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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20535-0.txt b/20535-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cfd8de2 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4148 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and +Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany + Parts 2, 3 and 4 + +Author: Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +Commentator: Maximillian E. Novak + +Contributor: James Roberts + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + [Transcriber’s Note: + + The texts cited use a variety of long and short dashes, generally with + no relationship to the number of letters omitted. For this e-text, + short dashes are shown as separated hyphens, while longer dashes are + shown as connected hyphens: + + D - - - n _Molley H----ns_ for her Pride. + + Groups of vertical braces } represent a single brace encompassing + three-- in one case, four-- rhymed lines.] + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + + The Augustan Reprint Society + + THE + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + Glass-Window and Bog-House + MISCELLANY. + + + Parts 2, 3, and 4 + (1731-?) + + + _Introduction by_ + MAXIMILLIAN E. NOVAK + + + Publication Number 221-222 + WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY + University of California, Los Angeles + 1983 + + + + +GENERAL EDITOR + + David Stuart Rodes, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + +EDITORS + + Charles L. Batten, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Thomas Wright, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +ADVISORY EDITORS + + Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_ + William E. Conway, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Phillip Harth, _University of Wisconsin, Madison_ + Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_ + Earl Miner, _Princeton University_ + James Sutherland, _University College, London_ + Norman J. W. Thrower, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + John M. Wallace, _University of Chicago_ + + +PUBLICATIONS MANAGER + + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +CORRESPONDING SECRETARY + + Beverly J. Onley, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +EDITORIAL ASSISTANT + + Frances Miriam Reed, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +In an address to the American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies at +the 1983 annual meeting, Roger Lonsdale suggested that our knowledge of +eighteenth-century poetry has depended heavily on what our anthologies +have decided to print. For the most part modern anthologies have, in +turn, drawn on collections put together at the end of the eighteenth +century and the beginning of the next, when the ideal for inclusion was +essentially that of “polite taste.” The obscene, the feminine, and the +political were by general cultural agreement usually omitted. Lonsdale +is not the only scholar questioning the basis of the canon; indeed, +revisionism is fast becoming one of the more ingenious--and +useful--parlor games among academics. Modern readers are no longer so +squeamish about obscenity nor so uncomfortable with the purely personal +lyric as were the editors at the end of the eighteenth century. And we +are hardly likely to find poetry written by women objectionable on that +score alone. In short, the anthologies we depend upon are out of date. + + +Among the works that would never have been a source of poems for the +canon, and one mentioned by Lonsdale, was the collection of verse +published in four parts by J. Roberts beginning in 1731, _The +Merry-Thought: or, the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_, commonly +known simply as _The Bog-House Miscellany_. Its contemporary reputation +may be described as infamous. James Bramston, in his _The Man of Taste_ +(1733), mentioned it as an example in poetry of the very opposite of +“good Taste” (ARS 171 [1975], 7). Polite taste, of course, is meaningful +only if it can define itself by what it excludes, and nothing could be +in worse taste than a collection of pieces written on windows, carved in +tables, or inscribed on the walls of Britain’s loos. + +Just as the compilers of a modern work, _The Good Loo Guide_, were +parodying a well-known guide book to British restaurants, so the unknown +authors of _The Merry-Thought_ had some notion, however discontinuous, +of parodying the nation’s polite literature. Were not Pope and Swift +famous for their distinguished miscellanies? What could be more amusing +than a collection of poems that represented a different poetic +ideal--a collection of verse with none of the pretensions to artistic +merit claimed by the superstars of the poetic world--the spontaneous +productions of nonpoets in moments of idleness or desperation. +Apparently some of the inscribers in the bog-houses used excrement +as a medium for--as well as a subject of--their inscriptions. _The +Merry-Thought_, then, is not even the kind of art that Dryden attacked +in _MacFlecknoe_ and Pope in his _Dunciad_--the work of bad poets +masquerading as geniuses.[1] Rather, it is a primitive form of folk art +produced as a more or less spontaneous act of play or passion, and +achieving some small degree of respectability only when practiced by a +respected poet and collected with his more serious verse.[2] Like modern +“serial” graffiti, it could function as a form of communication since +the first inscriptions often provoked those who followed to make their +own contributions. + + [Footnote 1: On the other hand, the willingness of publishers to + bring out such material would have suited well enough with Pope’s + picture of heir heroic games. See Alexander Pope, _The Dunciad_, ed. + James utherland, Twickenham Edition, 2d ed., rev. (London: Methuen, + 1953), 97-306, bk 2, lines 17-220.] + + [Footnote 2: See, for example, W. H. Auden’s “Academic Graffiti,” in + Collected Poems_, ed. Edward Mendelsohn (London: Faber and Faber, + 976), 510-18. Such a verse as the following is more clever than most + raffiti, but like ordinary graffiti it remains essentially + “unpoetic”: Lord Byron / Once succumbed to a Siren. / His flesh was + weak, / Hers reek.”] + +Indeed, one of the more interesting aspects of graffiti is that in an +impermanent form it testifies to the continuance over the centuries of +certain human concerns. Recent studies of graffiti have often focused on +particular modern conflicts between races or nations, on drug problems, +and on specific political commentary.[3] But such local matters aside, +the content of modern graffiti is surprisingly like that of earlier +periods: scatological observations, laments of lovers, accusations +against women for their sexual promiscuity, the repetition of “trite” +poems and sayings, and messages attributed to various men and women +suggesting their sexual availability and proficiency. And if the +political targets have changed over the years, many of the political +attitudes have remained consistent. Graffiti is an irreverent form, with +strong popular and anti-establishment elements. As actions common to all +classes, eating, drinking, defecation, and fornication find their lowly +record in graffiti-like form. + + [Footnote 3: See, for example, Elizabeth Wales and Barbara Brewer, + “Graffiti in the 1970’s,” _Journal of Social Psychology_ 99 (1976): + 115-23.] + +On the most basic level, a writer will observe that the excrement of +the rich differs in no way from that of the poor. Thus one poem, taken +supposedly from a “Person of Quality’s Boghouse,” has the following +sentiment: + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + (Pt. 2, p. 25) + +There is nothing very polite about such observations, and no pretension +to art. These verses belong strictly to folklore and the sociology of +literature, but they suggest some continuing rumbles of discontent +against the class system, the existence among the lower orders of some +of the egalitarian attitudes that survived the passing of the Lollards +and the Levellers. Who were the writers of these pieces? Were they +indeed laborers? Or were they from the lower part of what was called the +“middle orders”? Is there some evidence to be found in the very fact +that they could write? + +Graffiti may, indeed, tell us something about degrees of literacy. One +wit remarked that whatever the ability to read or write may have been at +the time, almost everyone seemed to have been literate when presented +with a bog-house wall: “Since all who come to Bog-house write” (pt. 2, +p. 26). The traditional connection between defecation and writing was +another comparison apparent to the commentators. One wrote: + + There’s Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + (Pt. 2, p. 13) + +And the lack of some paper or material to clean the rear end provoked +the following sentiment in the form of a litany: + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear’d with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee’r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_---- + (Pt. 4, p. 7) + +Other types of graffiti, however, vary from the very earnest expression +of affection to the nonexcrementally satiric. One of the more unusual is +a poem in praise of a faithful and loving wife: + + 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. + (Pt. 3, p. 5) + +Underneath this poem, _The Merry-Thought_ records a favorable comment on +the sentiment. Even more earnest is the complaint of a woman about her +fate in love: + + Since cruel Fate has robb’d me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I’ll ne’er love more, dispairing e’er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + (Pt. 2, p. 12) + +We will never know why she was unable to marry the man she truly loved; +but her bitterness may have been short-lived. Just after this +inscription comes a cynical comment identifying the lady as a member of +the Walker family. And the writer insists that like all women she was +inconstant, since he kissed her the next night. + +This cynical approach to love and women dominates _The Merry-Thought_. +Part three, for instance, contains a poem that reads like a parody of +Belinda awaking in the first canto of Pope’s _Rape of the Lock_. The +author, identified as W. Overb - - ry, presents a realistic morning +scene without either the charms and beauties that surround Pope’s +Belinda or the viciousness and focus of Swift’s similar pictures (see +pt. 3, p. 26). + +Prevailingly, women are depicted as sexually insatiable, as in a piece +written by a man who takes a month’s vacation from sex to recoup his +strength (pt. 2, p. 12). And the related image of the female with a +sexual organ capable of absorbing a man plays a variation on the vagina +dentata theme (e.g., pt. 2, pp. 19, 24). A drawing of a man hanging +himself for love raises a considerable debate on whether such a thing +can indeed occur (pt. 2, pp. 17-18). In a more realistic vein, though +equally cynical, is the poem on the woman who complained of her husband +making her pregnant so often: + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e’er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I’ll storm, and I’ll swear, and I’ll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + S. M. 1708. + (Pt. 2, pp. 10-11) + +S. M. is clearly unsympathetic to the plight of married women in an age +with only the most primitive forms of birth control.[4] The picture of +her as a long-suffering person is undercut by the casual male assumption +that giving birth was not really dangerous and that women make too much +of the pain and difficulty. That women were often forced to go through +thirteen or fourteen deliveries when little thought had yet been given +to creating an antiseptic environment for childbirth is apparently of +little concern to S. M., who finds in the apparent willingness of the +woman to have sexual intercourse one more time sufficient reason for +contempt. + + [Footnote 4: For an account of the horrors associated with + childbirth, see Lawrence Stone, _The Family, Sex, and Marriage in + England, 1500-1800_ (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 79-80.] + +In addition to giving glimpses into social attitudes, _The +Merry-Thought_ has a variety of inscriptions that show the way these +writings functioned. Professor George Guffey, in his introduction to +the first part of this work (ARS 216 [1982], iii-iv), remarks upon the +proposal scene carried on in _Moll Flanders_ between Moll and the +admirer who will prove her third husband and her brother. Such scenes +involving witty proposals and responses cut into the windows of taverns +were real enough at the time. The exchange in part two of _The +Merry-Thought_ is not, however, half so satisfactory. The woman takes +umbrage at her admirer’s suggestions that the glass on which he writes +is “the Emblem” of her mind in being “brittle, slipp’ry, [and] +pois’nous,” and writes in retort: + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can’t prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + (Pt. 2, p. 27) + +Though an easy cynicism about women’s availability and about the +body’s insistently animal functions predominates, there is enough +variety in _The Merry-Thought_ to provide something of a picture of +eighteenth-century society were any future anthropologist to come +upon this volume as the sole remnant of that period. He would see a +society engaged rather more in animal functions than in intellectual +pursuits--a society rather more concerned with drinking, love, and +defecation than the picture presented by the polite and intellectual +literature of the time allowed. But he would also find in the satirical +squibs on Corny, the Cambridge bookseller and printer, evidence of +learning and university life (pt. 2, pp. 4-6) as well as a criticism of +opera (pt. 2, pp. 14-16). He would see numerous young men longing for +their mistresses to soften their hearts toward them, and cynical older +men who had lost their illusions about love. But he could also come upon +a straight piece of philosophy taken from the still fashionable Flask +tavern in Hampstead (pt. 2, p. 24) or lowly bits of pious folk wisdom +(pt. 2, p. 10). More often, however, he would uncover a society in which +there was little of the generalized style that characterizes even the +most personal formal poetry of the period. Many of the writers identify +themselves and the names of the women they love or detest. In short, if +these volumes do little else, they do provide a vivid glimpse into the +personal life of the time, and to that extent an injection of some of +these inscriptions into the anthologies of the period might help in +providing a lively and piquant context for the serious artistic +production of writers like Gay and Swift. + + +The announced “publisher” of this olio was one Hurlothrumbo, a character +drawn from the theatrical piece of that name by Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire (1691-1773). Professor Guffey has proposed that James Roberts, +for whom the four parts were printed, “was almost certainly the +collector of the graffiti” and that the name of Hurlothrumbo was invoked +in order to attract some of the attention that Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire and his play were still receiving two years after the play’s +first performance and publication.[5] But Roberts would appear an +unlikely candidate for the role of editor;[6] I would suggest, rather, +the possibility of a more direct and active connection with Samuel +Johnson of Cheshire: that he was himself likely the compiler of the +four parts of _The Merry-Thought_ and that, whatever the individual +versifiers may have intended, this infamous collection of graffiti--_as +collection_--shares very closely with Johnson’s other work a spirit of +wild variety, eccentric juxtaposition, and essential anarchism that is +meant to lead, not to clever parody of polite literature, but to a new, +almost apocalyptic vision of the sublime. + + [Footnote 5: See ARS 216, x, n. 12. Professor Guffey offers + parallels between _The Merry-Thought_ and _Hurlothrumbo_ in + “Graffiti, Hurlo Thrumbo, and the Other Samuel Johnson,” _Forum: + A Journal of the Humanities and Fine Arts_ 17 (1979): 35-47.] + + [Footnote 6: Michael Treadwell has demonstrated that the “trade + publishers” of the eighteenth century, such as James Roberts, acted + almost exclusively as binders and distributors of books and were + therefore different in kind from the printers and booksellers, who + were directly involved in the selection and production process. + Roberts and the other “trade publishers” dealt almost exclusively in + “works belonging to others,” and Treadwell singles out Roberts as + the purest example. Despite putting his name to “literally thousands + of works,” he never purchased any of the copyrights on works during + his long career. See “London Trade Publishers, 1675-1750,” + _Library_, 6th ser., 4 (1982): 99-134.] + +At the first level, _Hurlothrumbo: Or, The Super-Natural_ (1729) itself +appears to be quite simply a parody, in this case of opera in the form +of a work mixing dialogue and song in a manner similar to but much +wilder than Gay’s _Beggar’s Opera_. Johnson’s apparent takeoff on the +heroics of opera managed to include in its attack a commentary upon the +absurdity of contemporary tragedy as well as some specific references to +those works that aimed at the sublime. Lines like “This World is all a +Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav’d with Diamonds” (48) seem to call the +very nature of metaphor into question, especially when juxtaposed with +other delirious lines such as “Rapture is the Egg of Love, hatched +by a radiant Eye” (14) or by songs such as that sung by the king on +contemplating the effects of swallowing gunpowder and brandy together: + + Then Lightning from the Nostrils flies. + Swift Thunder-bolts from Anus, and the Mouth will break, + With Sounds to pierce the Skies, and make the Earth to quake. + (P. 42) + +_Hurlothrumbo_ may be mostly nonsense, but from the standpoint of +literary history, it is highly significant nonsense. It represented a +revolt against all dramatic conventions and shared a number of qualities +with graffiti, including the sense of spontaneity. + +Had Johnson’s intention been something as relatively uncomplicated as +literary parody he would have achieved some minor fame in a century +which could boast any number of geniuses who had specialized in deriding +the pretentiousness of the more established literary forms, particularly +tragedy, the epic, and the pastoral. But Johnson of Cheshire lacked the +aesthetic distance required of sustained irony and had a grander purpose +in mind. His tradition was not that of the parodist but rather that of +the visionary--the mystic whose tendency is to merge the high and the +low, the sublime and the absurd, within a single work.[7] He was not +attacking the extravagant rants of the heroic play as Fielding was to do +in his _Tragedy of Tragedies_ (1731) or reflecting on opera and pastoral +as Gay had done in _The Beggar’s Opera_ (1728); rather he was trying, +however unsuccessfully, to maintain his own work at the highest reaches +of sublimity. He was like one of Pope’s “_Flying Fishes_,” who “now and +then rise upon their fins and fly out of the Profound; but their wings +are soon dry, and they drop down to the bottom.”[8] + + [Footnote 7: See Martin Pops, “The Metamorphosis of Shit,” + _Salmagundi_ 56 (1982): 27-61.] + + [Footnote 8: Alexander Pope, _Peri Bathous_, in _Literary Criticism + of Alexander Pope_, ed. Bertrand A. Goldgar (Lincoln: University of + Nebraska Press, 1965), 54.] + +In his preface to _The Blazing Comet; or the Beauties of the Poets_ +(1732), Johnson of Cheshire noted that “the same thought that makes the +Fool laugh, may make the wise Man sigh” (ix). Given such an equivocal +approach to the ways in which the audience responded to his work, the +poet could easily shrug off audience laughter to his most “Sublime” +lines. He was always ready “to leap up in Extasy; and dip ... [his] Pen +in the Sun” (iv). Parts of _Hurlothrumbo_, particularly the scene +between Lady Flame and Wildfire (both of whom are described in the list +of characters as “mad”) in which Wildfire threatens to cast off his +clothes and “run about stark naked” (48), bear an odd resemblance to +“The King’s Cameleopard” in _Huckleberry Finn_. But the disconnected +verbal structure, along with the music and dancing, achieves a strange +mixture that must have amused and, to a certain extent, bemused its +audience. + +Johnson called upon “Variety” as his most important artistic principle, +and he developed his ideas on this subject in _A Vision of Heaven_ +(1738), a work which bears a striking resemblance to William Blake’s +_The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_.[9] Johnson argues that all surface +appearances are merely a form of “Hieroglyphic” concealing a true vision +of things (6). His narrator is capable of what Blake was to call “mental +flight,” and there is a particularly vivid passage in which the stars +are seen as throwing down “freezing Daggers” at the poor starving +children in the streets and another in which we encounter an aged woman +who wields a broom against spiders and against all the young women who +threaten to come near the narrator (26).[10] The mystic temperament is +often capable of making connections between the spiritual and the +excremental,[11] between the sublime and the bathos of “Thunder-bolts +from Anus.” Blake, we should recall, has poems depicting himself +defecating.[12] + + [Footnote 9: Without suggesting that Blake may have known of + Johnson’s work, I would nevertheless note the similarity of certain + sections. Like Blake, Johnson mingled comedy and satire in his + vision.] + + [Footnote 10: Compare Blake’s “The Mental Traveler,” _The Poetry and + Prose of William Blake_, ed. David Erdman and Harold Bloom (Garden + City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970), 476-77.] + + [Footnote 11: See Pops, 31.] + + [Footnote 12: Blake, _Poetry and Prose_, 491.] + +Whether Johnson actually collected _The Merry-Thought_ or not, the +reasons for the association of these volumes with his name should then +be clear enough. While Fielding might appropriate the title “Scriblerus +Secundus” by way of staking out a line of descent for his humor and +satire, Hurlothrumbo was so thoroughly connected with Johnson and his +play that I can see no reason why he should not be considered the likely +editor of such a varied and eccentric collection of verse and prose as +_The Merry-Thought_. That the “Variety” bears no resemblance to that of +serious art, however, should be as obvious as the difference between a +William Blake and a Samuel Johnson of Cheshire. As William Hogarth was +to remark, “variety uncomposed, and without design is confusion and +deformity.”[13] + + [Footnote 13: _The Analysis of Beauty_, ed. Joseph Burke (Oxford: + Clarendon Press, 1955), 35.] + +Of course, miscellanies by their very nature are likely to be organized +according to principles of variety. What makes _The Merry-Thought_ +different from those appealing to polite taste is the wide swings of +emotion that prompt the writers of these poems and catch the compiler’s +fancy. As we have seen, the verses themselves vary from the grossest +comments on shit to the most passionate expressions of love. That the +one is likely to appear on the walls of latrines and the other to be cut +in glass by a diamond is part of what Johnson would have called the +“Hieroglyphic” significance of this collection. In Johnson’s plays, +there is the odd mixture of vulgarity and sublimity, the comic and the +serious, the satirical and the nonsensical. If his dramas bear a +resemblance to Jarry’s _Ubu Roi_, so _The Merry-Thought_ resembles the +kind of anthology that Jarry might have put together to illustrate the +absurd anarchy of the human spirit. Johnson, on the other hand, regarded +this seeming anarchy of human thoughts and feelings optimistically as an +emblem of human spirituality. + +_University of California,_ + + _Los Angeles_ + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + +Part 2 (“The SECOND EDITION”) and Part 3 of _The Merry-Thought_ are +reproduced in photographic facsimile from the copies in the William +Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *PR1195/H8H9/1731). They are +bound together with Part 1 (“the Third Edition; with very Large +Additions and Alterations”), which was published as ARS 216 in 1982. +A typical type page (pt. 2. p. 7) measures 154 x 87 mm. Part 4 is +reproduced from the copy in the Bodleian Library, Oxford (Shelf Mark: +Douce T. 168[5]). + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are inserted several curious Pieces from both + Universities. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART II. + + The SECOND EDITION. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ The Editor returns his hearty Thanks to those Gentlemen who have +favoured him with their Letters, and intreats that they will be so good +as to continue to communicate whatever they shall meet with of this Kind +to the Publisher. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART II. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +You will pardon the Editor that he does not put Things better in Order; +but he is so engaged in reading the Letters sent him in from the two +Universities, after the Publication of the First Part, that he believes +the Preface is in the Middle of the Book; but I dare swear you’ll find +it somewhere or other, and so read on. + + +_In _Trinity-College_ Bogs._ + + Ye _Cantabs_ mind when ye are sh - - t - - ng, + How nearly ’tis allied to Writing. + ----To Writing, say you? ----pray how so? + An uncouth Simile, I trow. + + ----Hold, pray ---- Condemn it not untry’d; + Hear only how it is apply’d. + + As learned _Johnian_ wracks his Brain---- + Thinks, ----hems, ----looks wise, ----then thinks again;---- + When all this Preparation’s done, + The mighty Product is ---- a Pun. + + So some with direful strange Grimaces, + Within this Dome distort their Faces; + Strain, ----squeeze, ----yet loth for to depart, + Again they strain--for what? a Fart. + + Hence _Cantabs_ take this moral Trite, + ’Gainst Nature, if ye think or sh - - te; + Use all the Labour, all the Art, + ’Twill ne’er exceed a Pun, or Fart. + + +_Red-Lion, Egham._ + + Coquets will always merry prove; } + But Prudes are those _give down their love_; } + And love and move, and move to love. