you please. From a Window at the Angel in Marlborough.W——s lay at the Angel in Marlborough Town, And an Angel lay with him all Night: He tipp’d her an Angel before she lay down, Which you know was but decent and right. But an Angel of Darkness she prov’d to be sure; For scarce twenty Angels would pay for his Cure. Written on the Wall at the George in Sandy-Lane, in the Bath Road, aPlace famous for Puddings.The Puddings are so good in Sandy-Lane, That if I chance to go that Way again, I’ll not be satisfy’d, unless I’ve twain, The one stuck thick with Plumbs, the other plain. At the Sun-Tavern at Billingsgate, written on the Wainscot.Upon the Ground he spread his Cloak; The Nymph she was not shy, Sir; And there they fairly did the Joke, Whilst through this Crack peep’d I, Sir. Underwritten.Mr. Pimp, had I known your Worship was there, Which I no more dreamt of, than sleeping, When once I’d dispatch’d my Affair with the Fair, By G——d, you’d paid dear for your Peeping. At the Red-Lion, Shrewsbury.The Drawer, Tom, has scarce forgot, Since I was here last Easter; I broke his Head with the Pewter Pot, And gave him not a Teaster. But why, d’ye think, I serv’d him so? What Flesh alive could bear it? I’d call’d a dozen Times, I trow, Yet the Dog would bring no Claret. This Discipline was not in vain, For h’as his Manners mended; I’ve been here twenty Times since then, And always well attended. From a Window in Carlisle, the Sign forgot.How says the Proverb, can it e’er be thought, What’s bred i’th’ Bone can out o’the Flesh be brought: Her Mother kiss’d with every one, and Moll does plainly shew her; For Molly kind is kiss’d by none, but only all that know her. From another Pane in the same Place.As dear N——y B——k look’d into the Street, From this Window where now I am musing, I poop’d her behind, but no Body see’t, And she prov’d ne’er the worse for my using. Underwritten.Ungrateful Wretch, thou’rt scarcely fit to live, Much less such Favours worthy to receive. A greater Curse than leading Apes in Hell, The Fool deserves, that dares to kiss and tell. On the next Pane.Dear Madam, pray dont let your Anger abound, For Faith what you’ve wrote has no Charm in’t; You often have try’d me, and know I am sound, Then prithee now where was the Harm in’t? You did me a favour, I did you one too, And, if I’m not mistaken, a greater; I’ll swear I can’t love the Sport better than you, So pray say no more of the Matter. In a Bog-House, at the Bush at Carlisle, 1718.Reader, Within this Place two Ways I’ve been delighted; For here I’ve s——, and likewise here have sh——d. They both are healthful, Nature’s Ease require ’em And though you grin, I fancy you desire ’em. Underwritten.What Beast alive, could bear to s—— In such a filthy Hole as this is; The nauseous Stink, might, one would think, Disturb his Taste for amorous Kisses. Underwritten.This was wrote by some Beau, the Fop you may know, His squeamish Exception would make one believe it; Though the Smell where we sh——t, is not grateful a Bit, Yet I ne’er knew a C——y that favour’d of Civet. Oxon, on a Window.Knowledge, thou Darling of the Soul, Be thou my Help-Mate o’er a flowing Bowl; Then will my Time slide easily along, And ev’ry gen’rous Mortal grace our Song. Underwritten.D——n your Knowledge, says Captain Blunt, swear, drink, and smoke, and you’re an honest Fellow. At the Devices, Wiltshire.Peggy came in with a smiling Face, And every Feature had its Grace: Her Cheeks were blooming, as I’d wish to see; Her something else above her Knee, Fill’d all my Mind with Extasy; And so we went to’t. Bath, on Harrison’s Windows.I kiss’d her standing, Kiss’d her lying, Kiss’d her in Health, And kiss’d her dying; And when she mounts the Skies, I’ll kiss her flying. Underwritten.Well said, my Boy. Witney, on a Window.Debauch’d by Henry Rig, Who gave me a Jigg, But not one Grigg: Howe’er he ran his Rigg. But if ever I touch a Man again, Unless in Matrimonial Chain, I’ll rather suffer craving Pain, I think; —— —— Or take it once again. For