As Moore* cures worms in stomach bred,
I've pills cure maggots in the head;

With the receipts, too, how to take 'em,

I've got a ray of Phoebus' shine,

*

Found in the bottom of a mine;
A lawyer's conscience, large and fair,
Fit for a judge himself to wear.
I've a choice nostrum, fit to make
An oath a Catholic will take;

In a thumb-vial you shall see,

Close cork'd, some drops of honesty,
Which, after searching kingdoms round,

At last, were in a cottage found;
An antidote, if such there be,
Against the charms of flattery.
I ha'nt collected any care,

Of that there's plenty ev'ry where;
But after wond'rous labours spent,
I've got one grain of rich content.

• Moore, of Abchurch-lane, who sold the famous wormpowders.

This my wish, it is my glory,

To furnish your nicknackatory;

I only beg that when you show 'em,

You'll tell your friends to whom you owe 'em, Which may your other patients teach

To do, as has done your's, C. H.

(Written in February 1739-40.)

Donec gratus eram tibi, &c.

WINNINGTON.

FOR that short time that I alone was blest,
Singly admitted to that lovely breast,

There was no happier fellow in this town,

Not Essex, Bludworth, or the vig'rous Brown. ETHELREDA.

Whilst me you lov'd, beyond each earthly thing,
Nor Ethelreda was postpon'd to Bing;

I shone the foremost character in life,
Nor envy'd Walmod, or Lord Archi's wife.*
For Teddy Bing+ a passion now I feel,
Who both a Pichen and my heart could steal;

+ Lord Archibald Hamilton, father of the late Sir Wm. Hamilton, and of the Countess of Warwick and Brooke. He married the daughter of James sixth Earl of Abercorn, who was was mistress of the Robes and Privy Purse to the Princess of Wales, and Governess to King George III. in his infancy-she died 1753.

+ Edward Bing, fifth Son to the first Lord Torrington, was bred up in the Army.

To save whose life I'd stand all Hambden's fury, Bully the witnesses, and bribe the jury. WINNINGTON.

I have as odd a passion for my Kitty*
(The motley breed of quality and city).
Had I as many lives as twenty cats,

I'd give them all for one dear game at
What if to nature I again return,

And for thy beauteous form once more should

burn!

Should I quit Bing, would you take back your Winny,+

And love again as if the devil was in ye?

Tho' Kitty's full of sentiments refin'd,

Thou rough as seas, and fickle as the wind;
Tho' when I melt in tender Kitty's lap,

I fear no children, and I dread no

ETHELREDA.

With thee I'd choose to live, tho' sure to breed,

And take my Lord to bed, in case of need.

* Kitty Walker.

+ Mr. Winnington.

THE

COUNTRY GIRL;

AN ODE:

HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO THE EARL OF BATH.*

(Written and printed in July 1742.)

THE country girl that's well inclin'd
To love, when the young 'squire grows kind,
Doubts between joy and ruin;

Now will, and now will not comply,

To raptures now her pulse beats high,
And now she dreads undoing.

The pen of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams inflicted deeper wounds in three months on this Lord than a series of Craftsmen, aided by Lord Bolingbroke, for several years, could imprint on Sir Robert Walpole: the latter lost his power, but lived to see justice done to his character-his rival acquired no power, but died very rich; he is supposed to have had the principal hand in Mist and Fog's Journals, and the Craftsman.-W.