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Prude for my Money, by G - - d. + + T. S. 1711. + + +_Written on the Looking-Glass of Mr. T - - p - - n, + Fellow-Commoner of Trinity-College, Cambridge._ + +_Imago in Speculo loquitur ad T - - p - - n._ + + I. + + Thou pretty little fluttering Thing, + That mak’st this gaudy Shew; + Thou senseless Mimick of a Man, + Thou Being, call’d a Beau. + + + II. + + Like me thou art an empty Form, + Like me alone, thou’rt made; + Like me delusive seem’st a Man, + But only art a Shade. + + +_Tuns in Cambridge, Window facing a certain Alderman’s in the Market._ + + Is _Molly Fr----_ immortal? ----No. + She is; and I will prove her so. + She’s fifteen now, and was, I know, + Fifteen, full fifteen Years ago. + + +_Underwritten._ + + The Fates from Heaven late came Post; + And thus address’d this _Cambridge_ Toast. + + Say happy Maid that can detain + Old hoary Time in fetter’d Chain, + What wouldst thou have to set him free, + And give thy captive Liberty? + + Miss _Molly_ call’d Mamma aside, + ---- Whisper’d awhile, then thus reply’d; + + Upon my Life, all I would have + From _Victor_ is to be a Slave; + I’ll soon untie this Captive’s Hands; + ---- Tie me but fast in _Hymen_’s Bands. + + +_On the Same on another Pane._ + + At Home Miss _Molly_’s scarce fifteen. + Mamma says she’s no more; + But if the Parish-Book says true, + Miss _Molly_’s thirty four. + Poor Miss _Molly_! + + +_Wrote on Cor---- Cr----d’s (a Printer and Bookseller in Cambridge) + Window in the Shop._ + + Ye longing Sophs, say it who can, + That _Corny_’s not a learned Man. + He knows well each Edition, Sir, + Of _Aldus_, and of _Elzevir_; + Of _Beza_ he profoundly reasons, + And talks jocose of _Harry Stephens_. + Though (says a Wag) all this I grant, + Yet _Corny_ sure must Learning want. + How so? ----It’s plain, (if that we may + B’lieve what Men of themselves do say,) + For _Corny_’s openly* confess’d. + He’s but a Blockhead at the best. + + * _Corny_, in Printing a _Latin_ Book, censur’d by the University, + was forced to plead _Ignoramus_ to save his Bacon. + + +_Another in the Shop, on C----’s Title Page_ + +LEARNING. + + Within this learn’d Receptacle of Arts, + _Corny_, if ask’d, on each can shew his Parts; + Alike a _Newton_, or a _Ratcliffe_ prove; + A _Coke_ in Law----an _Etheridge_ in Love.-- + Reason profound----in Hist’ry state each Fact, + Teach† _London_ how to think, or _Walpole_ how to act. + + O say from whence should all this Learning come.---- + From whence?----from each dead Sage around the Room. + + If _Corny_ thence his Fund of Learning draws, + How great his Skill in Politicks or Laws? ---- + How deeply read? ---- how vast his learned Store? ---- + ---- When ---- past the Title, all his Learning’s o’er. + + † Bishop. + + +_Another in the Same._ + + Is _Corny_’s Learning much; my Friends; + Since where it does begin, ---- it ends? + + +_From a Window in Ardenham-House, Hertfordshire._ + + As glass obdurate no Impression takes, + But what the radiant piercing Diamond makes; + Just so my Heart all other Pow’rs defies, + But those of fair _Venilla_’s brilliant Eyes. + + +_Written in a Lady’s Dressing Room._ + + _Brunetta_, I grant you, can give her Swain Death; + But ’tis not with her Eyes, but with her - - ill Breath. + + +_From a Window in the Inner Temple-Hall._ + + Come hither, Barristers of Dress, + That once your Lips may meet Success: + From _Rufus_’ filthy Hall withdraw; + Here only ye can live by Law. + + +_A Rebus on Lady of Quality, on a Glass at the Old Devil Tavern._ + + What fly from her Eyes, and the Place whither I + Must soon be convey’d to, unless she comply, + Is the Name of the Beauty for whom I could die. + + _N. B._ Darts and _Shafts_ fly from her Eyes, and if one dies, + one must be _bury_’d. + + +_Under the Rebus on Lady Sh - - - bury, at the Devil Tavern, is this;_ + + What opens a Door, and a Word of Offence, + Tell the Name of a Nymph of Wit, Beauty, and Sense. + + Supposed to be for Miss _Ke - ly_. + + +_From the Window of a Chamber in the Inner Temple._ + + For dear _Venilla_ in my Arms, + I’d scorn all other female Charms; + Ten thousand Beauties she can spare, + And still be _Fairest_ of the _Fair_. + + +_From innumerable Windows._ + + Like _Mars_ I’ll fight, like _Antony_ I’ll love, + I’ll drink like _Bacchus_, and I’ll whore like _Jove_. + + +_From the Apollo, the large Dancing-Room in the Devil Tavern, written + when some were engaged in a particular Country-Dance._ + + This Dance foretells that Couple’s Life, + Who mean to dance as Man and Wife; + As here, they’ll first with Vigour set, + Give Hands, and turn whene’er they meet; + But soon will quit their former Track, + Cast off and end in Back to Back. + + +_From the Angel Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + ’Tis hard! ’tis wonderous hard! + That the Life of a Man + Should be but a Span, + And that of a Woman a Yard! + + +_From a Watch-Maker’s Window, Fleet-Street._ + + Here Time is bought and sold: ’Tis plain, my Friend, + My Clocks and Watches shew what I intend; + For you I Time correct, + My Time I spend; + By Time I live, + But not one Inch will lend, + Except you pay the ready down or send: + I trust no Time, + Unless the Times do mend. + + +_On a Watch-Case in a Gentleman’s Pocket, given him by a Lady._ + + The Wretched pray to make more Haste, + The Happy say we fly too fast; + Therefore impossible to know, + Whether I go too fast or slow. + + S. M. + + +_At Hollyhead, I suppose, written by some Creation-Mender._ + + Arra, now what signifies the making the two great Lights? + The Sun to light the Day, and the Moons to light the Nights: + For the Sun in the Day-Time there is no Occasion, + Because I can see very well after my Persuasion: + But for the Moons, they are very good in a dark Night, + Because when we cannot see they give us a Light. + + +_Crown at Harlow._ + + Rail at your Father, rail at your Mother, + Rail at your Sister, rail at your Brother, + Rail on, my Boys, and rail at one another. + +_Underwritten._ + + Rail as you say, and you’ll be all railed in. + + +_Written upon the Wall of Clements-Inn, when the Dial was put up + which is supported by a black Slave in a kneeling Posture._ + + In vain poor sable Son of Woe, + Thou seek’st a tender Ear; + In vain thy Tears with Anguish flow, + For Mercy dwells not here: + From Cannibals thou fly’st in vain, + Lawyers less Quarter give; + The first won’t eat you till you’re slain, + The last will do’t alive. + + +_Hampstead on a Window._ + + I am a Dog ---- + In true Fidelity + I am a Sun ---- + In faithful Constancy: + I am a Stote, ---- + To please a lustful Lass; + I am a Hog, ---- + And you may kiss my A----se. + But if my _Celia_ comes within my Ken; + Then I shall be again like other Men. + + +_On another at the same Place._ + + My Wife says, Whither do you go? + And I return, my dear, I do not know; + Then d----n your Blood, says she, to use me thus; + And then I call her catterwauling Puss. + + +_Hampton-Court, at the Mitre._ + + A Ramp of very noted Name, + I need not say, for all Men know her Fame, + Lascivious, as the human Race could be, + She could not see a Man, but fell in Extasy. + + +_On a dyer’s Sign at Southwark._ + + I die to live, + I live to die, + And hope to live eternally. + + +_At the Star at Coventry._ + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e’er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I’ll storm, and I’ll swear, and I’ll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + + S. M. 1708. + + +_By Desire not to insert the Place._ + + What care I for Mistress May’ress; + She’s little as the Queen of Fairies: + Her little Body like my Thumb, + Is thicker far than _other some_; + Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide; } + Either on this, or t’other Side, } + That none could tell when they did ride. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + Swim for thy Life, dear Boy, for I can feel neither Bottom nor Sides. + + +_In Pencil upon a Wall in a Tavern near Covent-Garden._ + + I become all Things to all Men, to gain some, or I must have starved. + + _Moll. Friskey._ + + +_Star-Inn at Coventry._ + + _Molly_ the gay, the black, the friskey, + Would kiss like any wanton Gipsey; + Nor was her Mouth alone the Case, + A Man of Worth might kiss her A----se. + + +_At a Tavern at the Royal Exchange._ + + I’ve now a Coach and Six before me, + Each female court’sies to adore me: + But from my dearest I can’t part, + Without returning her my Heart: + Tell her I am gone a Month or longer, + While she may gain more Love, and I grow stronger. + + _S. M. Oct._ 17. 1720. + + +_From a Tavern in Fleet-Street._ + + I’ll drink like _Bacchus_, and I’ll fight like _Mars_, + The Kind I’ll love, the Cross may kiss my A - - se. + + +_In the same Room in a Woman’s Hand._ + + Since cruel Fate has robb’d me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I’ll ne’er love more, dispairing e’er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + +_Underwritten._ + + I kiss’d her the next Night, and she’s one of the _Walkers_ Family. + + _Feb._ 18. 1725. + + +_Dublin in a Window in Castle-Street._ + + O mortal Man that’s made of Clay, + Is here to-Morrow, and is gone to Day. + + +_In a Bog-House at Hampstead._ + + There’s Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + + +_Three-Pigeons at Brentford._ + + Wer’t not for _Whims_, Candles, and Carrots + Young Fellows Things might ride in Chariots. + + _Tom Long, July_ 17. + +_Underwritten._ + + Heaven for all those Helps to Nature, + Or else poor P---- could get no Quarter. + + +_Letter on a Window at Stony-Stratford, to Miss Mary V - - d - - le._ + + We shall B in better Q, + When U have I, and I have U. + + T. M. 1720 + + +_From a Window in Hell, near Westminster-Hall._ + + Old _Orpheus_ tickled his Harp so well, + That he tickled _Eurydice_ out of Hell, + With a Twing come Twang, and a Twing come Twang; but, + Some say _Euridice_ was a Scold + Therefore the Devil of her took hold, + With a Twing come Twang, &c. + + S. S. 1714. + + +_Underwritten._ + + If my Wife had been e’er in the Devil’s Hands, } + You know it would loose all other Bands, } + And I should been pleased with House and Lands. } + + F. R. 1718. + + +PREFACE. + +_From a Paper found in the Street at Twelve at Night, 1708. near + Covent-Garden. Argument concerning a Greek Opera that was to have + been set on Foot, when People liked to see and hear Operas first + in Italian._ + +As Languages are introduced among us Christian People daily that we +do not understand, by Way of _Italian_ Opera, _&c._ why may we not +entertain the Publick with a little _Greek_, as natural as Pigs +squeak.-- + + _And for _Latin_, ’tis no more dificile, + Than for a Blackbird ’tis to whistle._ Hud. + +I love dearly to quote my Authors. + +I have been with both the Play-Houses, and one says d----n it, it won’t +do; and t’other says, Z----ds it will not take; then says I to myself, +I’ll have a _Greek_ Opera, by G - - d; and with this Resolution I set +about it, and made a Specimen, and so went with it in a Chair to the +Opera-House, to give it the better Grace. But that would not do neither; +for one did not understand _Greek_; nor t’other did not understand +_Greek_; and _Italian_ was all in Vogue: And I did not understand that; +and so we could make no Bargain, and I returned Home. + +Z----ds, thinks I, if I don’t understand their barbarous Language, must +I let them have any Thing of my ancient Language? No, Messieurs! I’ll +let my Opera remain in its Infancy, and you shall curse yourselves +before you have it compleat; but that you shall know what Fools you have +been, I’ll stick a Needle through my Nose, that you may look sharp; and +then you will say, why did not US take it, for in the first Scene I saw +all the Audience laugh. But to the Point, _i.e._ the second Preamble or +Argument, + + +OPERA. + +Scene is the City of _Athens_, and an old Woman lives in a hollow Tree, +where she sells Gin and Gingerbread to the Grenadiers; her Name is +Gammer _Hocus_. Then there comes a Goddess, who sells Butter and Eggs at +_Athens_ Market, upon her Uncle’s bald Mare; and as the Mare is a +stumbling Jade, so she falls down before _Hocus_’s Tree, and hurts her +Rump, and then we begin. + +_N. B._ When the Goddess _Cinderaxan_ falls down before Gammer _Hocus_’s +Door, or Tree, she begins in _Ricitativo_----_Greek_ Fashion. + + _O! mega mar, hocus the baldmare has cantedme ontoss; + * Phillàdram sukami, some Spirit offerme to suckon. + Dear _Hokey_ behasty, forbum sufferssore by a Thumpon’t; + No baldmare my Gammon shall contuseagain by one moretoss._ + + * Fill. + +_English’d_ thus for the Benefit of the Ladies, though ’tis much the +same in the _Greek_. + + _O my Gammer _Hocus_, the bald Mare has canted me one Toss; + Fill a Dram, sick am I, some Spirit offer me to suck on. + Dear _Hokey_ be hasty, for Bum suffers sore by a Thump on’t. + No bald Mare my Gammon shall contuse again by one more Toss._ + +Then out comes Gammer _Hocus_, when the Goddess had called for a Dram in +the second Line, and sings with an Air, seeing her Goddessship as dirty +as the Devil. + + __Cinderaxan_’s sablehew’d Aspect,---- + Fulloffun, though the Doxey can seemcoy._ + +And here we leave off. Is not the Devil in the People, that they will +not encourage a good Thing, when they have it before them. + + +_Crown at Uxbridge,_ 1708. + +_An Acrostick upon something or other._ + + Commodious for a Haven made, + Under a rising Bank, + Nature has fix’d a Place of Trade, + To Men of any Rank. + +_Underwritten._ + + Riddle my ree, _&c._ + And read the four first Letters, and you’ll see. + + _R. M._ + +_A Man hanging for Love, drawn when Painting was in its Cradle, with his + Dog barking at him, _viva voce_. From the three Pigeons at Brentford._ + + [Illustration] + +The Occasion of this dangling Story, was from a Lady who hated him, and +set him about it. + + Go hang thyself, quoth cruel She, + Go hang thyself I say. + The Man obey’d her presently, + And made himself away. _Mary Worthless._ + +The Criticks do not make out whether he _walk’d_ off, or _went_ off, +neither does the Figure determine which. + + Hang me, if I will _hang_ for any Woman, + For most of them alike are very common; + I’d sooner trudge as I have done before, + Than hang upon a d----d confounded Whore. + +_Underwritten._ + + No Matter if the Man is longer than the Gallows, + He smokes and drinks his Glass like honest Fellows. + + +_Upon a Drinking-Glass at Charing-Cross._ + + _Nanny Sach----l_ is all my Toast; + She’s all I wish for, and is all my Boast. + + +_Egham, at the Red Lion._ + + Help me, ye Pow’rs, to sing my _Sylvia_’s Praise; + Nor _P - - pe_ nor _Sw - - ft_ can do it now a-days. + But you, nor I, or them, can ever boast, } + There ever was in _Europe_ such a Toast; } + All we can say, is, _Lucy_ rules the Roast. } + + +_At a Place not to be recorded._ + + A d - - - d confounded Bitch, + Ugly and cunning as a Witch. + Her Bill shall be preferr’d by Law; + The House we wish we’d never saw. + One Pound five and ten Pence; + Grant her Repentance; + We’ll never come here again; + And let her alone remain. + + J. S. + R. S. 17 July. + 1722. very truly. + + + I do not complain of my _Phillis_, + Because I know what her proud Will is; + For I know how she’ll rant, + And I know what I want; + G - - d d - - - n her old Aunt; + I stand here, and wait for her, THAT _still is_. + + +_On a beautiful Sempstress, in a Window at Charing-Cross._ + + _Dolly_, with Beauty and Art, + Has so hemm’d in my Heart, + That I cannot resist the Charm. + In Revenge I will stitch + Up the Hole near her Breach, + With a Needle as long as my Arm. + + R. + + +_Two Girls at a Bar, that would do’t, and one Gentleman would + chatter too long._ + + What the Devil should we meddle + With diddle daddle, fiddle faddle; + We shall lose the Girls that please; + Go to Bed, and take your Ease. + + M. C. to his Friend. + +_Underwritten._ + + I know they’ll ease you both, for I have been aboard of them. + + R. C. + + I shall tell best at the next Meeting: + The Proof of the Pudding is in the eating. + + +_Blue Posts, Charing-Cross._ + + Use me friendly, use me kind; + I’ll be the kindest of my Sex; + I’ll love, be constant, and you’ll find, + I’ll be your own in _Middlesex_. + + _Molly Sh----r._ + +_Underwritten._ + + Take care you keep her Country to yourself. + + M. L. + + +_Red Lion at Egham._ + + I _watch_ and _pray_ for dearest _Nancy_, + Because I always love her Fancy; + But then there comes, + Like Bailiff Bums, + The _Watch_ with Lights we _can see_; + And then she’ll pray, + And I must pay, + And retreat as clean as a Tansey. + +_Underwritten._ + + For Money one may whore, + And I’ll say no more.---- + + R. T. + + +_At the same Place._ + + I am a young Thing, just come from my Mammy. + + S. L. + +_Underwritten_ + + Then you want to be kiss’d, G - - d d - - - n ye. + + Captain R. T. + + +_Bull-and-Mouth-Street._ + + If Virtue rules the Minds of Women, + They’ll never let you touch their Linnen; + But if they are not Virtue Proof, + Then you may kiss them oft enough. + + +_Uxbridge, at the Crown._ + + _Molley_ came up to Town precise, + Demure, yet fire in her Eyes; + So did she look confounded civil; + With Grace and Beauty like a Devil; + But soon her Eyes drew in some Hearts, } + And some _Things else_ like _Cupid_’s Darts, } + Which gave her Pains, and many Smarts. } + +_Underwritten._ + + Thou Puppy, ---- + The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart, + And drew the Fire to her lower Part. + + _R. L._ + + +_From the same Place._ + + After a tedious Journey, and my Supper, + And dam----d uneasy with my Crupper, + _Jenney_ came up to warm my Bed, } + A pretty Girl; but I was dead, } + Or else I’d had her Maidenhead. } + + _R. T._ + + +_Swan at Uxbridge._ + + Who’s been here, + The Devil I fear; + For he’s left the Bottles clear. + + _R. Est----n_, 1710. + +_Underwritten._ + + ’Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle. + + _G. S._ 1711. + + +_Boghouse at Uxbridge._ + + If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink, + You may say, if you will, it is natural _Instinct_. + +_Underwritten._ + +You may quibble upon the Word _Instinct_, if you will; but I think ’tis +better out than in, considering the Case. + + _I. M._ of _Oxon._ + + +_Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in Drury-Lane, on a + Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal._ + + Grant us good lusty Men, ye gracious Pow’rs! + Or else stop up those craving Things of ours! + + +_From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near Cripplegate, written + upon a Wall._ + + Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal, + Will make a T d more lasting; + Therefore I think he is a Fool, + That goes out in a Morning fasting. + + _Tom. Rudge._ + +We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast. + + When I lay with my bouncing _Nell_, + I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell: + But I think in this Case it was damnable hard, + When I gave her an Inch, she’d want more than a Yard. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + +Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, _says one of the +Greek Philosophers_. + + +_Hoxton, on a Wall._ + + What Difference between Kings T - - - ds and mine? + One may be costive, one be full of Slime; + Yet equally will any Hog that feeds, + Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs. + +_Underwritten._ + + You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + + Tell me why, ye gen’rous Swains? + Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains? + Why does _Sylvia_ leave the Green? + Has she done any Thing obscene? + They all reply’d, Your _Sylvia_’s gone; + For she will do’t with ev’ry one. + + +_From the Red Lyon at Egham._ + + She that thinks upon her Honour, + Needs no other Guard upon her. + +_Underwritten._ + + She that has a Man upon her, + Never thinks upon her Honour. + + +_In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin._ + + You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use, + Pray lick ’em clean, and don’t this Wall abuse. + +_Under which is written;_ + + These House-of-Office Poets, by the L - - - d, + Instead of Laurel, should be crown’d with T - - - d. + + +_In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the Road to West + Chester._ + + Host! wou’d you paint your Crosses to the Life, + Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife. + + +_On A Window at Canbury-House._ + + The Breast of ev’ry _British_ Fair, + Like this bright, brittle, slippery Glass, + A Diamond makes Impression there, + Though on the Finger of an Ass. + + +_On a Person of Quality’s Boghouse._ + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + + +_On a Window at Bushy-Hall, Hertfordshire._ + + Love is like Blindman’s Buff, where we pursue, + We know not what we catch, we know not who; + And when we grasp our Wish, what Prize is won? + Our Eyes are open’d, and the Play is done. + + +_Some Love Verses being first written on a Window in Brook-Street, and + scratched out, occasioned the following:_ + + Good grave Papa, you hope in vain, + By blotting this to mend her; + She who writes Love upon the Pane, + Will soon leap out at Window. + + +_On the Middle Temple Boghouse._ + + Well sung of Yore, a Bard of Wit, + That some Folks read, but all Folks sh - - - t; + But now the Case is alter’d quite, + Since all who come to Boghouse write. + + +_On the same Place._ + + Because they cannot eat, some Authors write; + And some, it seems, because they cannot sh - - te. + + +_On a Glass at the Devil Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + The stubborn Glass no Character receives, + Except the Stamp the piercing Brilliant gives. + A female Heart thus no Impression takes, + But what the Lover tipp’d with Diamond makes. + + +_At Launder’s Coffee-House, in the Old Play-House Passage._ + + Dear _Pat_, ’tis vain to patch or paint, + Since still a fragrant Breath you want; + For though well furnish’d, yet all Folks + Despise a Room whose Chimney smokes. + + +_White-Hart at Watford._ + +Parody of four Lines of _Dryden_. + + Glass with a Diamond does our Wit betray; + Who can write sure on that smooth slippery Way? + Pleas’d with our scribling we cut swiftly on, + And see the Nonsense, which we cannot shun. + + +_In a Window at the Kings-Arms Tavern, Fleet-Street._ + + Both mine and Women’s Fate you’ll judge from hence ill, + That we are pierc’d by ev’ry Coxcomb’s Pencil. + + +_Written in a Window at a private House, by a desponding Lover in the + Presence of his Mistress._ + + This Glass, my Fair’s the Emblem of your Mind, + Which brittle, slipp’ry, pois’nous oft we find. + + +_Her Answer underneath._ + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can’t prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + + +_Sent by an unknown Hand._ + + O ye Powers above! + Who of Mortals take Care, + Make Women less cruel, + More fond, or less fair. + Was _Helen_ half so fair, so form’d for Joy, + Well fought the _Trojan_, and well burnt was _Troy_. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are intermixed the Lucubrations of the polite Part + of the World, written upon Walls in Bog-houses, _&c._ + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamey, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethlehem-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + +PART III. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +THE + +PREFACE. + + +This is purposely to acknowledge the Obligations I owe to several +Gentlemen, who have shewn their Esteem of the MERRY THOUGHT, in the +large Collections they have communicated before the Holidays: For who +knows, but many of their Pieces might have been lost, by the Effects of +Wine, Punch, and strong Beer, in the _Christmas_ Time; or by a Game at +Ramps, or Blind-Man’s-Buff; or unlucky Boys; or the sticking the Windows +with Holley and Ivy: All these Hazards did we run of having many curious +Pieces destroy’d, and bury’d in Oblivion. And then again, the Cleaning +the Windows against the Holidays might have endanger’d the Loss of many +of these brittle Leaves of Wit and Learning. But now, we may sing _Old +Rose_, since a large Cargoe is already arriv’d safe at the Press. In +order for a third Part, I have myself taken Care to visit most of the +Glasiers in Town where I just came Time enough to save some few Scraps +of Wit; and have bribed a great Number of Football-Players, not to use +that Diversion near some particular Places about this Great City, where +many curious Epigrams, Sonnets, and Whims, are at present uncopy’d; and +if they should escape a few Days longer, will make a fourth Volume, with +the kind Assistance of those Correspondents who have sent me promissory +Notes for the Delivery of certain Parcels of such Wit, on or about the +Twenty-fifth of this Instant _January_. I remain, Gentlemen, after +hoping you are in good Health, as I am at this present Writing, and +wishing you all many happy Years, + + _Your obliged humble Servant,_ + + HURLO THRUMBO. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART III. + +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, + a Place 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. + + _Oct._ 27, 1722. + +_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. + + _Dec._ 1722. + + +_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. + + I. S. 1718. + + +_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. + + T. B. + +_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. + + _Feb._ 13, 1720. + + +_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. + + L. 