t’has set me a longing. At the same Place.Give me the Lass who has a Taste of Love; She I will kiss luxuriously, by Jove; But when I meet a Woman’s cold Embrace, She baulks my Love; and she may kiss my A--se. Oxon, Merton-College, on a Window.Bright is my Silvia, when she’s drest; When naked, cloath’d with wond’rous Charms: Her Mein has oft my Heart opprest; Her Nakedness I have possest; And by the last I am distrest, By the Embraces of her Arms. What can we Mortals say of Love? Why? ’Tis the Pleasure of the Gods above: But then, if Cl-ps proceed from Love, How hot are all the Gods and Goddesses above! A fine Reward, for Love for Love! Underwritten.Avoid the Thunder-Clps, and After-Clps, says Jove. A young Lady, who hang’d herself, left the following Lines upon the Table.O Death! thou pleasing End of human Woe! Thou Cure of Life, thou best of Things below! May’st thou for ever shun the Coward Slave, And thy soft Slumbers only ease the Brave! At the Bull-Inn, at Ware.On Miss J——s.My Good or Ill in her alone is found, And in that Thought all other Cares are drown’d. Woodstock, in a Window.Have you not in a Chimney seen A sullen Faggot, wet and green, How coyly it receives the Heat, And at both Ends doth fume and sweat; So fares it with the harmless Maid When first upon her Back she’s laid. But the kind experienc’d Dame Cracks and rejoices in the Flame. Merton-College, Oxon, in a Window.A new Reading about the three Children in the Fiery Furnace. From the Hebrew.Shadrack, Mashac, and Abednego: If Shadrac had a Fever and Ague, Then read in English, Shadrack may shake, and a bed may go. Star, at Coventry.What Lacing, What Dressing, What Moulding, What Scolding, What Painting, What Fainting, What Loving, What Shoving, What Cooing, What Wooing, What Crosses, What Tosses, What Actions, What Fractions, Before the Day was done. Salisbury, on a Window.My Dear, like a Candle, Lights every one’s Handle, Yet loses no Bit of her own: She will piss, and she’ll kiss Until every one hiss, And she better had stay’d at Home. As she lost nothing by it, she may still remain a Light to the World. Anagram.A Toast is like a Sot, Or what is most Comparable —— a Sot, —— Is like a Toast; For When their Substance In the Liquor sink, Both properly are said To be in Drink. Christ-Church, Oxon, in the Bog-House.Calami hujus Etatis Sunt hujus Etatis calamitates. Calais, at the Silver Lion.At the Foot of a Bed where a Woman lay dying, A Parcel of Gossips in Council were sat; And instead of good Prayers, condoling and crying, A Thing was the Subject of all the Debate. One wish’d for a thick one, and swore ’twas the best, Altho’ ’twere as short to the full as her Snout; But a small One procur’d the Applause of the rest, Provided in Length the Defect were made out. Hold, quoth the sick Sister, you are all in the Wrong, So I’ll in a Case of this Weight to decide, Heav’n send me at once both the Thick and the Long; So closing her pious Petition, she dy’d. Written on the pillory in a certain Market-Town in Shropshire; on two Millers, named Bone and Skin, who exacted extravagant Toll.Bone and Skin, Two Millers thin, Would grind this Town and Places near it: But be it known To Skin and Bone, That Flesh and Blood won’t bear it. Richmond, Yorkshire, on a Window.If Death doth come as soon as Breath departs; Then he must often die, who often farts: And if to die be but to lose one’s Breath; Then Death’s a Fart, and so a Fart for Death. The Motto upon a Sign of a Gardiner’s Window, who kept a Publick House in the Road to Cambridge; inserted for the Benefit of bad Spellers.Heer is good Liker Ov awl Quinds toby sould, And sevile Yewzitch. The Learned have examin’d the above Inscription: Some took it for Gibberish; others for Welch; and some for one of the Eastern Languages; but a Gentlewoman of extraordinary Knowledge in this cramp Way of Writing, tells us, it must be read thus, in English: Here is good Liquor Of all Kinds to be sold, And civil Usage. And so we believe it was meant; for it is