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. + + R. S. + + +_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. + + _Anne S----te._ + + +_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-Cl - ps, and After-Cl - ps, 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. + + _R. G----ll._ + + +_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._ + + R. F. + + +_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. } + + Captain R. T. 1718. + + +_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. + + R. T. 1718. + + +_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 in it._ + + +_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. + + _Le H----p._ + + +_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. + + _Probatum est_, W. T. + + +_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. + + 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. + + 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. + + _E. K._ + + +_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. + + Capt. _T. R._ 1730. + + +_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. } + + +_The galloping Song, from Newmarket, in the Compass of the Flute._ + +[Illustration: Music] + + Buxom _Joan_ got on a bald Mare; + she rid ramping on to The Fair, + with a Whip and Spur. + Such jogging, such flogging, + Such splashing, such dashing, + was ne’er seen there. + Jolly _Tom_, cry’d out as she Come, + thou Monkey Face, Punkey Face, + lousey Face, Frouzey Face, + hold thy Hand, Make a Stand, + thou’lt be down. + No Sooner _Tom._ spoke, but Down comes _Joan_, + with her Head and Bum up and down, + So that her A----se was shown. + Bald Mare ran galloping all the Way home. + + +_Temple, in a Gentleman’s Chambers._ + + When _Phillis_ wore her brightest Face, + All Men rejoic’d in every Grace: + Her Patch, her Mein, her Forward Chin, + Cry’d, Gentlemen, Pray who’ll come in: + But now her Wrinkles are come on her, } + All Men who ever were upon her, } + Cry out, a Fart upon her Honour. } + + _C. M._ + + +_On a Wall, at a School in Norwich. In Dog Latin._ + + _J. Jackson_ currit _plenum sed_ + Et læsit meum _magnum ad_. + + _R. L._ + +_The English Translation, Word for Word._ + + _J. Jackson_ run _full-butt_, + And hurt my _Great Toe_. + + +_Written on the Door of two celebrated Milliners._ + + Within this Place + Lives _Minerva_ and _Grace_, + An Angel hangs out at the Door; + If you rise in the Night, + And call for a Light, + Then presently down comes a Wh----. + + +_Angel, at Marlborough. Upon Miss M - - k._ + + Her Step delivers those her Eyes enslave, + She looks to conquer, but she treads to save. + + +_From a Window at Kidderminster, Worcestershire._ + +_A Scrap of a Lady’s Life._ + + When first she wakes, a Sigh or two she fetches, + Then rubs her Eyes,----and Arms and Legs she stretches! + Oh! for a Husband, out she gently cries, + If he were here,----he would not let me rise; + But I must up, for Fear my Love should stay, + And we should be too late at the new Play. + Here, _Jenny_, reach my Slippers, bring the Pot; + Then out she jumps, and down she gives a Squat, + I think I need not tell you what to do, + And then she lets a merry Crack or two. + + W. Overb - - ry. + + +_Bog-House at Ludlow._ + + Two pitiful Dukes at our Race did appear; + One bespoke him a Girl, the other new Geer, + And both went away without paying I hear, + For the Cheat lov’d his Money, and so did the Peer. + +_Underwritten._ + + You Rogue, Taylor shan’t catch me, while your Legs they are cross’d. + Don’t cry, my dear Girl, since you have got more than you lost. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART IV. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ There being a great Number of these Pieces of Wit and Humour at +most Places of publick Resort in this Kingdom, it is hoped that all, who +are pleased with, or willing to promote this Design, will be so good as +to collect and send them to the Publisher hereof. The Editor does not +care how merry they are, provided they are not obscene. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + + +PART IV. + +To the EDITOR of the Glass-Window, _&c._ Miscellany. + + +_Mr._ BOG, + +Where Wit and Learning (as at present in this our Isle) so much abound, +great Marvel it is to me, That so worthy a Compiler of other Men’s +Labours as yourself, should be put to the little mean Shifts of copying +from such _Cacascriptores_, who have from _Hudibras_, _Tom Brown_, and +others of the like Rank, their little Bits and Scraps, basely purloined, +whereby you run a Risque of being deem’d yourself a Plagiary: Nor is it +less unbecoming the Dignity and Fidelity of your Undertaking, to supply +the Want of Application and Diligence, by filling up your lifeless Pages +with Musical Punctations, as vile and unrelishing as ever echo’d from +your own natural Bagpipe. Therefore, that you may the better be enabled +these Indecencies equally to avoid, I send you the following +_Collectanea Nasutula_: If you honour them, I shall honour your next +Performance; if not, _Non cuicunque datum est habere nasum_. + + +_From a Boghouse near _Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields_._ + +_The_ WISH. + + Oh! may our Senate, learn’d and great, + (In order to perpetuate + The tuneful Strains and witty Flights, + Of him that Studies while he sh - - ts) + Decree all Landlords, thro’ the Nation, + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + In some meet Corner of their Dark Hole + A cuspidated Piece of Charcoal; + Or, where the Walls are cas’d with Wainscot, + A Piece of Chalk with equal Pains cut; + That those who labour at both Ends, + To ease themselves, and serve their Friends, + May not, reluctant, go from Sh - - t, + And leave no Relict of their Wit, + For want of necessary Tools + To impart the _Proles_ of their Stools: + Then _Cibber_’s Odes, and _Tindal_’s Sense, + _Caleb_ and _Henley_’s Eloquence, + _Woolston_, and all such learned Sophi’s, + Would be cut down in House-of-Office: + _Oxford_ and _Cambridge_ too would join + Their Puns, to make the Boghouse shine + Each learn’d Society would try all + (From lowest Club, to that call’d Royal,) + To furnish something might improve + Religion, Politicks, or Love: + Grand _Keyber_, Gormogons, Free Masons, + And _Heydeger_, with all his gay Sons, + Would find to suit, with Lectures there, + Their Intellectuals to a Hair: + _Bodens_ might pick up Wit from thence, and lay + The _Drama_ of another Modish Play. + So wise a Law would doubtless tend + To prove our Senate, Learning’s Friend; + Whilst Trade, and such like fond Chimeras, + Might wait more fit and leisure _Æra’s._ + + +_From a Window at the _Dolphin_ Inn in _Southampton_._ + + The Wedding-Night past, says Sir _John_ to his Mate, + Faith Madam I’m bit (tho’ I find it too late) + By your d - - - n’d little Mouth, or else I’m a Whore’s Son, + For the Cross underneath’s quite out of Proportion. + Good Sir _John_, says my Lady, then under the Rose, + I’m as bad bit as you, by your plaguy long Nose: + You have not by half so much as I wanted, + I’ve more than you want, yet y’are not contented. + + +_From the Playhouse Boghouse._ + + Good Folks, sh - - t and write, and mend honest Bog’s Trade, + For when you sh - - t Rhymes, you help him to Bread: + He’el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + And fatten on what you here leave behind. + + +_From A Boghouse at the _White Hart_, Petersfield._ + + Were this Place to be view’d by a Herald of Note, + He would find a new Charge for the next new-bought Coat, + Which _Guillim_ ne’er thought of, nor one of the Herd, + _Viz._ a Wall erect Argent, _Gutte de T----d._ + And as a Reward, for improving the Art, + He should bear on a Fess (if he paints it) a F - - - t. + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Pox on your writing, I thought you were sh - - - - g, + My great Gut has giv’n me such Twitches: + Had you scribled much more, I’m a Son of a Whore, + If I should not have don’t in my Breeches. + + +_From the _White Lyon_, _Bristol_._ + + I’m witty, I’ll Write, + I’m valiant, I’ll Fight, + And take all that’s said in my own Sense: + In Liquor I’m sunk, + And confoundedly drunk, + So there is the Source of this Nonsense. + + +_From the same Place._ + + A Wretch, whom Fortune has been pleas’d to rowl + From the Tip-top of her enchanted Bowl, + Sate musing on his Fate, but could not guess, + Nor give a Reason for her Fickleness: + Such Thoughts as these would ne’er his Brain perplex, + Did he but once reflect upon her Sex: + For how could he expect, or hope to see, + In Woman either Truth or Constancy. + + +_Written on the Wall of one of the Summer-Houses in _Gray’s-Inn_ Walks, + under a curious Piece of Drawing._ + + Come hither, Heralds, view this Coat, + ’Twill bear Examination, + ’Tis ancient, and derives its Note + From the first Pair’s Creation. + The Field is _Luna_, _Mars_ a Pale, + Within an Orle of _Saturn_; + Charg’d with two Pellets at the Tail: + Pray take it for a Pattern. + +_Under-written._ + + I don’t see your _Luna_, nor _Saturn_, nor _Mars_, + But I see her ---- plain, and I see his bare A - - se. + + +_From another Place in the same Walks._ + + Could fairest dear _Eliza_ know how much I love, + My Story might, at least, her gen’rous Pity move; + Her Pity’s all my Hope, nor durst I more implore, + With that I still might live, and still her Charms adore. + +_Under-written._ + + Poor Wretch, alas! I pity Thee with all my heart, + Since that, it seems, alone will cure thy Love-sick Smart: + For he that has not Courage further to implore, + May surely have our Pity, but deserves no more. + + +_From a _Bog-House_ at the _George-Inn_ in _Whitchurch_._ + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear’d with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee’r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_ ---- + + +_Upon a Pillar at the _Royal-Exchange_._ + + This City is a World that’s full of Streets, + And Death’s the Market-Place where Mankind meets; + If Life were Merchandize, that Men could buy, + The Rich would only live, the Poor must die. + + +_In the Window of a _Green-House_ near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sitting on yon Bank of Grass, + With a blooming buxom Lass; + Warm with Love, and with the Day, + We to cool us went to play. + Soon the _am’rous_ Fever fled, + But left a worse _Fire_ in its Stead. + Alas! that _Love_ should cause such Ills! + As doom to _Diet-Drink_ and _Pills_. + + +_An Encomium on a _Fart_._ + + I sing the Praises of a _Fart_. + That I may do’t by Rules of _Art_. + I will invoke no _Deity_, + But _Butter’d-Pease_ and _Furmity_; + And think their Help sufficient + To sit and furnish my Intent: + For sure I must not use _high Strains_, + For fear it bluster out in _Grains_. + When _Virgil_’s _Gnat_, and _Ovid_’s _Flea_, + And _Homer_’s _Frogs_ strive for the Day; + There is no Reason in my Mind, + That a brave _Fart_ should come _behind_: + Since that you may it _parallel_, + With any Thing that doth _excel_. + _Musick_ is but a _Fart_ that’s sent + From the _Guts_ of an _Instrument_: + The Scholar _farts_; but when he gains + Learning with _cracking_ of his Brains; + And having spent much Pain and Oil, + _Thomas_ and _Dun_ to reconcile, + For to learn the abstracting _Art_, + What does he get by’t? Not a _Fart_. + The Soldier makes his Foes to run + With but the _Farting_ of a Gun; + That’s if he make the _Bullet whistle_, + Else ’tis no better than a _Fizzle_: + And if withal the Winds do stir-up + Rain, ’tis but a _Fart_ in Syrrup. + They are but _Farts_, the _Words_ we say, + Words are but _Wind_, and so are they. + Applause is but a _Fart_, the crude + _Blast_ of the fickle Multitude. + The Boats that lie the _Thames_ about, + Be but _Farts_ several Docks let out. + Some of our _Projects_ were, I think, + But politick _Farts_, _Foh! how they stink_! + As soon as born, they by-and-by, + _Fart-like_, but only breathe, and die. + _Farts_ are as good as _Land_, for both + We hold _in Tail_, and _let_ them both: + Only the Difference here is, that + _Farts_ are _let_ at a lower _Rate_. + I’ll say no more, for this is right, + That for my _Guts_ I cannot write; + Though I should study all my Days, + Rhimes that are worth the Thing I praise: + What I have said, take in good Part, + If not, I do not care a _Fart_. + + +_Written in Chalk under the _George-Inn_ Sign at _Farnham_._ + + St. _George_ to save a _Maid_, a _Dragon_ slew, + A gallant Action, grant the Thing be true. + Yet some say there’s no _Dragons_.----Nay, tis said, + There’s no _St. George_----Pray Heav’n there be a _Maid_. + + +_In the Window of a fine _Assembly-Room_ on a vast Appearance at its + Opening._ + + The Novelty this Crowd invites, + ’Tis strange, and therefore it delights; + For Folks Things eagerly pursue, + Not that they’re good, but that they’re new. + Pleasure must vary, or must cease, + We tire of Bliss, grow sick of Ease. + And if the Year we’re doom’d to Play, + To Work would be a Holiday. + + +_Over the Gate of _Redgrave Hall_, on a Visit made by Queen _Elizabeth_ + to Sir _Nicholas Bacon_, then Lord Keeper._ + + When great ELIZA saw at _Redgrave-Hall_, + The Apartments _few_, and those indeed but _small_, + Thus to its _Lord_, bespoke the gracious QUEEN; + Methinks for _you_, this _Mansion_ is too _mean_. + _For me, my Liege_, quoth he, _of old ’twas meet, + But _you_ have made _me_ for my _House--too great. + + +_Written by Sir _Thomas Moor_._ + + At last I’ve found a _Haven_ where, + I’ll ride secure from _Hope_ or _Fear_. + Thy Game is, _Fortune_, o’er with me, } + And thou to others now may’st _flee_ } + To cheat them with _Inconstancy_. } + + +_The Nature of Women: From a _Summer-House_ near _Richmond_._ + + Fair and foolish, little and loud, + Long and lazy, black and proud; + Fat and merry, lean and sad, + Pale and peevish, red and bad. + + +_The Nature of Men from the same._ + + To a Red Man read thy Read; + To a Brown Man break thy Bread; + At a Pale Man draw thy Knife; + From a Black Man keep thy Wife. + + +_In a Chamber Window in _Queen’s College, Cambridge_._ + + Our _Bodies_ are like _Shoes_, which oft we _cast_, + _Physick_ the _Cobler_ is, and _Death_ the _Last_. + + +_On a Tomb._ + + Here, in their last Bed, + The loving _Alice_ rests with her Love _Ned_. + +_Underwritten by a _Cambridge_ Schollar._ + + _Viator siste! ecce miraculum! + Vir & Uxor, hic non litigant._ + +_Which in _English_ may stand thus._ + + Behold a Bed, where, without Strife, + There rests a Man, and eke his Wife. + + +_Tom of _Bedlam_’s Sentiments on Marriage._ + + One ask’d a Madman, if a Wife he had, + A Wife! quoth he.----No!----I’m not quite so mad. + + +_In the Vaults belonging to Trinity College, _Cambridge_, there is cut + the Form of a Tobacco-Box, with this Inscription:_ + + Pandora’s Treasure. + +_Underneath,_ + + Tobacco, that outlandish Weed, + It dries the Brain, and spoils the Seed; + It dulls the Spirit, it dims the Sight, + It robs a Woman of her Right. + + +_An Epitaph on a Wicked Man’s Tomb. Written by Doctor _Wild_ the famous + Non-Conformist Minister._ + + Beneath this Stone there lies a cursed Sinner, + Doom’d to be roasted for the Devil’s Dinner. + + +_In the Vaults at _Chelsea_, and in an hundred other Places._ + + When the Devil was sick, the Devil a Monk would be, + When the Devil was well, the Devil a Monk was he. + + +_Sir _Walter Raleigh_ on the Snuff of a Candle the Night before he + died._ + + Cowards fear to die, but Courage stout, + Rather than live in Snuff, will put it out. + + +_On Marriage: In a Window at _Tunbridge_._ + + If ’tis to marry when the Knot is ty’d, + Why then they marry, who at _Tyburn_ ride. + And if that Knot, ’till Death, is loos’d by none, + Why then to marry, and be hang’d’s all one. + + +_In a Window in a Public-House, near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + I’m finely brought to Bed; + My Lord has stole that troublesome Thing, + That Folks call a Maidenhead. + + _Jane Hughs_ eighteen Years of Age. + + +_A little below it, in the same Window._ + + Then sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + You’re finely brought to Bed; + For something you’ve got for that troublesome Thing, + A Cl--p for a Maidenhead. + + _By my Lord’s Gentleman._ + + +_Written in the first Leaf of _Arbor Vitæ_._ + + Two D - - - s, and a Doctor, ’tis said, wrote this Piece, + Who were modest as Whores, and witty as Geese. + They penn’d it, it seems, to shew their great Parts, + Their Skill in Burlesque, and their Knowledge in Arts + But what say the Town----that ’t has fully desected, + That Fools they are all----which had long been suspected. + + +_At the _Red Lyon_ at _Egham_, and in the Windows at many other Places._ + + _Cornutus_ call’d his Wife both Whore and Slut, + Quoth she, you’ll never leave your Brawling--but-- + But, what? quoth he: Quoth she, the Post or Door; + For you have Horns to But, if I’m a Whore. + + +_In a Window at the Pudding-House in the Road to _Islington_._ + + The End of all, and in the End + The Praise of all depends: + A Pudding merits double Praise, + Because it hath two Ends. + + +_Underneath it._ + + A Pudding hath two Ends; You lye, my Brother, + For it begins at one, and ends at t’other. + + +_On Marriage. By a Batchelor._ + + Wedding and Hanging, both the Fates dispatch. + Yet Hanging seems to me the better Match. + + +_In a Window at _Bath_._ + +_On a Gentleman’s saying he had calculated his Son’s Nativity, the Boy + being then about nine Days old._ + + _Lavinia_ brought to Bed, her Husband looks + To know the Bantling’s Fortune in his Books. + Wiser he’d been, had he look’d backward rather, + And seen for certain, who had been its Father. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Dung, when scatter’d o’er the Plain, + Causes noble Crops of Grain: + Dung in Gardens too we want, + To cherish ev’ry springing Plant. + Corn and Plants since Dung affords, + We eat as well as sh---- our T----ds. + + +_Written in the Window of a Lady’s Chamber, who on a slight + Indisposition sent for _S. J. S.__ + + The Doctor more than Illness we should fear; + Sickness precedes, and Death attends his Coach, + Agues to Fevers rise, if he appear, + And Fevers grow to Plagues at his Approach. + + +_On Miss _Green_._ + + What gives the pleasant Mead its Grace, + What spreads at Spring Earth’s smiling Face, + What jolly Hunters chuse to wear, + Gives Name to her whose Chains I bear. + + +_On Miss _Partridge_ of _Ely_._ + + That of the pretty feather’d Race, + Which most doth courtly Tables grace, + And o’er the Mountains bends it Flight, + Or lurks in Fields with Harvest bright; + For whose Destruction Men with Care, + The noblest Canine Breed prepare, + Bestows a Name on that fair Maid + Whose Eyes to Love my Heart betray’d. + + +_On Miss _Sk----_ at _Tunbridge_._ + + The _Irish_ have a certain Root, + Our Parsnip’s very like unto’t, + Which eats with Butter wond’rous well, + And like Potatoes makes a Meal. + Now from this Root there comes a Name, + Which own’d is by the beauteous Dame, + Who sways the Heart of _him_ who rules + A mighty Herd of Knaves and Fools. + + +_A _Rebus_ written in one of the Windows of a large House near _Epsom_._ + + The Court of Love’s assembled here, + ’Tis _Venus_ Queen of Beauty’s Sphere, + In all her Charms she stands confest, + And rules supreme the noblest Breast. + Ye Shepherds would ye learn the Name + Of her who spreads so vast a Flame, + Know that ’tis hid from the Prophane; + And that your strictest Search is _Vain_. + + +_In a Window of the Great Room at _Scarborough_._ + + What strange Vicissitudes we see + In Pleasure, as in Realms take Place + For nothing here can constant be, + Where springing Joys the old efface. + The Theatre, of Yore the Field + Of Conquests, gain’d by blooming Maids, + Now must to modern Operas yield, + As they, to courtly Masquerades. + Nor better fares those sweet Retreats + Which they in sultry Summer chose: + Since _Scarb’rough_, Paradise of Sweets! + On ruined _Bath_ and _Tunbridge_ rose. + + +_Traced with a Smoke of a Candle in _Newgate_._ + + _Dick_, on two Words, thought to maintain him ever: + The first was _Stand_, and next to _Stand, Deliver_. + But _Dick_’s in _Newgate_, and he fears shall never, + Be blest again with that sweet Word _Deliver_. + + +_In the Window of a Coffee-House at _Richmond_._ + + My _Chloe_ is an Angel bright, + But _Chloe_’s common----so is Light. + And who with _Phœbus_ Fault shall find, + Because his Beams to all are kind. + + +_On a Pannel at the Rose._ + + _Nanny Meadowes_ has undone me, + From myself her Charms have won me. + With Love’s blazing Flames I die, + Whither, whither shall I fly! + +_Underneath._ + + Prithee, Coxcomb, without Whining, + Say thou hast a mind to Sinning + With a Guinea, do but ask her, + Love you’ll find----is no hard Task, Sir. + + +_On a long-winded Preacher at _Coventry_: From a Window there._ + + Twelve Minutes, and one tedious Hour + _Mills_ kept me once in Pain, + But if I had it my Power, + He ne’er should preach again. + + +_A _Liliputian_ ODE. Composed at _Tunbridge_._ + + Charming _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + Learn to ease me, + No more teaze me. + Love’s but Reason + When in Season: + Nay, ’tis Duty, + Youth and Beauty + To improve + In happy Love. + Therefore, _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + And instead of being coy, + Give, O give your Lover Joy! + +_The _Fair Lady’s Answer_. In the same Measure._ + + Rhiming _Billy_, + Soft and silly, + Are the verses, + Muse rehearses, + When with straining + You’re obtaining + Her Assistance + ’Gainst Resistance, + Made by Mistress + To your Distress. + Therefore early + Quit them fairly, + If you’d be rid of Woe, + Prithee, Prithee, Coxcomb, do. + + +_The Clowns and the Conjurer. By a Lady._ + + A Clown, who had lost his Mare, + To his Neighbour, a Wit, did repair, + And begg’d him with him to go + To the famous Doctor _Foreknow_, + A Conjurer powerful and strong, + Who would tell who had done the Wrong. + So when to the Door they came, + The Wit, he besh - - t the same: + Then knocking -- the Doctor appears, + And in Midst of his Passion he swears, + If he knew but the nasty Dog + Who had sh - - t at his Gate like a Rogue, + He’d do to him Lord knows what. + Quoth the Wit -- why know you not that? + Then, Neighbour, e’en save your Pence, + For his Learning is all a Pretence: + If he knows not who sh - t----of course, + He nothing can know of your Horse. + And no Light can his Figures afford, + Whose Conjuring’s not worth a T---- + So as wise our two Clowns came Home, + As any who on such Errands roam. + + +_On a Pannel at the Faulcon in _St. Neot_’s _Huntingdonshire_._ + + My Maidenhead sold for a Guinea, + A lac’d Head with the Money I bought; + In which I look’d so bonny, + The Heart of a Gamester I caught: + A while he was fond, and brought Gold to my Box, + But at last he robb’d me, and left me the P---- + +_Underneath._ + + When you balance Accounts, it sure may be said, + You at a bad Market sold your Maidenhead. + + +_The _Inamorato_. In a Window at _Twickenham_._ + + When dull and melancholy, + I rove to charming _Dolly_, + Whose Sweetness doth so charm me, + And wanton Tricks so warm me, + That quite dissolv’d in Love, + No Trouble then I prove, + But am as truly blest + Upon her panting Breast, + As if to me she brought + All for which _Cæsar_ fought: + For I, like _Anthony_, + With Beauty would be free, + Altho’ again’t shou’d cost + The Price of Empire lost. + +_An _Answer_. In the next Pane._ + + You sure were full of Folly, + When in the Praise of _Dolly_, + You wrote your am’rous Ditty, + Which sure deserves her Pity, + Since plainly it doth prove, + Your Brain is crack’d with Love; + Who else would talk of giving + An Empire for a ---- + When Twenty will down } + Each for a Silver Crown, } + And thank you when they’ve done } + + +_In a Window. At _Lebeck’s-Head_._ + + If it be true each Promise is a Debt, + Then _Celia_ hardly will her Freedom get; + Yet she, to satisfy her Debts, desires + To yield her Body as the Law requires. + + +_In the _Summer-House_ on _Gray’s Inn Terras_._ + + Who speaks to please in ev’ry Way, + And not himself offend, + He may begin to work to Day, + But Heaven knows when he’ll end. + + +_In the same Place._ + + Dogs on their Masters fawn and leap, + And wag their Tails apace, + So tho’ a Flatterer wants a Tail, + His Tongue supplies its Place. + + +_In a Window of the _Rene-Deer-Inn_ at _Bishop’s-Strafford_._ + + He that loves a Glass without a G, + Leave out L, and that is he. + + +_Wrote with a Pencil on a Pannel in one of the Courts of Justice in + _Guild-Hall_._ + + To go to Law + I have no Maw, + Altho’ my Suit be sure, + For I may lack + Cloaths to my Back, + E’er I that Suit procure. + + +_At the Tuns in _Cambridge_. Written with a Pencil on the Wall._ + + Marriage in Days of old has liken’d been + Unto a publick Feast, or Revel Rout, + Where those who are without would fain get in, + And those who are within would fain get out. + + +_On two old Maids: Written with a Pencil in the _Pump Room_ at _Bath_._ + + Why are _Doll_’s Teeth so white, and _Susan_’s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + +_In a Window, at the _Rose-Tavern_ in _Catherine-Street_._ + +_On Mrs. _C---- P----__ + + So early _Con_ began the wanton Trade, + She scarce remembers when she was a Maid. + + +_In the Window of a Sharper’s Chambers in the _Temple_._ + + Oft with an Oath has _Cog_ the Gamester said, + That no Disease should make him keep his Bed, + Urg’d for a Reason, I have heard him tell it, + To keep my Word----in Troth I mean to sell it. + + +_In a Bog-House at _Putney_._ + + The Poor have _little_, Beggars _none_, + The Rich _too much_, _enough_, not one. + + +_Written at the Request of a Lady who on her Wedding Day entreated an + old Lover to write