allow’d by all, that some few of the fair Sex can explain bad Sense and bad Spelling, even better than most of the Heads of the Universities. Oxford, in a Window at Christ-Church.Anger may glance into the Breast of wise Men: But it rests in the Bosom of Fools. From the Same Place.True Friendship multiplies our Joys; It mends our Griefs, and makes them light as Toys. From Queen’s-College, Oxon.All that we know of what is done above, Is, that the Blessed sing, and that they love. Rue de Boucharie.Amasser en Saison, Dispenser par Raison, Et vous aurez une bonne Maison. In a Window at an Inn on the West Country Road.The Cook, confound her, boil’d no Roots; The Hostler never clean’d my Boots; The Tapster too, would hardly stir; The Drawer was a lazy Cur; The Chamberlain had made no Bed; The Host had Maggots in his Head: But Millicent, who kept the Bar, Was worse than all the rest by far; She was as many others are. I kiss’d her till she had her Fill, I thought it Love, and with her Will. But then —— —— —— She made a da——n’d confounded Bill. Underwritten.See the Bill Gentlemen. Thrice was I reckon’d for my Meat; Thrice was I reckon’d for Miss Milly’s treat; Thrice was I reckon’d for my dirty Boots; Thrice was I reckon’d for not having Roots; Thrice was I reckon’d by the lazy Fellows; And thrice I swore, I wish’d them at the Gallows; And if I come here any more, Then call me a Son of a Whore. Rue D’Auphine, at Paris.O Quelle Grand Traison! Les Couillions que je porte Lors que leur MaÎtre est en prison Ces Gallans d’ausant a la porte. N. B. This is not render’d into English, but ’tis Ingratitude enough for two Servants, that have been well entertained a long while by their Master, should dance about a Prison Door, while their Master is init. On a Window at the Ram, Newmarket.Come hither, dearest, sweetest Turtle-Dove; You are my Goddess.—You alone I love. At Night, whene’er I close my Eyes to Rest, I dream of laying in your snow-white Breast. But oft oppress’d with Grief and pensive Care, I to enjoy such Happiness despair. O wretched me! Celestial Pow’rs above! O mighty Jove! what must I die for Love! If you’re inclin’d to cure the Wound you gave, Come quick, relieve, and save me from the Grave. Her Answer.Unhappy Youth, pray trouble not your Mind, By mighty Jove, I swear I will be kind. I swear by Venus, and the Pow’rs above; By Cupid’s Darts, and all the Joys of Love, To thee my Youth, my Swain, I’ll ever constant prove. Bog-House at Epsom-Wells.Privies are now Receptacles of Wit, And every Fool that hither comes to sh——t, Affects to write what other Fools have writ. Rain-Deer, Bishop-Stafford.Hail charming Maid! hail my enchanting Fair, Thy Beauty’s such, what Mortal can forbear? Have Pity on a Youth’s despairing Cries, Compassion shew, or else your Lover dies. O that I but one good Enjoyment had! Grant it me soon, or else I shall go mad. Her Answer.Alas! poor Youth, if you go mad for Love, Seek your Relief from mighty Jove above. No Cure I have, my Body’s chaste and pure; A wandering Youth I never can endure. Pancras-Wells.I have had a Cl-p, By a sad Mishap; But the Doctor has cur’d it, And I’ve endur’d it. The B-ch that gave it me, She is gone over Sea. G-d d-n her A-se, That fir’d my T-se. Peacock, Northampton.I love dear Betty, and Betty loves me; And it shall not be long before marry’d we be. Underwritten.If you must make a Rhime upon your Lass, I’ll make another——Rhimer kiss my A-se. Boar’s-Head, Smithfield.D-n their Doublets, and confound their Breeches, There’s none besh-t the Wall but Sons of B-ches. May the French P--x, and the D--vil take ’em all, That besh-t their Fingers, and wipe them on the Wall. Lambeth-Wells Bog-House.Supposed to be wrote by one who had a great Antipathy to Tobacco.This is a Place that’s very fitting, To p--ss, and f--rt, to smoke, and sh--t in. From a Window in a Great House in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields.A good Wife is like a Turtle that bills and cooes, and turns up her T——l to her