something upon her in the Window._ + + This glittering Diamond, and this worthless Glass, + _Celia_, display thy Virtue and thy Face; + Bright as the Brilliant while thy Beauty shows + Ev’n Glass itself’s less brittle than thy Vows. + + +_The _Italian_ Gout._ + + If a Man lets a Fart in fair _Italy_, + From Lovers he never is after free; + For why ---- amongst those Dons, ’tis said, + ’Tis a certain Sign of a Male Maidenhead. + + +_In a Window of a certain Lady of Pleasure’s Lodgings in _Bow-Street_._ + + When with _Phillis_ toying, + Eager for enjoying, + What Muse can say + How sweet our Play, + What Numbers tell + The Joys we feel? + Happy Lovers only know + Bliss unmix’d with any Woe. + + The Ambitious when rais’d to the Summit of Power, + In the Midst of their Joy fear that Fortune may lower; + The Miser, who Thousands has heap’d in his Chest, + In the Midst of Riches is never at rest. + And the Heroe, whose Bosom his Glory still warms, + In the Midst of his Conquests fears the Change of his Arms. + But the Lover, whose Fondness his Hours doth employ, + In the Midst of her Charms knows no End of his Joy. + + Then quit Hopes of rising, + And Riches despising, + Leave the Camp and the Court + For Love’s pleasing Sport; + By Experience you’ll know, } + Love’s Pleasure’s still flow, } + Un-embitter’d with Care, and untinctur’d with Woe. } + + +_In a Window at _Parson’s-Green_._ + +_The Lover’s Retreat._ + + From meaner Pleasure I retire, + Yet real Happiness pursue; + Friendship and Love my Breast inspire, + And I have met them both in you, + + Whatever in my Wish had Place, + In thee, my lovely Fair, I find; + All that’s beauteous in thy Face, + And all that’s virtuous in thy Mind. + + +_Written by Mr. ---- in _Chloe_’s Bed-Chamber._ + + Wou’d you know the true Road that to Pleasure doth lead, + Then this Way, ye Swains, your Footsteps must tread. + And then for the Piece which this Pleasure doth cost, + Why, ’tis only a Guinea, you can’t think it lost. + Since Supper and Lodging, and Mistress and all, + Nay, and Maid, if you like her, are ready at Call. + + +_The _Thief_ and the _Doctor_._ + + A Thief a Parson stopp’d on the Highway, + And having bid him stand, next bid him pay. + The Parson drew his sword, for well he durst, + And quickly put his Foe unto the Worst. + Sir, (quoth the Thief) I by your Habit see, + You are a Churchman, and Debate should flee, + You know ’tis written in the sacred Word, + _Jesus_ to _Peter_ said, _Put up thy Sword_: + True, (quoth the Parson) but withal then hear, + St. _Peter_ first had cut off _Malchus_’s Ear. + + +__Pasquin_ against _P. S. Quintus_, when he forbid the Bawdy-Houses at + _Rome_, in Queen _Elizabeth_’s Time._ + + _Lex prohibet Pueros, prohibet Lupanaria Sixtus;_ + _Ergo quid agendum? Sit tibi amica manus._ + + +_The Cure of Love._ + + Love is, as some Physicians say, + A Fever bred by too high Feeding: + To cure it then the speediest Way, + Would be by Purging, and by Bleeding. + + +_Written in the Window of the Bar of the _White-Swan-Tavern_ of the City + of _Norwich_._ + +Mcccmixixx. + + ---- ---- ---- _firmissima vina,_ + ---- ---- ---- _reponite mensis,_ + ---- ---- ---- _& pocula porgite dextris._ + + +_In the Bog-House of the same Tavern._ + + Six Pennyworth of Whiting, } + A Hole to let Light in, } + Will make it fit to sh - - te in. } + +_Underneath._ + + By what’s above, I welly ween, + The Fool wants Light to sh - t him clean. + + +_In a Bog-House in _St. Michael_’s Parish in _Norwich_._ + + _Tim Kirby_, _Peter Harrod_, and _Will Hall_, + Are three fit Pieces for a Bog-House Wall. + +_Underneath. By another._ + + But _Old Nick_ has got them all. + + +_Written in a Bog-House at _Ipswich_._ + + _Si desit stramen, cum digito terge Feramen._ + +_In _English_. By another._ + + If you cannot get some Grass, + With your Finger wipe your A - - se + +_And under that, by another._ + + Such wretched _Latin_, and such wretched Verse, + Are proper _Stremina_ to clean my A - - se. + + +_In a Window at _Mount Ephraim_, near _Tunbridge_:_ + +_A Dialogue between a Lover and a Poet._ + + _Lov._ What is bright _Celia_ like, Dear Poet, say? + _Poet._ Why _Celia_, Sir, is like a Summer’s Day. + _Lov._ Who to a Day could liken such a Woman? + _Poet._ Is she not very _fair_, and very _common_? + + +_Written with a Pencil in the Vault at _Chelsea College_._ + + Who scribbles on the Wall when he’s at sh - -, + May sure be said to have a Flux of Wit. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Like Claret-Drinkers Stools, a Blockhead’s Brain; + Hardly conceives what it brings forth with Pain. + Such is my Case----who, while I’m thus inditing, + Prove the Analogy ’twixt it and Sh------. + + +_Written on the Window of a Coffee-House._ + +_Underneath, Coffee, Tea,_ &c. + + The Mistress by her Window’s represented, + For why, ’tis brittle Ware, and painted. + + +_On a Butcher’s marrying a Tanner’s Daughter at _Reading_._ + + A fitter Match there never could have been, + Since here the _Flesh_ is wedded to the _Skin_. + + +_At _Tunbridge_._ + + _Chloe_ is fair as _Fields_ in Autumn seen, + Her Temper gentle as the purling _Stream_: + That’s true; but then with those the rest conspire, + Lighter she is than _Air_, and hot as _Fire_. + + +_In Mrs. _Cowser_’s Window; in _Russel-Street_, _Covent-Garden_._ + + + Love, ’tis said, his Arrows shooting, + Wounds is ever distributing; + But before I felt, I knew not, + That in Poison dipp’d they flew hot. + + To _Jenny_ I owe + That this Secret I know, + For her I felt Smart + At first in my Heart; + + Which quickly she cur’d: But alack and alas! + I now feel a Throbbing in a much lower Place. + To _Jenny_ I went; but, alas! it was in vain: + Though she gave me the Wound, she can’t cure me again. + + +_An Epitaph on an old Maid._ + + Beneath this Place there lies an ancient Maid, + Whose secret Parts no Man did e’er invade; + Scarce her own Finger she’d permit to touch + That Virgin Part, altho’ it itched much. + And in her last expiring dying Groans, + Desir’d no Tomb, if it was built with Stones. + + +_The Effects of Love._ + + Love is the sweetest softest Passion, + That can warm the human Soul; + ’Tis a gentle Inclination + Which doth ev’ry Care controul: + + Thro’ our Bosom Love diffusing, + Tender Thoughts is ever choosing; + Softest Words its Flame expressing, + Towards the Dame our Heart possessing. + + Love still gentle makes and easy, + Soft in ev’ry Thing we do; + Bent on all Things that may please ye, + Men are Angels when they Woo. + + +_This was wrote somewhere; and means something, if you can find it out._ + + A Beauty like her’s whose Charms I now sing, + Ne’er sparkled in vain in the Box or the Ring; + No Youth of Distinction who gaz’d on her Eyes, + E’er retir’d, but he left her his Heart as her Prize. + Vain are all their Endeavours, for still the coy Maid, + At the Mention of Marriage, look’d strangely afraid, + Nor e’er thought of yeilding----until not long since + Eluding dull Ties----she was join’d to a P---- + + +_FINIS._ + + + + +_Entertaining PAMPHLETS just Printed._ + + +1. THE MERRY-THOUGHT: Or, _The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_. +Containing such Pieces of Wit and Humour as have been writ with +Diamonds, _&c._ by Persons of the First Quality in _Great Britain_, on +Glass-Windows, Drinking-Glasses, Bog-Houses, _&c._ at the most publick +Places of Resort in this Kingdom. In four Parts. Price 6 _d._ each. + + +2. _Round about Our Coal-Fire:_ Or, _Christmas Entertainments_. Treating +of Mirth and Jollity, Eating, Drinking, Kissing, _&c._ Of Hobgoblins, +Raw-Heads and Bloody-Bones, _Tom-Pokers_, Bull-Beggars, Witches, +Wizards, Conjurers, and such like horrible Bodies. Adorn’d with many +diverting Cuts. Price 6 _d._ + + +3. A View of the BEAU MONDE: Or, _Memoirs of the Celebrated COQUETILLA_. +In which is interspersed the Amours of several Persons of Quality and +Distinction. To which is added, _The Masque of Life:_ A Ballad. Price +1 _s._ + + +4. _Love-Alamode:_ Or, _The Amours of_ FLORELLA _and_ PHILLIS. Being the +Memoirs of two Celebrated Ladies under those Names: In which the whole +Circle of Modern Gallantry is display’d. Price 1 _s._ + + +5. _The BEAU’s_ MISCELLANY. Being a Curious Collection of amorous Tales, +diverting Songs, and entertaining Poems: particularly, _The Curious +Maid_; _The Peeper_; _The Leaky Vessel_; _The Bauble_; _The Longitude_; +_The Parson and his Maid_; _The Hoop-Petticoat_; _The Tickler_; _The +Maiden’s and Batchelor’s Dreams_; _cum multis aliis_. + + _If these merry Tales don’t ev’ry Humour fit, + Let Fops, like me, ne’er nibble more at Wit._ + +In two Parts. The Second Edition. Price stich’d 2 _s._ neatly bound +2 _s._ 6 _d._ + + +6. A PROPOSAL humbly offered to the Parliament, for the more effectual +preventing the farther Growth of _Popery_. By Dean _Sw - - ft_. To which +is added, Two Poems, _Helter-Skelter_, on the Hue and Cry after the +Country Attornies, on their Riding the Circuit; and, The Place of the +_Damn’d_. The Second Edition. Price 6 _d._ + + +7. _The Behaviour of the Clergy, as well as their Traditions destructive +of Religion._ Or, A Succinct History of _Priestcraft_ throughout all +Ages. To which is added, Parson _Bow - - n_’s Confession: A Poem. The +Third Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +8. WAR WITH PRIESTCRAFT, Or, _The Freethinker’s Iliad_. A Burlesque +Poem. In Three Canto’s. With Notes explaining the Sentiments, _&c._ of +them and their Followers. Price 1 _s._ + + +9. The HONEY-SUCKLE: A Curious Collection of POEMS. Consisting chiefly +of Originals; and interspersed with Translations from the best _Greek_ +and _Latin_ Poets. To which is added, _The_ DUEL: A Poem. The Second +Edition. Price 1 _s._ + +10. _The whole Case and Proceedings in relation to BRIDGET READING, an +Heiress, and _Daniel Kimberley_ and others._ To which is added, The +Trial of the said _Kimberley_; with his last dying Words, and an +Original Letter sent by him to Mr. _READING_ a few Days before his +Execution. Price 1 _s._ + + +11. _A View of the TOWN_: Or, _Memoirs of LONDON_. In which the Humours, +Follies, Vices, _&c._ of that Great _Metropolis_, are merrily display’d. +Interspersed with several new and witty Songs. + + _My Book a _Salesman_’s Shop you’ll find,_ + Where civilly I’ll treat ye, + _To a _Fool_’s Coat of any Kind,_ + _You’r welcome if it fit ye._ + +The Second Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +12. _A Sketch of the Miseries of POVERTY._ Dedicated to the Honourable +Sir _Griffith Boynton_ Bart. + + _Happy the Man, who void of Care and Strife, + In silken or in leathern Purse retains + A splendid Shilling._ + + Phillips. + + Price 6 _d._ + + +13. _A T----d is as good for a Sow, as a Pancake:_ Or, _The Story of a +COCK and a BULL_. Calculated for the Improvement of the Modern Wits. +Written by _Myself_ Esq; Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + + _From Nothing comes Nothing, and there remains Nothing._ + + From a Copy-Book in the _Blue-Coat_ Hospital. + + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + +Errata: + + The List of Editors was despeckled in scanning. All periods + (full stops) were supplied by the transcriber. + + +Editor’s Introduction: + + By Swine who nee’r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (taken from primary text)_ + + +Primary Text: + +Title Page: + All title pages-- including Part 1, issued as a separate ARS + publication-- are essentially identical. + --The last part of the second paragraph (after “... Nation.”) varies. + --The name “Bethleham-Wall” is spelled “Bethlehem” in Part 3. + +Part 2: + Will make a T d more lasting; + _shown as printed_ + +Part 3: + Names the Nymph that I adore. + _text reads “Npmph”_ + _Save us from sudden Death_, was said, + _text reads “wa ssaid”_ + +Part 4: + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + (From lowest Club, to that call’d Royal,) + _close parenthesis missing from both lines_ + He’el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + _spelling unchanged_ + By Swine who nee’r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (quoted in editor’s introduction)_ + E’er I that Suit procure. + _text has comma at end_ + Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + _text reads “Picre”_ + + +Further Notes: + + Why are _Doll_’s Teeth so white, and _Susan_’s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + This verse is a translation of Martial V.43: + + _Thaïs habet nigros, niveos Laecania dentes + Quae ratio est? Emptos haec habet, illa suos._ + + _P. S. Quintus_ + + Pope Sixtus V (= Quintus). + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window +and Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + +***** This file should be named 20535-0.txt or 20535-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/3/20535/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/20535-0.zip b/20535-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c1d258 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-0.zip diff --git a/20535-8.txt b/20535-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..97edc7f --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4148 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and +Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany + Parts 2, 3 and 4 + +Author: Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +Commentator: Maximillian E. Novak + +Contributor: James Roberts + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + [Transcriber's Note: + + The texts cited use a variety of long and short dashes, generally with + no relationship to the number of letters omitted. For this e-text, + short dashes are shown as separated hyphens, while longer dashes are + shown as connected hyphens: + + D - - - n _Molley H----ns_ for her Pride. + + Groups of vertical braces } represent a single brace encompassing + three-- in one case, four-- rhymed lines.] + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + + The Augustan Reprint Society + + THE + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + Glass-Window and Bog-House + MISCELLANY. + + + Parts 2, 3, and 4 + (1731-?) + + + _Introduction by_ + MAXIMILLIAN E. NOVAK + + + Publication Number 221-222 + WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY + University of California, Los Angeles + 1983 + + + + +GENERAL EDITOR + + David Stuart Rodes, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + +EDITORS + + Charles L. Batten, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Thomas Wright, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +ADVISORY EDITORS + + Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_ + William E. Conway, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Phillip Harth, _University of Wisconsin, Madison_ + Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_ + Earl Miner, _Princeton University_ + James Sutherland, _University College, London_ + Norman J. W. Thrower, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + John M. Wallace, _University of Chicago_ + + +PUBLICATIONS MANAGER + + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +CORRESPONDING SECRETARY + + Beverly J. Onley, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +EDITORIAL ASSISTANT + + Frances Miriam Reed, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +In an address to the American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies at +the 1983 annual meeting, Roger Lonsdale suggested that our knowledge of +eighteenth-century poetry has depended heavily on what our anthologies +have decided to print. For the most part modern anthologies have, in +turn, drawn on collections put together at the end of the eighteenth +century and the beginning of the next, when the ideal for inclusion was +essentially that of "polite taste." The obscene, the feminine, and the +political were by general cultural agreement usually omitted. Lonsdale +is not the only scholar questioning the basis of the canon; indeed, +revisionism is fast becoming one of the more ingenious--and +useful--parlor games among academics. Modern readers are no longer so +squeamish about obscenity nor so uncomfortable with the purely personal +lyric as were the editors at the end of the eighteenth century. And we +are hardly likely to find poetry written by women objectionable on that +score alone. In short, the anthologies we depend upon are out of date. + + +Among the works that would never have been a source of poems for the +canon, and one mentioned by Lonsdale, was the collection of verse +published in four parts by J. Roberts beginning in 1731, _The +Merry-Thought: or, the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_, commonly +known simply as _The Bog-House Miscellany_. Its contemporary reputation +may be described as infamous. James Bramston, in his _The Man of Taste_ +(1733), mentioned it as an example in poetry of the very opposite of +"good Taste" (ARS 171 [1975], 7). Polite taste, of course, is meaningful +only if it can define itself by what it excludes, and nothing could be +in worse taste than a collection of pieces written on windows, carved in +tables, or inscribed on the walls of Britain's loos. + +Just as the compilers of a modern work, _The Good Loo Guide_, were +parodying a well-known guide book to British restaurants, so the unknown +authors of _The Merry-Thought_ had some notion, however discontinuous, +of parodying the nation's polite literature. Were not Pope and Swift +famous for their distinguished miscellanies? What could be more amusing +than a collection of poems that represented a different poetic +ideal--a collection of verse with none of the pretensions to artistic +merit claimed by the superstars of the poetic world--the spontaneous +productions of nonpoets in moments of idleness or desperation. +Apparently some of the inscribers in the bog-houses used excrement +as a medium for--as well as a subject of--their inscriptions. _The +Merry-Thought_, then, is not even the kind of art that Dryden attacked +in _MacFlecknoe_ and Pope in his _Dunciad_--the work of bad poets +masquerading as geniuses.[1] Rather, it is a primitive form of folk art +produced as a more or less spontaneous act of play or passion, and +achieving some small degree of respectability only when practiced by a +respected poet and collected with his more serious verse.[2] Like modern +"serial" graffiti, it could function as a form of communication since +the first inscriptions often provoked those who followed to make their +own contributions. + + [Footnote 1: On the other hand, the willingness of publishers to + bring out such material would have suited well enough with Pope's + picture of heir heroic games. See Alexander Pope, _The Dunciad_, ed. + James utherland, Twickenham Edition, 2d ed., rev. (London: Methuen, + 1953), 97-306, bk 2, lines 17-220.] + + [Footnote 2: See, for example, W. H. Auden's "Academic Graffiti," in + Collected Poems_, ed. Edward Mendelsohn (London: Faber and Faber, + 976), 510-18. Such a verse as the following is more clever than most + raffiti, but like ordinary graffiti it remains essentially + "unpoetic": Lord Byron / Once succumbed to a Siren. / His flesh was + weak, / Hers reek."] + +Indeed, one of the more interesting aspects of graffiti is that in an +impermanent form it testifies to the continuance over the centuries of +certain human concerns. Recent studies of graffiti have often focused on +particular modern conflicts between races or nations, on drug problems, +and on specific political commentary.[3] But such local matters aside, +the content of modern graffiti is surprisingly like that of earlier +periods: scatological observations, laments of lovers, accusations +against women for their sexual promiscuity, the repetition of "trite" +poems and sayings, and messages attributed to various men and women +suggesting their sexual availability and proficiency. And if the +political targets have changed over the years, many of the political +attitudes have remained consistent. Graffiti is an irreverent form, with +strong popular and anti-establishment elements. As actions common to all +classes, eating, drinking, defecation, and fornication find their lowly +record in graffiti-like form. + + [Footnote 3: See, for example, Elizabeth Wales and Barbara Brewer, + "Graffiti in the 1970's," _Journal of Social Psychology_ 99 (1976): + 115-23.] + +On the most basic level, a writer will observe that the excrement of +the rich differs in no way from that of the poor. Thus one poem, taken +supposedly from a "Person of Quality's Boghouse," has the following +sentiment: + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + (Pt. 2, p. 25) + +There is nothing very polite about such observations, and no pretension +to art. These verses belong strictly to folklore and the sociology of +literature, but they suggest some continuing rumbles of discontent +against the class system, the existence among the lower orders of some +of the egalitarian attitudes that survived the passing of the Lollards +and the Levellers. Who were the writers of these pieces? Were they +indeed laborers? Or were they from the lower part of what was called the +"middle orders"? Is there some evidence to be found in the very fact +that they could write? + +Graffiti may, indeed, tell us something about degrees of literacy. One +wit remarked that whatever the ability to read or write may have been at +the time, almost everyone seemed to have been literate when presented +with a bog-house wall: "Since all who come to Bog-house write" (pt. 2, +p. 26). The traditional connection between defecation and writing was +another comparison apparent to the commentators. One wrote: + + There's Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + (Pt. 2, p. 13) + +And the lack of some paper or material to clean the rear end provoked +the following sentiment in the form of a litany: + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear'd with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_---- + (Pt. 4, p. 7) + +Other types of graffiti, however, vary from the very earnest expression +of affection to the nonexcrementally satiric. One of the more unusual is +a poem in praise of a faithful and loving wife: + + 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. + (Pt. 3, p. 5) + +Underneath this poem, _The Merry-Thought_ records a favorable comment on +the sentiment. Even more earnest is the complaint of a woman about her +fate in love: + + Since cruel Fate has robb'd me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I'll ne'er love more, dispairing e'er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + (Pt. 2, p. 12) + +We will never know why she was unable to marry the man she truly loved; +but her bitterness may have been short-lived. Just after this +inscription comes a cynical comment identifying the lady as a member of +the Walker family. And the writer insists that like all women she was +inconstant, since he kissed her the next night. + +This cynical approach to love and women dominates _The Merry-Thought_. +Part three, for instance, contains a poem that reads like a parody of +Belinda awaking in the first canto of Pope's _Rape of the Lock_. The +author, identified as W. Overb - - ry, presents a realistic morning +scene without either the charms and beauties that surround Pope's +Belinda or the viciousness and focus of Swift's similar pictures (see +pt. 3, p. 26). + +Prevailingly, women are depicted as sexually insatiable, as in a piece +written by a man who takes a month's vacation from sex to recoup his +strength (pt. 2, p. 12). And the related image of the female with a +sexual organ capable of absorbing a man plays a variation on the vagina +dentata theme (e.g., pt. 2, pp. 19, 24). A drawing of a man hanging +himself for love raises a considerable debate on whether such a thing +can indeed occur (pt. 2, pp. 17-18). In a more realistic vein, though +equally cynical, is the poem on the woman who complained of her husband +making her pregnant so often: + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e'er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + S. M. 1708. + (Pt. 2, pp. 10-11) + +S. M. is clearly unsympathetic to the plight of married women in an age +with only the most primitive forms of birth control.