Husband. Kings-Head, Beaconsfield.In Spring the Fields, in Autumn Hills, I love; At Morn the Plains, at Noon the shady Grove; But Delia always, forc’d from Delia’s Sight, Nor Fields, nor Hills, nor Plains, nor Groves delight. At the same Place, 1731.Love in Fashion, is Copulation. At the same Place.The Brave and Wise would never hug The chearful Bottle and the Jug, Were not good Liquor in its Season, An useful Spur to human Reason. At Rumford, in a Window.There’s Nothing sure can vex a Woman more Than to hear the Feats of Love, and be Threescore. Written on a Looking-Glass, in the Rue Boucharie, Paris.Le Mond est plein de fous, & qui n’en veut point voir, Doit demeurer tout seul, & casser son meroir. The World is full of Fools and Asses, To see them not—— retire and break your Glasses. Oxon, in a Bog-House.With such violent Rage, Sir John did engage With the Damsel which he laid his Leg on, That his Squire, who stood near, Swore it look’d like the Spear Of St. George in the Mouth of the Dragon. On a Drinking-Glass.Guard well your Credit, for ’tis quickly gone: ’Tis gain’d by many Actions, lost by one. At York, in a Window.When Mr. H—— was chosen Mayor, We thought our Peace stood very fair, And hollow’d when he took the Chair. But see how Mortals may prove civil, They change their State from Good to Evil: Set a Beggar on Horseback, he’ll ride to the Devil. And so it prov’d. From a Window in Yorkshire.Sir —— was chosen our Recorder, Hoping he’d put our Wrongs in Order: But, in Truth, the young Gentleman prov’d such a Rake, That he kiss’d all our Wives, and made all our Heads ake. Uxbridge, the Crown.Puns have two evil Ends: Sometimes they gain us Foes, Sometimes they make us lose our Friends. At Epping, in a Window.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. 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. 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. Getting is a Chance; but keeping is a Virtue. Devil-Tavern, 1721.Whene’er a Man has gain’d his Ends, He is encompass’d by his Friends; But when that Man has lost his All, And wants his Friends, he’as none at all. In gay Prosperity we see, That ev’ry one will bend the Knee, And treat you with their Flattery; But in a contrary State, When Gaiety’s destroy’d by Fate, The Man they lov’d before, ———————— They hate. In a Bog-House over the Water, at the Spread-Eagle in Bunny in Nottinghamshire.The nicest Maid, with the whitest Rump, May sit and sh——te, and hear it plump. On a Glass Window in the same Place.For what did Venus love Adonis, But for the Gristle, where no Bone is? In a Bog-House at the Nag’s-Head in Bradmere.The greatest Monarch, when a fighting, Looks not so great as I, when sh——ting. In the same Place.Such Places as these, Were made for the Ease Of every Fellow in common; But a Person who writes On the Wall as he sh——tes, Has a Pleasure far greater than Woman. For he’s eas’d in his Body, and pleas’d in his Mind, When he leaves both a T——d and some Verses behind. Underwritten.You are eas’d in your Body, and pleas’d in your Mind, That you leave both a T——d and some Verses behind; But to me, which is worst, I can’t tell, on my Word, The reading your Verses, or smelling your T——d. From a Church Door.On an Eminent Physician’s being called out of Church.Whilst holy Prayers to Heaven were made, One soon was heard, and answer’d too, Save us from sudden Death, was said, And strait from Church Sir H—— withdrew. From the Four Swans at Uxbridge.There’s none but the Vicious, or the Base, That false Reports can trouble or disgrace: The virtuous Man must ever stand secure ’Gainst all the Lies which Falsehood can procure: For a sound Mind or Conscience gives a Peace, Which to Eternity can never cease. Underwritten.D——n your conscientious Rascals; there’s so few of them in this Age, that a Man appears singular who is govern’d thereby. Rumford, on a Window.How shall the Man e’er turn to dust Who daily wets his Clay. Underwritten.In Dust he may fly As Fools gallop by, And no body can say Nay.
|
|