[4] The picture of +her as a long-suffering person is undercut by the casual male assumption +that giving birth was not really dangerous and that women make too much +of the pain and difficulty. That women were often forced to go through +thirteen or fourteen deliveries when little thought had yet been given +to creating an antiseptic environment for childbirth is apparently of +little concern to S. M., who finds in the apparent willingness of the +woman to have sexual intercourse one more time sufficient reason for +contempt. + + [Footnote 4: For an account of the horrors associated with + childbirth, see Lawrence Stone, _The Family, Sex, and Marriage in + England, 1500-1800_ (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 79-80.] + +In addition to giving glimpses into social attitudes, _The +Merry-Thought_ has a variety of inscriptions that show the way these +writings functioned. Professor George Guffey, in his introduction to +the first part of this work (ARS 216 [1982], iii-iv), remarks upon the +proposal scene carried on in _Moll Flanders_ between Moll and the +admirer who will prove her third husband and her brother. Such scenes +involving witty proposals and responses cut into the windows of taverns +were real enough at the time. The exchange in part two of _The +Merry-Thought_ is not, however, half so satisfactory. The woman takes +umbrage at her admirer's suggestions that the glass on which he writes +is "the Emblem" of her mind in being "brittle, slipp'ry, [and] +pois'nous," and writes in retort: + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can't prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + (Pt. 2, p. 27) + +Though an easy cynicism about women's availability and about the +body's insistently animal functions predominates, there is enough +variety in _The Merry-Thought_ to provide something of a picture of +eighteenth-century society were any future anthropologist to come +upon this volume as the sole remnant of that period. He would see a +society engaged rather more in animal functions than in intellectual +pursuits--a society rather more concerned with drinking, love, and +defecation than the picture presented by the polite and intellectual +literature of the time allowed. But he would also find in the satirical +squibs on Corny, the Cambridge bookseller and printer, evidence of +learning and university life (pt. 2, pp. 4-6) as well as a criticism of +opera (pt. 2, pp. 14-16). He would see numerous young men longing for +their mistresses to soften their hearts toward them, and cynical older +men who had lost their illusions about love. But he could also come upon +a straight piece of philosophy taken from the still fashionable Flask +tavern in Hampstead (pt. 2, p. 24) or lowly bits of pious folk wisdom +(pt. 2, p. 10). More often, however, he would uncover a society in which +there was little of the generalized style that characterizes even the +most personal formal poetry of the period. Many of the writers identify +themselves and the names of the women they love or detest. In short, if +these volumes do little else, they do provide a vivid glimpse into the +personal life of the time, and to that extent an injection of some of +these inscriptions into the anthologies of the period might help in +providing a lively and piquant context for the serious artistic +production of writers like Gay and Swift. + + +The announced "publisher" of this olio was one Hurlothrumbo, a character +drawn from the theatrical piece of that name by Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire (1691-1773). Professor Guffey has proposed that James Roberts, +for whom the four parts were printed, "was almost certainly the +collector of the graffiti" and that the name of Hurlothrumbo was invoked +in order to attract some of the attention that Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire and his play were still receiving two years after the play's +first performance and publication.[5] But Roberts would appear an +unlikely candidate for the role of editor;[6] I would suggest, rather, +the possibility of a more direct and active connection with Samuel +Johnson of Cheshire: that he was himself likely the compiler of the +four parts of _The Merry-Thought_ and that, whatever the individual +versifiers may have intended, this infamous collection of graffiti--_as +collection_--shares very closely with Johnson's other work a spirit of +wild variety, eccentric juxtaposition, and essential anarchism that is +meant to lead, not to clever parody of polite literature, but to a new, +almost apocalyptic vision of the sublime. + + [Footnote 5: See ARS 216, x, n. 12. Professor Guffey offers + parallels between _The Merry-Thought_ and _Hurlothrumbo_ in + "Graffiti, Hurlo Thrumbo, and the Other Samuel Johnson," _Forum: + A Journal of the Humanities and Fine Arts_ 17 (1979): 35-47.] + + [Footnote 6: Michael Treadwell has demonstrated that the "trade + publishers" of the eighteenth century, such as James Roberts, acted + almost exclusively as binders and distributors of books and were + therefore different in kind from the printers and booksellers, who + were directly involved in the selection and production process. + Roberts and the other "trade publishers" dealt almost exclusively in + "works belonging to others," and Treadwell singles out Roberts as + the purest example. Despite putting his name to "literally thousands + of works," he never purchased any of the copyrights on works during + his long career. See "London Trade Publishers, 1675-1750," + _Library_, 6th ser., 4 (1982): 99-134.] + +At the first level, _Hurlothrumbo: Or, The Super-Natural_ (1729) itself +appears to be quite simply a parody, in this case of opera in the form +of a work mixing dialogue and song in a manner similar to but much +wilder than Gay's _Beggar's Opera_. Johnson's apparent takeoff on the +heroics of opera managed to include in its attack a commentary upon the +absurdity of contemporary tragedy as well as some specific references to +those works that aimed at the sublime. Lines like "This World is all a +Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav'd with Diamonds" (48) seem to call the +very nature of metaphor into question, especially when juxtaposed with +other delirious lines such as "Rapture is the Egg of Love, hatched +by a radiant Eye" (14) or by songs such as that sung by the king on +contemplating the effects of swallowing gunpowder and brandy together: + + Then Lightning from the Nostrils flies. + Swift Thunder-bolts from Anus, and the Mouth will break, + With Sounds to pierce the Skies, and make the Earth to quake. + (P. 42) + +_Hurlothrumbo_ may be mostly nonsense, but from the standpoint of +literary history, it is highly significant nonsense. It represented a +revolt against all dramatic conventions and shared a number of qualities +with graffiti, including the sense of spontaneity. + +Had Johnson's intention been something as relatively uncomplicated as +literary parody he would have achieved some minor fame in a century +which could boast any number of geniuses who had specialized in deriding +the pretentiousness of the more established literary forms, particularly +tragedy, the epic, and the pastoral. But Johnson of Cheshire lacked the +aesthetic distance required of sustained irony and had a grander purpose +in mind. His tradition was not that of the parodist but rather that of +the visionary--the mystic whose tendency is to merge the high and the +low, the sublime and the absurd, within a single work.[7] He was not +attacking the extravagant rants of the heroic play as Fielding was to do +in his _Tragedy of Tragedies_ (1731) or reflecting on opera and pastoral +as Gay had done in _The Beggar's Opera_ (1728); rather he was trying, +however unsuccessfully, to maintain his own work at the highest reaches +of sublimity. He was like one of Pope's "_Flying Fishes_," who "now and +then rise upon their fins and fly out of the Profound; but their wings +are soon dry, and they drop down to the bottom."[8] + + [Footnote 7: See Martin Pops, "The Metamorphosis of Shit," + _Salmagundi_ 56 (1982): 27-61.] + + [Footnote 8: Alexander Pope, _Peri Bathous_, in _Literary Criticism + of Alexander Pope_, ed. Bertrand A. Goldgar (Lincoln: University of + Nebraska Press, 1965), 54.] + +In his preface to _The Blazing Comet; or the Beauties of the Poets_ +(1732), Johnson of Cheshire noted that "the same thought that makes the +Fool laugh, may make the wise Man sigh" (ix). Given such an equivocal +approach to the ways in which the audience responded to his work, the +poet could easily shrug off audience laughter to his most "Sublime" +lines. He was always ready "to leap up in Extasy; and dip ... [his] Pen +in the Sun" (iv). Parts of _Hurlothrumbo_, particularly the scene +between Lady Flame and Wildfire (both of whom are described in the list +of characters as "mad") in which Wildfire threatens to cast off his +clothes and "run about stark naked" (48), bear an odd resemblance to +"The King's Cameleopard" in _Huckleberry Finn_. But the disconnected +verbal structure, along with the music and dancing, achieves a strange +mixture that must have amused and, to a certain extent, bemused its +audience. + +Johnson called upon "Variety" as his most important artistic principle, +and he developed his ideas on this subject in _A Vision of Heaven_ +(1738), a work which bears a striking resemblance to William Blake's +_The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_.[9] Johnson argues that all surface +appearances are merely a form of "Hieroglyphic" concealing a true vision +of things (6). His narrator is capable of what Blake was to call "mental +flight," and there is a particularly vivid passage in which the stars +are seen as throwing down "freezing Daggers" at the poor starving +children in the streets and another in which we encounter an aged woman +who wields a broom against spiders and against all the young women who +threaten to come near the narrator (26).[10] The mystic temperament is +often capable of making connections between the spiritual and the +excremental,[11] between the sublime and the bathos of "Thunder-bolts +from Anus." Blake, we should recall, has poems depicting himself +defecating.[12] + + [Footnote 9: Without suggesting that Blake may have known of + Johnson's work, I would nevertheless note the similarity of certain + sections. Like Blake, Johnson mingled comedy and satire in his + vision.] + + [Footnote 10: Compare Blake's "The Mental Traveler," _The Poetry and + Prose of William Blake_, ed. David Erdman and Harold Bloom (Garden + City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970), 476-77.] + + [Footnote 11: See Pops, 31.] + + [Footnote 12: Blake, _Poetry and Prose_, 491.] + +Whether Johnson actually collected _The Merry-Thought_ or not, the +reasons for the association of these volumes with his name should then +be clear enough. While Fielding might appropriate the title "Scriblerus +Secundus" by way of staking out a line of descent for his humor and +satire, Hurlothrumbo was so thoroughly connected with Johnson and his +play that I can see no reason why he should not be considered the likely +editor of such a varied and eccentric collection of verse and prose as +_The Merry-Thought_. That the "Variety" bears no resemblance to that of +serious art, however, should be as obvious as the difference between a +William Blake and a Samuel Johnson of Cheshire. As William Hogarth was +to remark, "variety uncomposed, and without design is confusion and +deformity."[13] + + [Footnote 13: _The Analysis of Beauty_, ed. Joseph Burke (Oxford: + Clarendon Press, 1955), 35.] + +Of course, miscellanies by their very nature are likely to be organized +according to principles of variety. What makes _The Merry-Thought_ +different from those appealing to polite taste is the wide swings of +emotion that prompt the writers of these poems and catch the compiler's +fancy. As we have seen, the verses themselves vary from the grossest +comments on shit to the most passionate expressions of love. That the +one is likely to appear on the walls of latrines and the other to be cut +in glass by a diamond is part of what Johnson would have called the +"Hieroglyphic" significance of this collection. In Johnson's plays, +there is the odd mixture of vulgarity and sublimity, the comic and the +serious, the satirical and the nonsensical. If his dramas bear a +resemblance to Jarry's _Ubu Roi_, so _The Merry-Thought_ resembles the +kind of anthology that Jarry might have put together to illustrate the +absurd anarchy of the human spirit. Johnson, on the other hand, regarded +this seeming anarchy of human thoughts and feelings optimistically as an +emblem of human spirituality. + +_University of California,_ + + _Los Angeles_ + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + +Part 2 ("The SECOND EDITION") and Part 3 of _The Merry-Thought_ are +reproduced in photographic facsimile from the copies in the William +Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *PR1195/H8H9/1731). They are +bound together with Part 1 ("the Third Edition; with very Large +Additions and Alterations"), which was published as ARS 216 in 1982. +A typical type page (pt. 2. p. 7) measures 154 x 87 mm. Part 4 is +reproduced from the copy in the Bodleian Library, Oxford (Shelf Mark: +Douce T. 168[5]). + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are inserted several curious Pieces from both + Universities. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART II. + + The SECOND EDITION. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ The Editor returns his hearty Thanks to those Gentlemen who have +favoured him with their Letters, and intreats that they will be so good +as to continue to communicate whatever they shall meet with of this Kind +to the Publisher. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART II. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +You will pardon the Editor that he does not put Things better in Order; +but he is so engaged in reading the Letters sent him in from the two +Universities, after the Publication of the First Part, that he believes +the Preface is in the Middle of the Book; but I dare swear you'll find +it somewhere or other, and so read on. + + +_In _Trinity-College_ Bogs._ + + Ye _Cantabs_ mind when ye are sh - - t - - ng, + How nearly 'tis allied to Writing. + ----To Writing, say you? ----pray how so? + An uncouth Simile, I trow. + + ----Hold, pray ---- Condemn it not untry'd; + Hear only how it is apply'd. + + As learned _Johnian_ wracks his Brain---- + Thinks, ----hems, ----looks wise, ----then thinks again;---- + When all this Preparation's done, + The mighty Product is ---- a Pun. + + So some with direful strange Grimaces, + Within this Dome distort their Faces; + Strain, ----squeeze, ----yet loth for to depart, + Again they strain--for what? a Fart. + + Hence _Cantabs_ take this moral Trite, + 'Gainst Nature, if ye think or sh - - te; + Use all the Labour, all the Art, + 'Twill ne'er exceed a Pun, or Fart. + + +_Red-Lion, Egham._ + + Coquets will always merry prove; } + But Prudes are those _give down their love_; } + And love and move, and move to love. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Prude for my Money, by G - - d. + + T. S. 1711. + + +_Written on the Looking-Glass of Mr. T - - p - - n, + Fellow-Commoner of Trinity-College, Cambridge._ + +_Imago in Speculo loquitur ad T - - p - - n._ + + I. + + Thou pretty little fluttering Thing, + That mak'st this gaudy Shew; + Thou senseless Mimick of a Man, + Thou Being, call'd a Beau. + + + II. + + Like me thou art an empty Form, + Like me alone, thou'rt made; + Like me delusive seem'st a Man, + But only art a Shade. + + +_Tuns in Cambridge, Window facing a certain Alderman's in the Market._ + + Is _Molly Fr----_ immortal? ----No. + She is; and I will prove her so. + She's fifteen now, and was, I know, + Fifteen, full fifteen Years ago. + + +_Underwritten._ + + The Fates from Heaven late came Post; + And thus address'd this _Cambridge_ Toast. + + Say happy Maid that can detain + Old hoary Time in fetter'd Chain, + What wouldst thou have to set him free, + And give thy captive Liberty? + + Miss _Molly_ call'd Mamma aside, + ---- Whisper'd awhile, then thus reply'd; + + Upon my Life, all I would have + From _Victor_ is to be a Slave; + I'll soon untie this Captive's Hands; + ---- Tie me but fast in _Hymen_'s Bands. + + +_On the Same on another Pane._ + + At Home Miss _Molly_'s scarce fifteen. + Mamma says she's no more; + But if the Parish-Book says true, + Miss _Molly_'s thirty four. + Poor Miss _Molly_! + + +_Wrote on Cor---- Cr----d's (a Printer and Bookseller in Cambridge) + Window in the Shop._ + + Ye longing Sophs, say it who can, + That _Corny_'s not a learned Man. + He knows well each Edition, Sir, + Of _Aldus_, and of _Elzevir_; + Of _Beza_ he profoundly reasons, + And talks jocose of _Harry Stephens_. + Though (says a Wag) all this I grant, + Yet _Corny_ sure must Learning want. + How so? ----It's plain, (if that we may + B'lieve what Men of themselves do say,) + For _Corny_'s openly* confess'd. + He's but a Blockhead at the best. + + * _Corny_, in Printing a _Latin_ Book, censur'd by the University, + was forced to plead _Ignoramus_ to save his Bacon. + + +_Another in the Shop, on C----'s Title Page_ + +LEARNING. + + Within this learn'd Receptacle of Arts, + _Corny_, if ask'd, on each can shew his Parts; + Alike a _Newton_, or a _Ratcliffe_ prove; + A _Coke_ in Law----an _Etheridge_ in Love.-- + Reason profound----in Hist'ry state each Fact, + Teach{~DAGGER~} _London_ how to think, or _Walpole_ how to act. + + O say from whence should all this Learning come.---- + From whence?----from each dead Sage around the Room. + + If _Corny_ thence his Fund of Learning draws, + How great his Skill in Politicks or Laws? ---- + How deeply read? ---- how vast his learned Store? ---- + ---- When ---- past the Title, all his Learning's o'er. + + {~DAGGER~} Bishop. + + +_Another in the Same._ + + Is _Corny_'s Learning much; my Friends; + Since where it does begin, ---- it ends? + + +_From a Window in Ardenham-House, Hertfordshire._ + + As glass obdurate no Impression takes, + But what the radiant piercing Diamond makes; + Just so my Heart all other Pow'rs defies, + But those of fair _Venilla_'s brilliant Eyes. + + +_Written in a Lady's Dressing Room._ + + _Brunetta_, I grant you, can give her Swain Death; + But 'tis not with her Eyes, but with her - - ill Breath. + + +_From a Window in the Inner Temple-Hall._ + + Come hither, Barristers of Dress, + That once your Lips may meet Success: + From _Rufus_' filthy Hall withdraw; + Here only ye can live by Law. + + +_A Rebus on Lady of Quality, on a Glass at the Old Devil Tavern._ + + What fly from her Eyes, and the Place whither I + Must soon be convey'd to, unless she comply, + Is the Name of the Beauty for whom I could die. + + _N. B._ Darts and _Shafts_ fly from her Eyes, and if one dies, + one must be _bury_'d. + + +_Under the Rebus on Lady Sh - - - bury, at the Devil Tavern, is this;_ + + What opens a Door, and a Word of Offence, + Tell the Name of a Nymph of Wit, Beauty, and Sense. + + Supposed to be for Miss _Ke - ly_. + + +_From the Window of a Chamber in the Inner Temple._ + + For dear _Venilla_ in my Arms, + I'd scorn all other female Charms; + Ten thousand Beauties she can spare, + And still be _Fairest_ of the _Fair_. + + +_From innumerable Windows._ + + Like _Mars_ I'll fight, like _Antony_ I'll love, + I'll drink like _Bacchus_, and I'll whore like _Jove_. + + +_From the Apollo, the large Dancing-Room in the Devil Tavern, written + when some were engaged in a particular Country-Dance._ + + This Dance foretells that Couple's Life, + Who mean to dance as Man and Wife; + As here, they'll first with Vigour set, + Give Hands, and turn whene'er they meet; + But soon will quit their former Track, + Cast off and end in Back to Back. + + +_From the Angel Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + 'Tis hard! 'tis wonderous hard! + That the Life of a Man + Should be but a Span, + And that of a Woman a Yard! + + +_From a Watch-Maker's Window, Fleet-Street._ + + Here Time is bought and sold: 'Tis plain, my Friend, + My Clocks and Watches shew what I intend; + For you I Time correct, + My Time I spend; + By Time I live, + But not one Inch will lend, + Except you pay the ready down or send: + I trust no Time, + Unless the Times do mend. + + +_On a Watch-Case in a Gentleman's Pocket, given him by a Lady._ + + The Wretched pray to make more Haste, + The Happy say we fly too fast; + Therefore impossible to know, + Whether I go too fast or slow. + + S. M. + + +_At Hollyhead, I suppose, written by some Creation-Mender._ + + Arra, now what signifies the making the two great Lights? + The Sun to light the Day, and the Moons to light the Nights: + For the Sun in the Day-Time there is no Occasion, + Because I can see very well after my Persuasion: + But for the Moons, they are very good in a dark Night, + Because when we cannot see they give us a Light. + + +_Crown at Harlow._ + + Rail at your Father, rail at your Mother, + Rail at your Sister, rail at your Brother, + Rail on, my Boys, and rail at one another. + +_Underwritten._ + + Rail as you say, and you'll be all railed in. + + +_Written upon the Wall of Clements-Inn, when the Dial was put up + which is supported by a black Slave in a kneeling Posture._ + + In vain poor sable Son of Woe, + Thou seek'st a tender Ear; + In vain thy Tears with Anguish flow, + For Mercy dwells not here: + From Cannibals thou fly'st in vain, + Lawyers less Quarter give; + The first won't eat you till you're slain, + The last will do't alive. + + +_Hampstead on a Window._ + + I am a Dog ---- + In true Fidelity + I am a Sun ---- + In faithful Constancy: + I am a Stote, ---- + To please a lustful Lass; + I am a Hog, ---- + And you may kiss my A----se. + But if my _Celia_ comes within my Ken; + Then I shall be again like other Men. + + +_On another at the same Place._ + + My Wife says, Whither do you go? + And I return, my dear, I do not know; + Then d----n your Blood, says she, to use me thus; + And then I call her catterwauling Puss. + + +_Hampton-Court, at the Mitre._ + + A Ramp of very noted Name, + I need not say, for all Men know her Fame, + Lascivious, as the human Race could be, + She could not see a Man, but fell in Extasy. + + +_On a dyer's Sign at Southwark._ + + I die to live, + I live to die, + And hope to live eternally. + + +_At the Star at Coventry._ + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e'er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + + S. M. 1708. + + +_By Desire not to insert the Place._ + + What care I for Mistress May'ress; + She's little as the Queen of Fairies: + Her little Body like my Thumb, + Is thicker far than _other some_; + Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide; } + Either on this, or t'other Side, } + That none could tell when they did ride. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + Swim for thy Life, dear Boy, for I can feel neither Bottom nor Sides. + + +_In Pencil upon a Wall in a Tavern near Covent-Garden._ + + I become all Things to all Men, to gain some, or I must have starved. + + _Moll. Friskey._ + + +_Star-Inn at Coventry._ + + _Molly_ the gay, the black, the friskey, + Would kiss like any wanton Gipsey; + Nor was her Mouth alone the Case, + A Man of Worth might kiss her A----se. + + +_At a Tavern at the Royal Exchange._ + + I've now a Coach and Six before me, + Each female court'sies to adore me: + But from my dearest I can't part, + Without returning her my Heart: + Tell her I am gone a Month or longer, + While she may gain more Love, and I grow stronger. + + _S. M. Oct._ 17. 1720. + + +_From a Tavern in Fleet-Street._ + + I'll drink like _Bacchus_, and I'll fight like _Mars_, + The Kind I'll love, the Cross may kiss my A - - se. + + +_In the same Room in a Woman's Hand._ + + Since cruel Fate has robb'd me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I'll ne'er love more, dispairing e'er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + +_Underwritten._ + + I kiss'd her the next Night, and she's one of the _Walkers_ Family. + + _Feb._ 18. 1725. + + +_Dublin in a Window in Castle-Street._ + + O mortal Man that's made of Clay, + Is here to-Morrow, and is gone to Day. + + +_In a Bog-House at Hampstead._ + + There's Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + + +_Three-Pigeons at Brentford._ + + Wer't not for _Whims_, Candles, and Carrots + Young Fellows Things might ride in Chariots. + + _Tom Long, July_ 17. + +_Underwritten._ + + Heaven for all those Helps to Nature, + Or else poor P---- could get no Quarter. + + +_Letter on a Window at Stony-Stratford, to Miss Mary V - - d - - le._ + + We shall B in better Q, + When U have I, and I have U. + + T. M. 1720 + + +_From a Window in Hell, near Westminster-Hall._ + + Old _Orpheus_ tickled his Harp so well, + That he tickled _Eurydice_ out of Hell, + With a Twing come Twang, and a Twing come Twang; but, + Some say _Euridice_ was a Scold + Therefore the Devil of her took hold, + With a Twing come Twang, &c. + + S. S. 1714. + + +_Underwritten._ + + If my Wife had been e'er in the Devil's Hands, } + You know it would loose all other Bands, } + And I should been pleased with House and Lands. } + + F. R. 1718. + + +PREFACE. + +_From a Paper found in the Street at Twelve at Night, 1708. near + Covent-Garden. Argument concerning a Greek Opera that was to have + been set on Foot, when People liked to see and hear Operas first + in Italian._ + +As Languages are introduced among us Christian People daily that we +do not understand, by Way of _Italian_ Opera, _&c._ why may we not +entertain the Publick with a little _Greek_, as natural as Pigs +squeak.-- + + _And for _Latin_, 'tis no more dificile, + Than for a Blackbird 'tis to whistle._ Hud. + +I love dearly to quote my Authors. + +I have been with both the Play-Houses, and one says d----n it, it won't +do; and t'other says, Z----ds it will not take; then says I to myself, +I'll have a _Greek_ Opera, by G - - d; and with this Resolution I set +about it, and made a Specimen, and so went with it in a Chair to the +Opera-House, to give it the better Grace. But that would not do neither; +for one did not understand _Greek_; nor t'other did not understand +_Greek_; and _Italian_ was all in Vogue: And I did not understand that; +and so we could make no Bargain, and I returned Home. + +Z----ds, thinks I, if I don't understand their barbarous Language, must +I let them have any Thing of my ancient Language? No, Messieurs! I'll +let my Opera remain in its Infancy, and you shall curse yourselves +before you have it compleat; but that you shall know what Fools you have +been, I'll stick a Needle through my Nose, that you may look sharp; and +then you will say, why did not US take it, for in the first Scene I saw +all the Audience laugh. But to the Point, _i.e._ the second Preamble or +Argument, + + +OPERA. + +Scene is the City of _Athens_, and an old Woman lives in a hollow Tree, +where she sells Gin and Gingerbread to the Grenadiers; her Name is +Gammer _Hocus_. Then there comes a Goddess, who sells Butter and Eggs at +_Athens_ Market, upon her Uncle's bald Mare; and as the Mare is a +stumbling Jade, so she falls down before _Hocus_'s Tree, and hurts her +Rump, and then we begin. + +_N. B._ When the Goddess _Cinderaxan_ falls down before Gammer _Hocus_'s +Door, or Tree, she begins in _Ricitativo_----_Greek_ Fashion. + + _O! mega mar, hocus the baldmare has cantedme ontoss; + * Philldram sukami, some Spirit offerme to suckon. + Dear _Hokey_ behasty, forbum sufferssore by a Thumpon't; + No baldmare my Gammon shall contuseagain by one moretoss._ + + * Fill. + +_English'd_ thus for the Benefit of the Ladies, though 'tis much the +same in the _Greek_. + + _O my Gammer _Hocus_, the bald Mare has canted me one Toss; + Fill a Dram, sick am I, some Spirit offer me to suck on. + Dear _Hokey_ be hasty, for Bum suffers sore by a Thump on't. + No bald Mare my Gammon shall contuse again by one more Toss._ + +Then out comes Gammer _Hocus_, when the Goddess had called for a Dram in +the second Line, and sings with an Air, seeing her Goddessship as dirty +as the Devil. + + __Cinderaxan_'s sablehew'd Aspect,---- + Fulloffun, though the Doxey can seemcoy._ + +And here we leave off. Is not the Devil in the People, that they will +not encourage a good Thing, when they have it before them. + + +_Crown at Uxbridge,_ 1708. + +_An Acrostick upon something or other._ + + Commodious for a Haven made, + Under a rising Bank, + Nature has fix'd a Place of Trade, + To Men of any Rank. + +_Underwritten._ + + Riddle my ree, _&c._ + And read the four first Letters, and you'll see. + + _R. M._ + +_A Man hanging for Love, drawn when Painting was in its Cradle, with his + Dog barking at him, _viva voce_. From the three Pigeons at Brentford._ + + [Illustration] + +The Occasion of this dangling Story, was from a Lady who hated him, and +set him about it. + + Go hang thyself, quoth cruel She, + Go hang thyself I say. + The Man obey'd her presently, + And made himself away. _Mary Worthless._ + +The Criticks do not make out whether he _walk'd_ off, or _went_ off, +neither does the Figure determine which. + + Hang me, if I will _hang_ for any Woman, + For most of them alike are very common; + I'd sooner trudge as I have done before, + Than hang upon a d----d confounded Whore. + +_Underwritten._ + + No Matter if the Man is longer than the Gallows, + He smokes and drinks his Glass like honest Fellows. + + +_Upon a Drinking-Glass at Charing-Cross._ + + _Nanny Sach----l_ is all my Toast; + She's all I wish for, and is all my Boast. + + +_Egham, at the Red Lion._ + + Help me, ye Pow'rs, to sing my _Sylvia_'s Praise; + Nor _P - - pe_ nor _Sw - - ft_ can do it now a-days. + But you, nor I, or them, can ever boast, } + There ever was in _Europe_ such a Toast; } + All we can say, is, _Lucy_ rules the Roast. } + + +_At a Place not to be recorded._ + + A d - - - d confounded Bitch, + Ugly and cunning as a Witch. + Her Bill shall be preferr'd by Law; + The House we wish we'd never saw. + One Pound five and ten Pence; + Grant her Repentance; + We'll never come here again; + And let her alone remain. + + J. S. + R. S. 17 July. + 1722. very truly. + + + I do not complain of my _Phillis_, + Because I know what her proud Will is; + For I know how she'll rant, + And I know what I want; + G - - d d - - - n her old Aunt; + I stand here, and wait for her, THAT _still is_. + + +_On a beautiful Sempstress, in a Window at Charing-Cross._ + + _Dolly_, with Beauty and Art, + Has so hemm'd in my Heart, + That I cannot resist the Charm. + In Revenge I will stitch + Up the Hole near her Breach, + With a Needle as long as my Arm. + + R. + + +_Two Girls at a Bar, that would do't, and one Gentleman would + chatter too long._ + + What the Devil should we meddle + With diddle daddle, fiddle faddle; + We shall lose the Girls that please; + Go to Bed, and take your Ease. + + M. C. to his Friend. + +_Underwritten._ + + I know they'll ease you both, for I have been aboard of them. + + R. C. + + I shall tell best at the next Meeting: + The Proof of the Pudding is in the eating. + + +_Blue Posts, Charing-Cross._ + + Use me friendly, use me kind; + I'll be the kindest of my Sex; + I'll love, be constant, and you'll find, + I'll be your own in _Middlesex_. + + _Molly Sh----r._ + +_Underwritten._ + + Take care you keep her Country to yourself. + + M. L. + + +_Red Lion at Egham._ + + I _watch_ and _pray_ for dearest _Nancy_, + Because I always love her Fancy; + But then there comes, + Like Bailiff Bums, + The _Watch_ with Lights we _can see_; + And then she'll pray, + And I must pay, + And retreat as clean as a Tansey. + +_Underwritten._ + + For Money one may whore, + And I'll say no more.---- + + R. T. + + +_At the same Place._ + + I am a young Thing, just come from my Mammy. + + S. L. + +_Underwritten_ + + Then you want to be kiss'd, G - - d d - - - n ye. + + Captain R. T. + + +_Bull-and-Mouth-Street._ + + If Virtue rules the Minds of Women, + They'll never let you touch their Linnen; + But if they are not Virtue Proof, + Then you may kiss them oft enough. + + +_Uxbridge, at the Crown._ + + _Molley_ came up to Town precise, + Demure, yet fire in her Eyes; + So did she look confounded civil; + With Grace and Beauty like a Devil; + But soon her Eyes drew in some Hearts, } + And some _Things else_ like _Cupid_'s Darts, } + Which gave her Pains, and many Smarts. } + +_Underwritten._ + + Thou Puppy, ---- + The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart, + And drew the Fire to her lower Part. + + _R. L._ + + +_From the same Place._ + + After a tedious Journey, and my Supper, + And dam----d uneasy with my Crupper, + _Jenney_ came up to warm my Bed, } + A pretty Girl; but I was dead, } + Or else I'd had her Maidenhead. } + + _R. T._ + + +_Swan at Uxbridge._ + + Who's been here, + The Devil I fear; + For he's left the Bottles clear. + + _R. Est----n_, 1710. + +_Underwritten._ + + 'Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle. + + _G. S._ 1711. + + +_Boghouse at Uxbridge._ + + If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink, + You may say, if you will, it is natural _Instinct_. + +_Underwritten._ + +You may quibble upon the Word _Instinct_, if you will; but I think 'tis +better out than in, considering the Case. + + _I. M._ of _Oxon._ + + +_Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in Drury-Lane, on a + Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal._ + + Grant us good lusty Men, ye gracious Pow'rs! + Or else stop up those craving Things of ours! + + +_From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near Cripplegate, written + upon a Wall._ + + Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal, + Will make a T d more lasting; + Therefore I think he is a Fool, + That goes out in a Morning fasting. + + _Tom. Rudge._ + +We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast. + + When I lay with my bouncing _Nell_, + I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell: + But I think in this Case it was damnable hard, + When I gave her an Inch, she'd want more than a Yard. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + +Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, _says one of the +Greek Philosophers_. + + +_Hoxton, on a Wall._ + + What Difference between Kings T - - - ds and mine? + One may be costive, one be full of Slime; + Yet equally will any Hog that feeds, + Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs. + +_Underwritten._ + + You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + + Tell me why, ye gen'rous Swains? + Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains? + Why does _Sylvia_ leave the Green? + Has she done any Thing obscene? + They all reply'd, Your _Sylvia_'s gone; + For she will do't with ev'ry one. + + +_From the Red Lyon at Egham._ + + She that thinks upon her Honour, + Needs no other Guard upon her. + +_Underwritten._ + + She that has a Man upon her, + Never thinks upon her Honour. + + +_In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin._ + + You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use, + Pray lick 'em clean, and don't this Wall abuse. + +_Under which is written;_ + + These House-of-Office Poets, by the L - - - d, + Instead of Laurel, should be crown'd with T - - - d. + + +_In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the Road to West + Chester._ + + Host! wou'd you paint your Crosses to the Life, + Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife. + + +_On A Window at Canbury-House._ + + The Breast of ev'ry _British_ Fair, + Like this bright, brittle, slippery Glass, + A Diamond makes Impression there, + Though on the Finger of an Ass. + + +_On a Person of Quality's Boghouse._ + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + + +_On a Window at Bushy-Hall, Hertfordshire._ + + Love is like Blindman's Buff, where we pursue, + We know not what we catch, we know not who; + And when we grasp our Wish, what Prize is won? + Our Eyes are open'd, and the Play is done. + + +_Some Love Verses being first written on a Window in Brook-Street, and + scratched out, occasioned the following:_ + + Good grave Papa, you hope in vain, + By blotting this to mend her; + She who writes Love upon the Pane, + Will soon leap out at Window. + + +_On the Middle Temple Boghouse._ + + Well sung of Yore, a Bard of Wit, + That some Folks read, but all Folks sh - - - t; + But now the Case is alter'd quite, + Since all who come to Boghouse write. + + +_On the same Place._ + + Because they cannot eat, some Authors write; + And some, it seems, because they cannot sh - - te. + + +_On a Glass at the Devil Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + The stubborn Glass no Character receives, + Except the Stamp the piercing Brilliant gives. + A female Heart thus no Impression takes, + But what the Lover tipp'd with Diamond makes. + + +_At Launder's Coffee-House, in the Old Play-House Passage._ + + Dear _Pat_, 'tis vain to patch or paint, + Since still a fragrant Breath you want; + For though well furnish'd, yet all Folks + Despise a Room whose Chimney smokes. + + +_White-Hart at Watford._ + +Parody of four Lines of _Dryden_. + + Glass with a Diamond does our Wit betray; + Who can write sure on that smooth slippery Way? + Pleas'd with our scribling we cut swiftly on, + And see the Nonsense, which we cannot shun. + + +_In a Window at the Kings-Arms Tavern, Fleet-Street._ + + Both mine and Women's Fate you'll judge from hence ill, + That we are pierc'd by ev'ry Coxcomb's Pencil. + + +_Written in a Window at a private House, by a desponding Lover in the + Presence of his Mistress._ + + This Glass, my Fair's the Emblem of your Mind, + Which brittle, slipp'ry, pois'nous oft we find. + + +_Her Answer underneath._ + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can't prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + + +_Sent by an unknown Hand._ + + O ye Powers above! + Who of Mortals take Care, + Make Women less cruel, + More fond, or less fair. + Was _Helen_ half so fair, so form'd for Joy, + Well fought the _Trojan_, and well burnt was _Troy_. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are intermixed the Lucubrations of the polite Part + of the World, written upon Walls in Bog-houses, _&c._ + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamey, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethlehem-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + +PART III. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +THE + +PREFACE. + + +This is purposely to acknowledge the Obligations I owe to several +Gentlemen, who have shewn their Esteem of the MERRY THOUGHT, in the +large Collections they have communicated before the Holidays: For who +knows, but many of their Pieces might have been lost, by the Effects of +Wine, Punch, and strong Beer, in the _Christmas_ Time; or by a Game at +Ramps, or Blind-Man's-Buff; or unlucky Boys; or the sticking the Windows +with Holley and Ivy: All these Hazards did we run of having many curious +Pieces destroy'd, and bury'd in Oblivion. And then again, the Cleaning +the Windows against the Holidays might have endanger'd the Loss of many +of these brittle Leaves of Wit and Learning. But now, we may sing _Old +Rose_, since a large Cargoe is already arriv'd safe at the Press. In +order for a third Part, I have myself taken Care to visit most of the +Glasiers in Town where I just came Time enough to save some few Scraps +of Wit; and have bribed a great Number of Football-Players, not to use +that Diversion near some particular Places about this Great City, where +many curious Epigrams, Sonnets, and Whims, are at present uncopy'd; and +if they should escape a few Days longer, will make a fourth Volume, with +the kind Assistance of those Correspondents who have sent me promissory +Notes for the Delivery of certain Parcels of such Wit, on or about the +Twenty-fifth of this Instant _January_. I remain, Gentlemen, after +hoping you are in good Health, as I am at this present Writing, and +wishing you all many happy Years, + + _Your obliged humble Servant,_ + + HURLO THRUMBO. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART III. + +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, + a Place 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. + + _Oct._ 27, 1722. + +_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. + + _Dec._ 1722. + + +_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. + + I. S. 1718. + + +_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. + + T. B. + +_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. + + _Feb._ 13, 1720. + + +_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. + + L. 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. + + R. S. + + +_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. + + _Anne S----te._ + + +_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-Cl - ps, and After-Cl - ps, 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. + + _R. G----ll._ + + +_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._ + + R. F. + + +_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. } + + Captain R. T. 1718. + + +_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. + + R. T. 1718. + + +_Rue D'Auphine, at Paris._ + + O Quelle Grand Traison! + Les Couillions que je porte + Lors que leur Matre 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 in it._ + + +_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. + + _Le H----p._ + + +_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. + + _Probatum est_, W. T. + + +_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. + + 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. + + 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. + + _E. K._ + + +_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. + + Capt. _T. R._ 1730. + + +_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. } + + +_The galloping Song, from Newmarket, in the Compass of the Flute._ + +[Illustration: Music] + + Buxom _Joan_ got on a bald Mare; + she rid ramping on to The Fair, + with a Whip and Spur. + Such jogging, such flogging, + Such splashing, such dashing, + was ne'er seen there. + Jolly _Tom_, cry'd out as she Come, + thou Monkey Face, Punkey Face, + lousey Face, Frouzey Face, + hold thy Hand, Make a Stand, + thou'lt be down. + No Sooner _Tom._ spoke, but Down comes _Joan_, + with her Head and Bum up and down, + So that her A----se was shown. + Bald Mare ran galloping all the Way home. + + +_Temple, in a Gentleman's Chambers._ + + When _Phillis_ wore her brightest Face, + All Men rejoic'd in every Grace: + Her Patch, her Mein, her Forward Chin, + Cry'd, Gentlemen, Pray who'll come in: + But now her Wrinkles are come on her, } + All Men who ever were upon her, } + Cry out, a Fart upon her Honour. } + + _C. M._ + + +_On a Wall, at a School in Norwich. In Dog Latin._ + + _J. Jackson_ currit _plenum sed_ + Et lsit meum _magnum ad_. + + _R. L._ + +_The English Translation, Word for Word._ + + _J. Jackson_ run _full-butt_, + And hurt my _Great Toe_. + + +_Written on the Door of two celebrated Milliners._ + + Within this Place + Lives _Minerva_ and _Grace_, + An Angel hangs out at the Door; + If you rise in the Night, + And call for a Light, + Then presently down comes a Wh----. + + +_Angel, at Marlborough. Upon Miss M - - k._ + + Her Step delivers those her Eyes enslave, + She looks to conquer, but she treads to save. + + +_From a Window at Kidderminster, Worcestershire._ + +_A Scrap of a Lady's Life._ + + When first she wakes, a Sigh or two she fetches, + Then rubs her Eyes,----and Arms and Legs she stretches! + Oh! for a Husband, out she gently cries, + If he were here,----he would not let me rise; + But I must up, for Fear my Love should stay, + And we should be too late at the new Play. + Here, _Jenny_, reach my Slippers, bring the Pot; + Then out she jumps, and down she gives a Squat, + I think I need not tell you what to do, + And then she lets a merry Crack or two. + + W. Overb - - ry. + + +_Bog-House at Ludlow._ + + Two pitiful Dukes at our Race did appear; + One bespoke him a Girl, the other new Geer, + And both went away without paying I hear, + For the Cheat lov'd his Money, and so did the Peer. + +_Underwritten._ + + You Rogue, Taylor shan't catch me, while your Legs they are cross'd. + Don't cry, my dear Girl, since you have got more than you lost. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART IV. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ There being a great Number of these Pieces of Wit and Humour at +most Places of publick Resort in this Kingdom, it is hoped that all, who +are pleased with, or willing to promote this Design, will be so good as +to collect and send them to the Publisher hereof. The Editor does not +care how merry they are, provided they are not obscene. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + + +PART IV. + +To the EDITOR of the Glass-Window, _&c._ Miscellany. + + +_Mr._ BOG, + +Where Wit and Learning (as at present in this our Isle) so much abound, +great Marvel it is to me, That so worthy a Compiler of other Men's +Labours as yourself, should be put to the little mean Shifts of copying +from such _Cacascriptores_, who have from _Hudibras_, _Tom Brown_, and +others of the like Rank, their little Bits and Scraps, basely purloined, +whereby you run a Risque of being deem'd yourself a Plagiary: Nor is it +less unbecoming the Dignity and Fidelity of your Undertaking, to supply +the Want of Application and Diligence, by filling up your lifeless Pages +with Musical Punctations, as vile and unrelishing as ever echo'd from +your own natural Bagpipe. Therefore, that you may the better be enabled +these Indecencies equally to avoid, I send you the following +_Collectanea Nasutula_: If you honour them, I shall honour your next +Performance; if not, _Non cuicunque datum est habere nasum_. + + +_From a Boghouse near _Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_._ + +_The_ WISH. + + Oh! may our Senate, learn'd and great, + (In order to perpetuate + The tuneful Strains and witty Flights, + Of him that Studies while he sh - - ts) + Decree all Landlords, thro' the Nation, + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + In some meet Corner of their Dark Hole + A cuspidated Piece of Charcoal; + Or, where the Walls are cas'd with Wainscot, + A Piece of Chalk with equal Pains cut; + That those who labour at both Ends, + To ease themselves, and serve their Friends, + May not, reluctant, go from Sh - - t, + And leave no Relict of their Wit, + For want of necessary Tools + To impart the _Proles_ of their Stools: + Then _Cibber_'s Odes, and _Tindal_'s Sense, + _Caleb_ and _Henley_'s Eloquence, + _Woolston_, and all such learned Sophi's, + Would be cut down in House-of-Office: + _Oxford_ and _Cambridge_ too would join + Their Puns, to make the Boghouse shine + Each learn'd Society would try all + (From lowest Club, to that call'd Royal,) + To furnish something might improve + Religion, Politicks, or Love: + Grand _Keyber_, Gormogons, Free Masons, + And _Heydeger_, with all his gay Sons, + Would find to suit, with Lectures there, + Their Intellectuals to a Hair: + _Bodens_ might pick up Wit from thence, and lay + The _Drama_ of another Modish Play. + So wise a Law would doubtless tend + To prove our Senate, Learning's Friend; + Whilst Trade, and such like fond Chimeras, + Might wait more fit and leisure _ra's._ + + +_From a Window at the _Dolphin_ Inn in _Southampton_._ + + The Wedding-Night past, says Sir _John_ to his Mate, + Faith Madam I'm bit (tho' I find it too late) + By your d - - - n'd little Mouth, or else I'm a Whore's Son, + For the Cross underneath's quite out of Proportion. + Good Sir _John_, says my Lady, then under the Rose, + I'm as bad bit as you, by your plaguy long Nose: + You have not by half so much as I wanted, + I've more than you want, yet y'are not contented. + + +_From the Playhouse Boghouse._ + + Good Folks, sh - - t and write, and mend honest Bog's Trade, + For when you sh - - t Rhymes, you help him to Bread: + He'el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + And fatten on what you here leave behind. + + +_From A Boghouse at the _White Hart_, Petersfield._ + + Were this Place to be view'd by a Herald of Note, + He would find a new Charge for the next new-bought Coat, + Which _Guillim_ ne'er thought of, nor one of the Herd, + _Viz._ a Wall erect Argent, _Gutte de T----d._ + And as a Reward, for improving the Art, + He should bear on a Fess (if he paints it) a F - - - t. + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Pox on your writing, I thought you were sh - - - - g, + My great Gut has giv'n me such Twitches: + Had you scribled much more, I'm a Son of a Whore, + If I should not have don't in my Breeches. + + +_From the _White Lyon_, _Bristol_._ + + I'm witty, I'll Write, + I'm valiant, I'll Fight, + And take all that's said in my own Sense: + In Liquor I'm sunk, + And confoundedly drunk, + So there is the Source of this Nonsense. + + +_From the same Place._ + + A Wretch, whom Fortune has been pleas'd to rowl + From the Tip-top of her enchanted Bowl, + Sate musing on his Fate, but could not guess, + Nor give a Reason for her Fickleness: + Such Thoughts as these would ne'er his Brain perplex, + Did he but once reflect upon her Sex: + For how could he expect, or hope to see, + In Woman either Truth or Constancy. + + +_Written on the Wall of one of the Summer-Houses in _Gray's-Inn_ Walks, + under a curious Piece of Drawing._ + + Come hither, Heralds, view this Coat, + 'Twill bear Examination, + 'Tis ancient, and derives its Note + From the first Pair's Creation. + The Field is _Luna_, _Mars_ a Pale, + Within an Orle of _Saturn_; + Charg'd with two Pellets at the Tail: + Pray take it for a Pattern. + +_Under-written._ + + I don't see your _Luna_, nor _Saturn_, nor _Mars_, + But I see her ---- plain, and I see his bare A - - se. + + +_From another Place in the same Walks._ + + Could fairest dear _Eliza_ know how much I love, + My Story might, at least, her gen'rous Pity move; + Her Pity's all my Hope, nor durst I more implore, + With that I still might live, and still her Charms adore. + +_Under-written._ + + Poor Wretch, alas! I pity Thee with all my heart, + Since that, it seems, alone will cure thy Love-sick Smart: + For he that has not Courage further to implore, + May surely have our Pity, but deserves no more. + + +_From a _Bog-House_ at the _George-Inn_ in _Whitchurch_._ + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear'd with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_ ---- + + +_Upon a Pillar at the _Royal-Exchange_._ + + This City is a World that's full of Streets, + And Death's the Market-Place where Mankind meets; + If Life were Merchandize, that Men could buy, + The Rich would only live, the Poor must die. + + +_In the Window of a _Green-House_ near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sitting on yon Bank of Grass, + With a blooming buxom Lass; + Warm with Love, and with the Day, + We to cool us went to play. + Soon the _am'rous_ Fever fled, + But left a worse _Fire_ in its Stead. + Alas! that _Love_ should cause such Ills! + As doom to _Diet-Drink_ and _Pills_. + + +_An Encomium on a _Fart_._ + + I sing the Praises of a _Fart_. + That I may do't by Rules of _Art_. + I will invoke no _Deity_, + But _Butter'd-Pease_ and _Furmity_; + And think their Help sufficient + To sit and furnish my Intent: + For sure I must not use _high Strains_, + For fear it bluster out in _Grains_. + When _Virgil_'s _Gnat_, and _Ovid_'s _Flea_, + And _Homer_'s _Frogs_ strive for the Day; + There is no Reason in my Mind, + That a brave _Fart_ should come _behind_: + Since that you may it _parallel_, + With any Thing that doth _excel_. + _Musick_ is but a _Fart_ that's sent + From the _Guts_ of an _Instrument_: + The Scholar _farts_; but when he gains + Learning with _cracking_ of his Brains; + And having spent much Pain and Oil, + _Thomas_ and _Dun_ to reconcile, + For to learn the abstracting _Art_, + What does he get by't? Not a _Fart_. + The Soldier makes his Foes to run + With but the _Farting_ of a Gun; + That's if he make the _Bullet whistle_, + Else 'tis no better than a _Fizzle_: + And if withal the Winds do stir-up + Rain, 'tis but a _Fart_ in Syrrup. + They are but _Farts_, the _Words_ we say, + Words are but _Wind_, and so are they. + Applause is but a _Fart_, the crude + _Blast_ of the fickle Multitude. + The Boats that lie the _Thames_ about, + Be but _Farts_ several Docks let out. + Some of our _Projects_ were, I think, + But politick _Farts_, _Foh! how they stink_! + As soon as born, they by-and-by, + _Fart-like_, but only breathe, and die. + _Farts_ are as good as _Land_, for both + We hold _in Tail_, and _let_ them both: + Only the Difference here is, that + _Farts_ are _let_ at a lower _Rate_. + I'll say no more, for this is right, + That for my _Guts_ I cannot write; + Though I should study all my Days, + Rhimes that are worth the Thing I praise: + What I have said, take in good Part, + If not, I do not care a _Fart_. + + +_Written in Chalk under the _George-Inn_ Sign at _Farnham_._ + + St. _George_ to save a _Maid_, a _Dragon_ slew, + A gallant Action, grant the Thing be true. + Yet some say there's no _Dragons_.----Nay, tis said, + There's no _St. George_----Pray Heav'n there be a _Maid_. + + +_In the Window of a fine _Assembly-Room_ on a vast Appearance at its + Opening._ + + The Novelty this Crowd invites, + 'Tis strange, and therefore it delights; + For Folks Things eagerly pursue, + Not that they're good, but that they're new. + Pleasure must vary, or must cease, + We tire of Bliss, grow sick of Ease. + And if the Year we're doom'd to Play, + To Work would be a Holiday. + + +_Over the Gate of _Redgrave Hall_, on a Visit made by Queen _Elizabeth_ + to Sir _Nicholas Bacon_, then Lord Keeper._ + + When great ELIZA saw at _Redgrave-Hall_, + The Apartments _few_, and those indeed but _small_, + Thus to its _Lord_, bespoke the gracious QUEEN; + Methinks for _you_, this _Mansion_ is too _mean_. + _For me, my Liege_, quoth he, _of old 'twas meet, + But _you_ have made _me_ for my _House--too great. + + +_Written by Sir _Thomas Moor_._ + + At last I've found a _Haven_ where, + I'll ride secure from _Hope_ or _Fear_. + Thy Game is, _Fortune_, o'er with me, } + And thou to others now may'st _flee_ } + To cheat them with _Inconstancy_. } + + +_The Nature of Women: From a _Summer-House_ near _Richmond_._ + + Fair and foolish, little and loud, + Long and lazy, black and proud; + Fat and merry, lean and sad, + Pale and peevish, red and bad. + + +_The Nature of Men from the same._ + + To a Red Man read thy Read; + To a Brown Man break thy Bread; + At a Pale Man draw thy Knife; + From a Black Man keep thy Wife. + + +_In a Chamber Window in _Queen's College, Cambridge_._ + + Our _Bodies_ are like _Shoes_, which oft we _cast_, + _Physick_ the _Cobler_ is, and _Death_ the _Last_. + + +_On a Tomb._ + + Here, in their last Bed, + The loving _Alice_ rests with her Love _Ned_. + +_Underwritten by a _Cambridge_ Schollar._ + + _Viator siste! ecce miraculum! + Vir & Uxor, hic non litigant._ + +_Which in _English_ may stand thus._ + + Behold a Bed, where, without Strife, + There rests a Man, and eke his Wife. + + +_Tom of _Bedlam_'s Sentiments on Marriage._ + + One ask'd a Madman, if a Wife he had, + A Wife! quoth he.----No!----I'm not quite so mad. + + +_In the Vaults belonging to Trinity College, _Cambridge_, there is cut + the Form of a Tobacco-Box, with this Inscription:_ + + Pandora's Treasure. + +_Underneath,_ + + Tobacco, that outlandish Weed, + It dries the Brain, and spoils the Seed; + It dulls the Spirit, it dims the Sight, + It robs a Woman of her Right. + + +_An Epitaph on a Wicked Man's Tomb. Written by Doctor _Wild_ the famous + Non-Conformist Minister._ + + Beneath this Stone there lies a cursed Sinner, + Doom'd to be roasted for the Devil's Dinner. + + +_In the Vaults at _Chelsea_, and in an hundred other Places._ + + When the Devil was sick, the Devil a Monk would be, + When the Devil was well, the Devil a Monk was he. + + +_Sir _Walter Raleigh_ on the Snuff of a Candle the Night before he + died._ + + Cowards fear to die, but Courage stout, + Rather than live in Snuff, will put it out. + + +_On Marriage: In a Window at _Tunbridge_._ + + If 'tis to marry when the Knot is ty'd, + Why then they marry, who at _Tyburn_ ride. + And if that Knot, 'till Death, is loos'd by none, + Why then to marry, and be hang'd's all one. + + +_In a Window in a Public-House, near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + I'm finely brought to Bed; + My Lord has stole that troublesome Thing, + That Folks call a Maidenhead. + + _Jane Hughs_ eighteen Years of Age. + + +_A little below it, in the same Window._ + + Then sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + You're finely brought to Bed; + For something you've got for that troublesome Thing, + A Cl--p for a Maidenhead. + + _By my Lord's Gentleman._ + + +_Written in the first Leaf of _Arbor Vit_._ + + Two D - - - s, and a Doctor, 'tis said, wrote this Piece, + Who were modest as Whores, and witty as Geese. + They penn'd it, it seems, to shew their great Parts, + Their Skill in Burlesque, and their Knowledge in Arts + But what say the Town----that 't has fully desected, + That Fools they are all----which had long been suspected. + + +_At the _Red Lyon_ at _Egham_, and in the Windows at many other Places._ + + _Cornutus_ call'd his Wife both Whore and Slut, + Quoth she, you'll never leave your Brawling--but-- + But, what? quoth he: Quoth she, the Post or Door; + For you have Horns to But, if I'm a Whore. + + +_In a Window at the Pudding-House in the Road to _Islington_._ + + The End of all, and in the End + The Praise of all depends: + A Pudding merits double Praise, + Because it hath two Ends. + + +_Underneath it._ + + A Pudding hath two Ends; You lye, my Brother, + For it begins at one, and ends at t'other. + + +_On Marriage. By a Batchelor._ + + Wedding and Hanging, both the Fates dispatch. + Yet Hanging seems to me the better Match. + + +_In a Window at _Bath_._ + +_On a Gentleman's saying he had calculated his Son's Nativity, the Boy + being then about nine Days old._ + + _Lavinia_ brought to Bed, her Husband looks + To know the Bantling's Fortune in his Books. + Wiser he'd been, had he look'd backward rather, + And seen for certain, who had been its Father. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Dung, when scatter'd o'er the Plain, + Causes noble Crops of Grain: + Dung in Gardens too we want, + To cherish ev'ry springing Plant. + Corn and Plants since Dung affords, + We eat as well as sh---- our T----ds. + + +_Written in the Window of a Lady's Chamber, who on a slight + Indisposition sent for _S. J. S.__ + + The Doctor more than Illness we should fear; + Sickness precedes, and Death attends his Coach, + Agues to Fevers rise, if he appear, + And Fevers grow to Plagues at his Approach. + + +_On Miss _Green_._ + + What gives the pleasant Mead its Grace, + What spreads at Spring Earth's smiling Face, + What jolly Hunters chuse to wear, + Gives Name to her whose Chains I bear. + + +_On Miss _Partridge_ of _Ely_._ + + That of the pretty feather'd Race, + Which most doth courtly Tables grace, + And o'er the Mountains bends it Flight, + Or lurks in Fields with Harvest bright; + For whose Destruction Men with Care, + The noblest Canine Breed prepare, + Bestows a Name on that fair Maid + Whose Eyes to Love my Heart betray'd. + + +_On Miss _Sk----_ at _Tunbridge_._ + + The _Irish_ have a certain Root, + Our Parsnip's very like unto't, + Which eats with Butter wond'rous well, + And like Potatoes makes a Meal. + Now from this Root there comes a Name, + Which own'd is by the beauteous Dame, + Who sways the Heart of _him_ who rules + A mighty Herd of Knaves and Fools. + + +_A _Rebus_ written in one of the Windows of a large House near _Epsom_._ + + The Court of Love's assembled here, + 'Tis _Venus_ Queen of Beauty's Sphere, + In all her Charms she stands confest, + And rules supreme the noblest Breast. + Ye Shepherds would ye learn the Name + Of her who spreads so vast a Flame, + Know that 'tis hid from the Prophane; + And that your strictest Search is _Vain_. + + +_In a Window of the Great Room at _Scarborough_._ + + What strange Vicissitudes we see + In Pleasure, as in Realms take Place + For nothing here can constant be, + Where springing Joys the old efface. + The Theatre, of Yore the Field + Of Conquests, gain'd by blooming Maids, + Now must to modern Operas yield, + As they, to courtly Masquerades. + Nor better fares those sweet Retreats + Which they in sultry Summer chose: + Since _Scarb'rough_, Paradise of Sweets! + On ruined _Bath_ and _Tunbridge_ rose. + + +_Traced with a Smoke of a Candle in _Newgate_._ + + _Dick_, on two Words, thought to maintain him ever: + The first was _Stand_, and next to _Stand, Deliver_. + But _Dick_'s in _Newgate_, and he fears shall never, + Be blest again with that sweet Word _Deliver_. + + +_In the Window of a Coffee-House at _Richmond_._ + + My _Chloe_ is an Angel bright, + But _Chloe_'s common----so is Light. + And who with _Phoebus_ Fault shall find, + Because his Beams to all are kind. + + +_On a Pannel at the Rose._ + + _Nanny Meadowes_ has undone me, + From myself her Charms have won me. + With Love's blazing Flames I die, + Whither, whither shall I fly! + +_Underneath._ + + Prithee, Coxcomb, without Whining, + Say thou hast a mind to Sinning + With a Guinea, do but ask her, + Love you'll find----is no hard Task, Sir. + + +_On a long-winded Preacher at _Coventry_: From a Window there._ + + Twelve Minutes, and one tedious Hour + _Mills_ kept me once in Pain, + But if I had it my Power, + He ne'er should preach again. + + +_A _Liliputian_ ODE. Composed at _Tunbridge_._ + + Charming _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + Learn to ease me, + No more teaze me. + Love's but Reason + When in Season: + Nay, 'tis Duty, + Youth and Beauty + To improve + In happy Love. + Therefore, _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + And instead of being coy, + Give, O give your Lover Joy! + +_The _Fair Lady's Answer_. In the same Measure._ + + Rhiming _Billy_, + Soft and silly, + Are the verses, + Muse rehearses, + When with straining + You're obtaining + Her Assistance + 'Gainst Resistance, + Made by Mistress + To your Distress. + Therefore early + Quit them fairly, + If you'd be rid of Woe, + Prithee, Prithee, Coxcomb, do. + + +_The Clowns and the Conjurer. By a Lady._ + + A Clown, who had lost his Mare, + To his Neighbour, a Wit, did repair, + And begg'd him with him to go + To the famous Doctor _Foreknow_, + A Conjurer powerful and strong, + Who would tell who had done the Wrong. + So when to the Door they came, + The Wit, he besh - - t the same: + Then knocking -- the Doctor appears, + And in Midst of his Passion he swears, + If he knew but the nasty Dog + Who had sh - - t at his Gate like a Rogue, + He'd do to him Lord knows what. + Quoth the Wit -- why know you not that? + Then, Neighbour, e'en save your Pence, + For his Learning is all a Pretence: + If he knows not who sh - t----of course, + He nothing can know of your Horse. + And no Light can his Figures afford, + Whose Conjuring's not worth a T---- + So as wise our two Clowns came Home, + As any who on such Errands roam. + + +_On a Pannel at the Faulcon in _St. Neot_'s _Huntingdonshire_._ + + My Maidenhead sold for a Guinea, + A lac'd Head with the Money I bought; + In which I look'd so bonny, + The Heart of a Gamester I caught: + A while he was fond, and brought Gold to my Box, + But at last he robb'd me, and left me the P---- + +_Underneath._ + + When you balance Accounts, it sure may be said, + You at a bad Market sold your Maidenhead. + + +_The _Inamorato_. In a Window at _Twickenham_._ + + When dull and melancholy, + I rove to charming _Dolly_, + Whose Sweetness doth so charm me, + And wanton Tricks so warm me, + That quite dissolv'd in Love, + No Trouble then I prove, + But am as truly blest + Upon her panting Breast, + As if to me she brought + All for which _Csar_ fought: + For I, like _Anthony_, + With Beauty would be free, + Altho' again't shou'd cost + The Price of Empire lost. + +_An _Answer_. In the next Pane._ + + You sure were full of Folly, + When in the Praise of _Dolly_, + You wrote your am'rous Ditty, + Which sure deserves her Pity, + Since plainly it doth prove, + Your Brain is crack'd with Love; + Who else would talk of giving + An Empire for a ---- + When Twenty will down } + Each for a Silver Crown, } + And thank you when they've done } + + +_In a Window. At _Lebeck's-Head_._ + + If it be true each Promise is a Debt, + Then _Celia_ hardly will her Freedom get; + Yet she, to satisfy her Debts, desires + To yield her Body as the Law requires. + + +_In the _Summer-House_ on _Gray's Inn Terras_._ + + Who speaks to please in ev'ry Way, + And not himself offend, + He may begin to work to Day, + But Heaven knows when he'll end. + + +_In the same Place._ + + Dogs on their Masters fawn and leap, + And wag their Tails apace, + So tho' a Flatterer wants a Tail, + His Tongue supplies its Place. + + +_In a Window of the _Rene-Deer-Inn_ at _Bishop's-Strafford_._ + + He that loves a Glass without a G, + Leave out L, and that is he. + + +_Wrote with a Pencil on a Pannel in one of the Courts of Justice in + _Guild-Hall_._ + + To go to Law + I have no Maw, + Altho' my Suit be sure, + For I may lack + Cloaths to my Back, + E'er I that Suit procure. + + +_At the Tuns in _Cambridge_. Written with a Pencil on the Wall._ + + Marriage in Days of old has liken'd been + Unto a publick Feast, or Revel Rout, + Where those who are without would fain get in, + And those who are within would fain get out. + + +_On two old Maids: Written with a Pencil in the _Pump Room_ at _Bath_._ + + Why are _Doll_'s Teeth so white, and _Susan_'s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + +_In a Window, at the _Rose-Tavern_ in _Catherine-Street_._ + +_On Mrs. _C---- P----__ + + So early _Con_ began the wanton Trade, + She scarce remembers when she was a Maid. + + +_In the Window of a Sharper's Chambers in the _Temple_._ + + Oft with an Oath has _Cog_ the Gamester said, + That no Disease should make him keep his Bed, + Urg'd for a Reason, I have heard him tell it, + To keep my Word----in Troth I mean to sell it. + + +_In a Bog-House at _Putney_._ + + The Poor have _little_, Beggars _none_, + The Rich _too much_, _enough_, not one. + + +_Written at the Request of a Lady who on her Wedding Day entreated an + old Lover to write something upon her in the Window._ + + This glittering Diamond, and this worthless Glass, + _Celia_, display thy Virtue and thy Face; + Bright as the Brilliant while thy Beauty shows + Ev'n Glass itself's less brittle than thy Vows. + + +_The _Italian_ Gout._ + + If a Man lets a Fart in fair _Italy_, + From Lovers he never is after free; + For why ---- amongst those Dons, 'tis said, + 'Tis a certain Sign of a Male Maidenhead. + + +_In a Window of a certain Lady of Pleasure's Lodgings in _Bow-Street_._ + + When with _Phillis_ toying, + Eager for enjoying, + What Muse can say + How sweet our Play, + What Numbers tell + The Joys we feel? + Happy Lovers only know + Bliss unmix'd with any Woe. + + The Ambitious when rais'd to the Summit of Power, + In the Midst of their Joy fear that Fortune may lower; + The Miser, who Thousands has heap'd in his Chest, + In the Midst of Riches is never at rest. + And the Heroe, whose Bosom his Glory still warms, + In the Midst of his Conquests fears the Change of his Arms. + But the Lover, whose Fondness his Hours doth employ, + In the Midst of her Charms knows no End of his Joy. + + Then quit Hopes of rising, + And Riches despising, + Leave the Camp and the Court + For Love's pleasing Sport; + By Experience you'll know, } + Love's Pleasure's still flow, } + Un-embitter'd with Care, and untinctur'd with Woe. } + + +_In a Window at _Parson's-Green_._ + +_The Lover's Retreat._ + + From meaner Pleasure I retire, + Yet real Happiness pursue; + Friendship and Love my Breast inspire, + And I have met them both in you, + + Whatever in my Wish had Place, + In thee, my lovely Fair, I find; + All that's beauteous in thy Face, + And all that's virtuous in thy Mind. + + +_Written by Mr. ---- in _Chloe_'s Bed-Chamber._ + + Wou'd you know the true Road that to Pleasure doth lead, + Then this Way, ye Swains, your Footsteps must tread. + And then for the Piece which this Pleasure doth cost, + Why, 'tis only a Guinea, you can't think it lost. + Since Supper and Lodging, and Mistress and all, + Nay, and Maid, if you like her, are ready at Call. + + +_The _Thief_ and the _Doctor_._ + + A Thief a Parson stopp'd on the Highway, + And having bid him stand, next bid him pay. + The Parson drew his sword, for well he durst, + And quickly put his Foe unto the Worst. + Sir, (quoth the Thief) I by your Habit see, + You are a Churchman, and Debate should flee, + You know 'tis written in the sacred Word, + _Jesus_ to _Peter_ said, _Put up thy Sword_: + True, (quoth the Parson) but withal then hear, + St. _Peter_ first had cut off _Malchus_'s Ear. + + +__Pasquin_ against _P. S. Quintus_, when he forbid the Bawdy-Houses at + _Rome_, in Queen _Elizabeth_'s Time._ + + _Lex prohibet Pueros, prohibet Lupanaria Sixtus;_ + _Ergo quid agendum? Sit tibi amica manus._ + + +_The Cure of Love._ + + Love is, as some Physicians say, + A Fever bred by too high Feeding: + To cure it then the speediest Way, + Would be by Purging, and by Bleeding. + + +_Written in the Window of the Bar of the _White-Swan-Tavern_ of the City + of _Norwich_._ + +Mcccmixixx. + + ---- ---- ---- _firmissima vina,_ + ---- ---- ---- _reponite mensis,_ + ---- ---- ---- _& pocula porgite dextris._ + + +_In the Bog-House of the same Tavern._ + + Six Pennyworth of Whiting, } + A Hole to let Light in, } + Will make it fit to sh - - te in. } + +_Underneath._ + + By what's above, I welly ween, + The Fool wants Light to sh - t him clean. + + +_In a Bog-House in _St. Michael_'s Parish in _Norwich_._ + + _Tim Kirby_, _Peter Harrod_, and _Will Hall_, + Are three fit Pieces for a Bog-House Wall. + +_Underneath. By another._ + + But _Old Nick_ has got them all. + + +_Written in a Bog-House at _Ipswich_._ + + _Si desit stramen, cum digito terge Feramen._ + +_In _English_. By another._ + + If you cannot get some Grass, + With your Finger wipe your A - - se + +_And under that, by another._ + + Such wretched _Latin_, and such wretched Verse, + Are proper _Stremina_ to clean my A - - se. + + +_In a Window at _Mount Ephraim_, near _Tunbridge_:_ + +_A Dialogue between a Lover and a Poet._ + + _Lov._ What is bright _Celia_ like, Dear Poet, say? + _Poet._ Why _Celia_, Sir, is like a Summer's Day. + _Lov._ Who to a Day could liken such a Woman? + _Poet._ Is she not very _fair_, and very _common_? + + +_Written with a Pencil in the Vault at _Chelsea College_._ + + Who scribbles on the Wall when he's at sh - -, + May sure be said to have a Flux of Wit. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Like Claret-Drinkers Stools, a Blockhead's Brain; + Hardly conceives what it brings forth with Pain. + Such is my Case----who, while I'm thus inditing, + Prove the Analogy 'twixt it and Sh------. + + +_Written on the Window of a Coffee-House._ + +_Underneath, Coffee, Tea,_ &c. + + The Mistress by her Window's represented, + For why, 'tis brittle Ware, and painted. + + +_On a Butcher's marrying a Tanner's Daughter at _Reading_._ + + A fitter Match there never could have been, + Since here the _Flesh_ is wedded to the _Skin_. + + +_At _Tunbridge_._ + + _Chloe_ is fair as _Fields_ in Autumn seen, + Her Temper gentle as the purling _Stream_: + That's true; but then with those the rest conspire, + Lighter she is than _Air_, and hot as _Fire_. + + +_In Mrs. _Cowser_'s Window; in _Russel-Street_, _Covent-Garden_._ + + + Love, 'tis said, his Arrows shooting, + Wounds is ever distributing; + But before I felt, I knew not, + That in Poison dipp'd they flew hot. + + To _Jenny_ I owe + That this Secret I know, + For her I felt Smart + At first in my Heart; + + Which quickly she cur'd: But alack and alas! + I now feel a Throbbing in a much lower Place. + To _Jenny_ I went; but, alas! it was in vain: + Though she gave me the Wound, she can't cure me again. + + +_An Epitaph on an old Maid._ + + Beneath this Place there lies an ancient Maid, + Whose secret Parts no Man did e'er invade; + Scarce her own Finger she'd permit to touch + That Virgin Part, altho' it itched much. + And in her last expiring dying Groans, + Desir'd no Tomb, if it was built with Stones. + + +_The Effects of Love._ + + Love is the sweetest softest Passion, + That can warm the human Soul; + 'Tis a gentle Inclination + Which doth ev'ry Care controul: + + Thro' our Bosom Love diffusing, + Tender Thoughts is ever choosing; + Softest Words its Flame expressing, + Towards the Dame our Heart possessing. + + Love still gentle makes and easy, + Soft in ev'ry Thing we do; + Bent on all Things that may please ye, + Men are Angels when they Woo. + + +_This was wrote somewhere; and means something, if you can find it out._ + + A Beauty like her's whose Charms I now sing, + Ne'er sparkled in vain in the Box or the Ring; + No Youth of Distinction who gaz'd on her Eyes, + E'er retir'd, but he left her his Heart as her Prize. + Vain are all their Endeavours, for still the coy Maid, + At the Mention of Marriage, look'd strangely afraid, + Nor e'er thought of yeilding----until not long since + Eluding dull Ties----she was join'd to a P---- + + +_FINIS._ + + + + +_Entertaining PAMPHLETS just Printed._ + + +1. THE MERRY-THOUGHT: Or, _The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_. +Containing such Pieces of Wit and Humour as have been writ with +Diamonds, _&c._ by Persons of the First Quality in _Great Britain_, on +Glass-Windows, Drinking-Glasses, Bog-Houses, _&c._ at the most publick +Places of Resort in this Kingdom. In four Parts. Price 6 _d._ each. + + +2. _Round about Our Coal-Fire:_ Or, _Christmas Entertainments_. Treating +of Mirth and Jollity, Eating, Drinking, Kissing, _&c._ Of Hobgoblins, +Raw-Heads and Bloody-Bones, _Tom-Pokers_, Bull-Beggars, Witches, +Wizards, Conjurers, and such like horrible Bodies. Adorn'd with many +diverting Cuts. Price 6 _d._ + + +3. A View of the BEAU MONDE: Or, _Memoirs of the Celebrated COQUETILLA_. +In which is interspersed the Amours of several Persons of Quality and +Distinction. To which is added, _The Masque of Life:_ A Ballad. Price +1 _s._ + + +4. _Love-Alamode:_ Or, _The Amours of_ FLORELLA _and_ PHILLIS. Being the +Memoirs of two Celebrated Ladies under those Names: In which the whole +Circle of Modern Gallantry is display'd. Price 1 _s._ + + +5. _The BEAU's_ MISCELLANY. Being a Curious Collection of amorous Tales, +diverting Songs, and entertaining Poems: particularly, _The Curious +Maid_; _The Peeper_; _The Leaky Vessel_; _The Bauble_; _The Longitude_; +_The Parson and his Maid_; _The Hoop-Petticoat_; _The Tickler_; _The +Maiden's and Batchelor's Dreams_; _cum multis aliis_. + + _If these merry Tales don't ev'ry Humour fit, + Let Fops, like me, ne'er nibble more at Wit._ + +In two Parts. The Second Edition. Price stich'd 2 _s._ neatly bound +2 _s._ 6 _d._ + + +6. A PROPOSAL humbly offered to the Parliament, for the more effectual +preventing the farther Growth of _Popery_. By Dean _Sw - - ft_. To which +is added, Two Poems, _Helter-Skelter_, on the Hue and Cry after the +Country Attornies, on their Riding the Circuit; and, The Place of the +_Damn'd_. The Second Edition. Price 6 _d._ + + +7. _The Behaviour of the Clergy, as well as their Traditions destructive +of Religion._ Or, A Succinct History of _Priestcraft_ throughout all +Ages. To which is added, Parson _Bow - - n_'s Confession: A Poem. The +Third Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +8. WAR WITH PRIESTCRAFT, Or, _The Freethinker's Iliad_. A Burlesque +Poem. In Three Canto's. With Notes explaining the Sentiments, _&c._ of +them and their Followers. Price 1 _s._ + + +9. The HONEY-SUCKLE: A Curious Collection of POEMS. Consisting chiefly +of Originals; and interspersed with Translations from the best _Greek_ +and _Latin_ Poets. To which is added, _The_ DUEL: A Poem. The Second +Edition. Price 1 _s._ + +10. _The whole Case and Proceedings in relation to BRIDGET READING, an +Heiress, and _Daniel Kimberley_ and others._ To which is added, The +Trial of the said _Kimberley_; with his last dying Words, and an +Original Letter sent by him to Mr. _READING_ a few Days before his +Execution. Price 1 _s._ + + +11. _A View of the TOWN_: Or, _Memoirs of LONDON_. In which the Humours, +Follies, Vices, _&c._ of that Great _Metropolis_, are merrily display'd. +Interspersed with several new and witty Songs. + + _My Book a _Salesman_'s Shop you'll find,_ + Where civilly I'll treat ye, + _To a _Fool_'s Coat of any Kind,_ + _You'r welcome if it fit ye._ + +The Second Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +12. _A Sketch of the Miseries of POVERTY._ Dedicated to the Honourable +Sir _Griffith Boynton_ Bart. + + _Happy the Man, who void of Care and Strife, + In silken or in leathern Purse retains + A splendid Shilling._ + + Phillips. + + Price 6 _d._ + + +13. _A T----d is as good for a Sow, as a Pancake:_ Or, _The Story of a +COCK and a BULL_. Calculated for the Improvement of the Modern Wits. +Written by _Myself_ Esq; Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + + _From Nothing comes Nothing, and there remains Nothing._ + + From a Copy-Book in the _Blue-Coat_ Hospital. + + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + +Errata: + + The List of Editors was despeckled in scanning. All periods + (full stops) were supplied by the transcriber. + + +Editor's Introduction: + + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (taken from primary text)_ + + +Primary Text: + +Title Page: + All title pages-- including Part 1, issued as a separate ARS + publication-- are essentially identical. + --The last part of the second paragraph (after "... Nation.") varies. + --The name "Bethleham-Wall" is spelled "Bethlehem" in Part 3. + +Part 2: + Will make a T d more lasting; + _shown as printed_ + +Part 3: + Names the Nymph that I adore. + _text reads "Npmph"_ + _Save us from sudden Death_, was said, + _text reads "wa ssaid"_ + +Part 4: + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + (From lowest Club, to that call'd Royal,) + _close parenthesis missing from both lines_ + He'el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + _spelling unchanged_ + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (quoted in editor's introduction)_ + E'er I that Suit procure. + _text has comma at end_ + Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + _text reads "Picre"_ + + +Further Notes: + + Why are _Doll_'s Teeth so white, and _Susan_'s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + This verse is a translation of Martial V.43: + + _Thas habet nigros, niveos Laecania dentes + Quae ratio est? Emptos haec habet, illa suos._ + + _P. S. Quintus_ + + Pope Sixtus V (= Quintus). + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window +and Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + +***** This file should be named 20535-8.txt or 20535-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/3/20535/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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+text-indent: 0em;} +.pagenum.intro:before, .pagenum.intro:after {content: "-";} +.pagenum.part2:before {content: "2.";} +.pagenum.part3:before {content: "3.";} +.pagenum.part4:before {content: "4.";} + +.folionum {position: absolute; left: 3%; font-size: 92%; +font-style: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0em;} + +.mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; +margin: 1em 5%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 90%;} +div.mynote {margin-top: 0em;} +div.mynote a {text-decoration: none;} + + +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and +Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany + Parts 2, 3 and 4 + +Author: Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +Commentator: Maximillian E. Novak + +Contributor: James Roberts + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class = "mynote"> + +<p>The texts cited use a variety of long and short dashes, generally +with +no relationship to the number of letters omitted. For this e-text, +short dashes are separated, while longer dashes are connected:</p> + +<p class = "inset"> +D<span class = "hyphen">---</span>n <i>Molley H<span class = +"dash">——</span>ns</i> for her Pride.</p> + +</div> + +<div class = "title"> + +<h5 class = "smallcaps">The Augustan Reprint Society</h5> +<hr class = "tiny"> + +<h5>THE</h5> + +<h3>MERRY-THOUGHT:</h3> + +<h5>OR, THE</h5> + +<h4>Glass-Window and Bog-House</h4> + +<h4 class = "smallcaps">Miscellany</h4> + +<hr class = "tiny"> + +<h4>Parts 2, 3, and 4</h4> + +<h5>(1731-?)</h5> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><i>Introduction by</i></h5> + +<h5>MAXIMILLIAN E. NOVAK</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<h6>Publication Number 221-222<br> +WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY<br> +<span class = "smallcaps">University of California, Los +Angeles</span><br> +1983</h6> + +</div> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<div class = "mynote"> +<p><a href = "#intro">Editor's Introduction</a></p> + +<p><a href = "#partII">The Merry-Thought, Part II</a></p> + +<p class = "inset"><a href = "#drawing"><i>drawing</i></a>: +Man Hanging for Love</p> + +<p><a href = "#partIII">The Merry-Thought, Part III</a></p> + +<p class = "inset"><a href = "#song"><i>music</i></a>: +The Galloping Song</p> + +<p><a href = "#partIV">The Merry-Thought, Part IV</a></p> + +<p><a href = "#advert">Advertisement</a>: Entertaining Pamphlets</p> + +</div> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<div class = "editors"> + +<p class = "first">GENERAL EDITOR</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">David Stuart Rodes</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> + +<p class = "first">EDITORS</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Charles L. Batten</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">George Robert Guffey</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Maximillian E. Novak</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Nancy M. Shea</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Thomas Wright</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i><p> + +<p class = "first">ADVISORY EDITORS</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Ralph Cohen</span>, +<i>University of Virginia</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">William E. Conway</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Vinton A. Dearing</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Phillip Harth</span>, +<i>University of Wisconsin, Madison</i> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Louis A. Landa</span>, +<i>Princeton University</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Earl Miner</span>, +<i>Princeton University</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">James Sutherland</span>, +<i>University College, London</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Norman J. W. Thrower</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i></p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Robert Vosper</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i><p> +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">John M. Wallace</span>, +<i>University of Chicago</i></p> + + +<p class = "first">PUBLICATIONS MANAGER</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Nancy M. Shea</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i></p> + + +<p class = "first">CORRESPONDING SECRETARY</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Beverly J. Onley</span>, +<i>William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</i><p> + + +<p class = "first">EDITORIAL ASSISTANT</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<span class = "smallcaps">Frances Miriam Reed</span>, +<i>University of California, Los Angeles</i><p> + +</div> + + +<div class = "intro"> + +<span class = "pagenum intro">iii</span> +<h4 class = "chapter"><a name = "intro" id = "intro"> +INTRODUCTION</a></h4> + + +<p>In an address to the American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies +at the 1983 annual meeting, Roger Lonsdale suggested that our knowledge +of eighteenth-century poetry has depended heavily on what our +anthologies have decided to print. For the most part modern anthologies +have, in turn, drawn on collections put together at the end of the +eighteenth century and the beginning of the next, when the ideal for +inclusion was essentially that of “polite taste.” The obscene, the +feminine, and the political were by general cultural agreement usually +omitted. Lonsdale is not the only scholar questioning the basis of the +canon; indeed, revisionism is fast becoming one of the more +ingenious--and useful--parlor games among academics. Modern readers are +no longer so squeamish about obscenity nor so uncomfortable with the +purely personal lyric as were the editors at the end of the eighteenth +century. And we are hardly likely to find poetry written by women +objectionable on that score alone. In short, the anthologies we depend +upon are out of date.</p> + + +<p class = "space"> +Among the works that would never have been a source of poems for the +canon, and one mentioned by Lonsdale, was the collection of verse +published in four parts by J. Roberts beginning in 1731, <i>The +Merry-Thought: or, the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany</i>, +commonly known simply as <i>The Bog-House Miscellany</i>. Its +contemporary reputation may be described as infamous. James Bramston, in +his <i>The Man of Taste</i> (1733), mentioned it as an example in poetry +of the very opposite of “good Taste” (ARS 171 [1975], 7). Polite +taste, of course, is meaningful only if it can define itself by what it +excludes, and nothing could be in worse taste than a collection of +pieces written on windows, carved in tables, or inscribed on the walls +of Britain’s loos.</p> + +<p>Just as the compilers of a modern work, <i>The Good Loo Guide</i>, +were parodying a well-known guide book to British restaurants, so the +unknown authors of <i>The Merry-Thought</i> had some notion, however +discontinuous, of parodying the nation’s polite literature. Were not +Pope and Swift famous for their distinguished miscellanies? What could +<span class = "pagenum intro">iv</span> +be more amusing than a collection of poems that represented a different +poetic ideal--a collection of verse with none of the pretensions to +artistic merit claimed by the superstars of the poetic world--the +spontaneous productions of nonpoets in moments of idleness or +desperation. Apparently some of the inscribers in the bog-houses used +excrement as a medium for--as well as a subject of--their inscriptions. +<i>The Merry-Thought</i>, then, is not even the kind of art that Dryden +attacked in <i>MacFlecknoe</i> and Pope in his <i>Dunciad</i>--the work +of bad poets masquerading as geniuses.<a class = "tag" name = "tag1" id += "tag1" href = "#note1">1</a> Rather, it is a primitive form of folk +art produced as a more or less spontaneous act of play or passion, and +achieving some small degree of respectability only when practiced by a +respected poet and collected with his more serious verse.<a class = +"tag" name = "tag2" id = "tag2" href = "#note2">2</a> Like modern +“serial” graffiti, it could function as a form of communication since +the first inscriptions often provoked those who followed to make their +own contributions.</p> + +<p>Indeed, one of the more interesting aspects of graffiti is that in an +impermanent form it testifies to the continuance over the centuries of +certain human concerns. Recent studies of graffiti have often focused on +particular modern conflicts between races or nations, on drug problems, +and on specific political commentary.<a class = "tag" name = "tag3" id = +"tag3" href = "#note3">3</a> But such local matters aside, the content +of modern graffiti is surprisingly like that of earlier periods: +scatological observations, laments of lovers, accusations against women +for their sexual promiscuity, the repetition of “trite” poems and +sayings, and messages attributed to various men and women suggesting +their sexual availability and proficiency. And if the political targets +have changed over the years, many of the political attitudes have +remained consistent. Graffiti is an irreverent form, with strong popular +and anti-establishment elements. As actions common to all classes, +eating, drinking, defecation, and fornication find their lowly record in +graffiti-like form.</p> + +<p>On the most basic level, a writer will observe that the +excrement of the rich differs in no way from that of the poor. Thus one +poem, taken supposedly from a “Person of Quality’s Boghouse,” has the +following sentiment:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +Good Lord! who could think,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +That such fine Folks should stink?</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 2, p. 25)</p> +</div> + +<span class = "pagenum intro">v</span> + +<p>There is nothing very polite about such observations, and no +pretension to art. These verses belong strictly to folklore and the +sociology of literature, but they suggest some continuing rumbles of +discontent against the class system, the existence among the lower +orders of some of the egalitarian attitudes that survived the passing of +the Lollards and the Levellers. Who were the writers of these pieces? +Were they indeed laborers? Or were they from the lower part of what was +called the “middle orders”? Is there some evidence to be found in the +very fact that they could write?</p> + +<p>Graffiti may, indeed, tell us something about degrees of literacy. +One wit remarked that whatever the ability to read or write may have +been at the time, almost everyone seemed to have been literate when +presented with a bog-house wall: “Since all who come to Bog-house write” +(pt. 2, p. 26). The traditional connection between defecation +and writing was another comparison apparent to the commentators. One +wrote:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +There’s Nothing foul that we commit,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +But what we write, and what we sh - t.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 2, p. 13)</p> +</div> + +<p>And the lack of some paper or material to clean the rear end provoked +the following sentiment in the form of a litany:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t.</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +From Walls besmear’d with stinking Ordure,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +By Swine who <ins class = "correction" +title = "spelling unchanged">nee’r</ins> provide Bumfodder</p> +<p class = "inset6 nospace"> +<i>Libera Nos</i>----</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 4, p. 7)</p> +</div> + +<p>Other types of graffiti, however, vary from the very earnest +expression of affection to the nonexcrementally satiric. One of the more +unusual is a poem in praise of a faithful and loving wife:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset3"> +I kiss’d her standing,</p> +<p class = "inset4 nospace"> +Kiss’d her lying,</p> +<p class = "inset3 nospace"> +Kiss’d her in Health,</p> +<p class = "inset4 nospace"> +And kiss’d her dying;</p> +<span class = "pagenum intro">vi</span> +<p class = "inset3 nospace"> +And when she mounts <i>the Skies</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset4 nospace"> +I’ll kiss her flying.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 3, p. 5)</p> +</div> + +<p>Underneath this poem, <i>The Merry-Thought</i> records a favorable +comment on the sentiment. Even more earnest is the complaint of a woman +about her fate in love:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +Since cruel Fate has robb’d me of the Youth,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +I’ll ne’er love more, dispairing e’er to find,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +<i>Feb.</i> 18, 1725. </p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 2, p. 12)</p> +</div> + +<p>We will never know why she was unable to marry the man she truly +loved; but her bitterness may have been short-lived. Just after this +inscription comes a cynical comment identifying the lady as a member of +the Walker family. And the writer insists that like all women she was +inconstant, since he kissed her the next night.</p> + +<p>This cynical approach to love and women dominates <i>The +Merry-Thought</i>. Part three, for instance, contains a poem that reads +like a parody of Belinda awaking in the first canto of Pope’s <i>Rape of +the Lock</i>. The author, identified as W. Overb‑‑ry, +presents a realistic morning scene without either the charms and +beauties that surround Pope’s Belinda or the viciousness and focus of +Swift’s similar pictures (see pt. 3, p. 26).</p> + +<p>Prevailingly, women are depicted as sexually insatiable, as in a +piece written by a man who takes a month’s vacation from sex to recoup +his strength (pt. 2, p. 12). And the related image of the +female with a sexual organ capable of absorbing a man plays a variation +on the vagina dentata theme (e.g., pt. 2, pp. 19, 24). A drawing of +a man hanging himself for love raises a considerable debate on whether +such a thing can indeed occur (pt. 2, pp. 17-18). In a more +realistic vein, though equally cynical, is the poem on the woman who +complained of her husband making her pregnant so often:</p> + +<span class = "pagenum intro">vii</span> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was:</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +By the Lord, cries <i>She</i> then, if my Husband e’er come,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +I’ll storm, and I’ll swear, and I’ll run staring wild;</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child.</p> +<p class = "inset6"> +S. M. 1708.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 2, pp. 10-11)</p> +</div> + +<p>S. M. is clearly unsympathetic to the plight of married women in an +age with only the most primitive forms of birth control.<a class = "tag" +name = "tag4" id = "tag4" href = "#note4">4</a> The picture of her as a +long-suffering person is undercut by the casual male assumption that +giving birth was not really dangerous and that women make too much of +the pain and difficulty. That women were often forced to go through +thirteen or fourteen deliveries when little thought had yet been given +to creating an antiseptic environment for childbirth is apparently of +little concern to S. M., who finds in the apparent willingness of +the woman to have sexual intercourse one more time sufficient reason for +contempt.</p> + +<p>In addition to giving glimpses into social attitudes, <i>The +Merry-Thought</i> has a variety of inscriptions that show the way these +writings functioned. Professor George Guffey, in his introduction to the +first part of this work (ARS 216 [1982], iii-iv), remarks upon the +proposal scene carried on in <i>Moll Flanders</i> between Moll and the +admirer who will prove her third husband and her brother. Such scenes +involving witty proposals and responses cut into the windows of taverns +were real enough at the time. The exchange in part two of <i>The +Merry-Thought</i> is not, however, half so satisfactory. The woman takes +umbrage at her admirer’s suggestions that the glass on which he writes +is “the Emblem” of her mind in being “brittle, slipp’ry, [and] +pois’nous,” and writes in retort:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +Can’t prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(Pt. 2, p. 27)</p> +</div> + +<p>Though an easy cynicism about women’s availability and about the +body’s insistently animal functions predominates, there is enough +variety in <i>The Merry-Thought</i> to provide something of a picture of +eighteenth-century society were any future anthropologist +<span class = "pagenum intro">viii</span> +to come upon this volume as the sole remnant of that period. He would +see a society engaged rather more in animal functions than in +intellectual pursuits--a society rather more concerned with +drinking, love, and defecation than the picture presented by the polite +and intellectual literature of the time allowed. But he would also find +in the satirical squibs on Corny, the Cambridge bookseller and printer, +evidence of learning and university life (pt. 2, pp. 4-6) as well +as a criticism of opera (pt. 2, pp. 14-16). He would see numerous +young men longing for their mistresses to soften their hearts toward +them, and cynical older men who had lost their illusions about love. But +he could also come upon a straight piece of philosophy taken from the +still fashionable Flask tavern in Hampstead (pt. 2, p. 24) or +lowly bits of pious folk wisdom (pt. 2, p. 10). More often, +however, he would uncover a society in which there was little of the +generalized style that characterizes even the most personal formal +poetry of the period. Many of the writers identify themselves and the +names of the women they love or detest. In short, if these volumes do +little else, they do provide a vivid glimpse into the personal life of +the time, and to that extent an injection of some of these inscriptions +into the anthologies of the period might help in providing a lively and +piquant context for the serious artistic production of writers like Gay +and Swift.</p> + + +<p class = "space"> +The announced “publisher” of this olio was one Hurlothrumbo, +a character drawn from the theatrical piece of that name by Samuel +Johnson of Cheshire (1691-1773). Professor Guffey has proposed that +James Roberts, for whom the four parts were printed, “was almost +certainly the collector of the graffiti” and that the name of +Hurlothrumbo was invoked in order to attract some of the attention that +Samuel Johnson of Cheshire and his play were still receiving two years +after the play’s first performance and publication.<a class = "tag" name += "tag5" id = "tag5" href = "#note5">5</a> But Roberts would appear an +unlikely candidate for the role of editor;<a class = "tag" name = "tag6" +id = "tag6" href = "#note6">6</a> I would suggest, rather, the +possibility of a more direct and active connection with Samuel Johnson +of Cheshire: that he was himself likely the compiler of the four parts +of <i>The Merry-Thought</i> and that, whatever the individual versifiers +may have intended, this infamous collection of graffiti--<i>as +collection</i>--shares very closely with Johnson’s other work a spirit +of wild variety, eccentric juxtaposition, and essential anarchism that +is meant to lead, not +<span class = "pagenum intro">ix</span> +to clever parody of polite literature, but to a new, almost apocalyptic +vision of the sublime.</p> + +<p>At the first level, <i>Hurlothrumbo: Or, The Super-Natural</i> (1729) +itself appears to be quite simply a parody, in this case of opera in the +form of a work mixing dialogue and song in a manner similar to but much +wilder than Gay’s <i>Beggar’s Opera</i>. Johnson’s apparent takeoff on +the heroics of opera managed to include in its attack a commentary upon +the absurdity of contemporary tragedy as well as some specific +references to those works that aimed at the sublime. Lines like “This +World is all a Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav’d with Diamonds” +(48) seem to call the very nature of metaphor into question, especially +when juxtaposed with other delirious lines such as “Rapture is the Egg +of Love, hatched by a radiant Eye” (14) or by songs such as that sung by +the king on contemplating the effects of swallowing gunpowder and brandy +together:</p> + +<div class = "block"> +<p class = "inset2"> +Then Lightning from the Nostrils flies.</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +Swift Thunder-bolts from Anus, and the Mouth will break,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +With Sounds to pierce the Skies, and make the Earth to quake.</p> +<p class = "deepset"> +(P. 42)</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Hurlothrumbo</i> may be mostly nonsense, but from the standpoint +of literary history, it is highly significant nonsense. It represented a +revolt against all dramatic conventions and shared a number of qualities +with graffiti, including the sense of spontaneity.</p> + +<p>Had Johnson’s intention been something as relatively uncomplicated as +literary parody he would have achieved some minor fame in a century +which could boast any number of geniuses who had specialized in deriding +the pretentiousness of the more established literary forms, particularly +tragedy, the epic, and the pastoral. But Johnson of Cheshire lacked the +aesthetic distance required of sustained irony and had a grander purpose +in mind. His tradition was not that of the parodist but rather that of +the visionary--the mystic whose tendency is to merge the high and the +low, the sublime and the absurd, within a single work.<a class = "tag" +name = "tag7" id = "tag7" href = "#note7">7</a> He was not attacking the +extravagant rants of the heroic play as Fielding was to do in his +<i>Tragedy of Tragedies</i> (1731) or reflecting on opera and pastoral +as Gay had done in <i>The Beggar’s Opera</i> (1728); rather he was +trying, however unsuccessfully, to maintain his own work at the highest +reaches of sublimity. He was like one of Pope’s “<i>Flying Fishes</i>,” +who “now and then rise +<span class = "pagenum intro">x</span> +upon their fins and fly out of the Profound; but their wings are soon +dry, and they drop down to the bottom.”<a class = "tag" name = "tag8" id += "tag8" href = "#note8">8</a></p> + +<p>In his preface to <i>The Blazing Comet; or the Beauties of the +Poets</i> (1732), Johnson of Cheshire noted that “the same thought that +makes the Fool laugh, may make the wise Man sigh” (ix). Given such an +equivocal approach to the ways in which the audience responded to his +work, the poet could easily shrug off audience laughter to his most +“Sublime” lines. He was always ready “to leap up in Extasy; and dip ... +[his] Pen in the Sun” (iv). Parts of <i>Hurlothrumbo</i>, particularly +the scene between Lady Flame and Wildfire (both of whom are described in +the list of characters as “mad”) in which Wildfire threatens to cast off +his clothes and “run about stark naked” (48), bear an odd resemblance to +“The King’s Cameleopard” in <i>Huckleberry Finn</i>. But the +disconnected verbal structure, along with the music and dancing, +achieves a strange mixture that must have amused and, to a certain +extent, bemused its audience.</p> + +<p>Johnson called upon “Variety” as his most important artistic +principle, and he developed his ideas on this subject in <i>A Vision of +Heaven</i> (1738), a work which bears a striking resemblance to +William Blake’s <i>The Marriage of Heaven and Hell</i>.<a class = "tag" +name = "tag9" id = "tag9" href = "#note9">9</a> Johnson argues that all +surface appearances are merely a form of “Hieroglyphic” concealing a +true vision of things (6). His narrator is capable of what Blake was to +call “mental flight,” and there is a particularly vivid passage in which +the stars are seen as throwing down “freezing Daggers” at the poor +starving children in the streets and another in which we encounter an +aged woman who wields a broom against spiders and against all the young +women who threaten to come near the narrator (26).<a class = "tag" name += "tag10" id = "tag10" href = "#note10">10</a> The mystic temperament is +often capable of making connections between the spiritual and the +excremental,<a class = "tag" name = "tag11" id = "tag11" href = +"#note11">11</a> between the sublime and the bathos of “Thunder-bolts +from Anus.” Blake, we should recall, has poems depicting himself +defecating.<a class = "tag" name = "tag12" id = "tag12" href = +"#note12">12</a></p> + +<p>Whether Johnson actually collected <i>The Merry-Thought</i> or not, +the reasons for the association of these volumes with his name should +then be clear enough. While Fielding might appropriate the title +“Scriblerus Secundus” by way of staking out a line of descent for his +humor and satire, Hurlothrumbo was so thoroughly connected with Johnson +and his play that I can see no reason why he should not be considered +the likely editor of such a varied and eccentric collection of verse and +prose as <i>The Merry-Thought</i>. That the “Variety” bears no +<span class = "pagenum intro">xi</span> +resemblance to that of serious art, however, should be as obvious as the +difference between a William Blake and a Samuel Johnson of Cheshire. As +William Hogarth was to remark, “variety uncomposed, and without design +is confusion and deformity.”<a class = "tag" name = "tag13" id = "tag13" +href = "#note13">13</a></p> + +<p>Of course, miscellanies by their very nature are likely to be +organized according to principles of variety. What makes <i>The +Merry-Thought</i> different from those appealing to polite taste is the +wide swings of emotion that prompt the writers of these poems and catch +the compiler’s fancy. As we have seen, the verses themselves vary from +the grossest comments on shit to the most passionate expressions of +love. That the one is likely to appear on the walls of latrines and the +other to be cut in glass by a diamond is part of what Johnson would have +called the “Hieroglyphic” significance of this collection. In Johnson’s +plays, there is the odd mixture of vulgarity and sublimity, the comic +and the serious, the satirical and the nonsensical. If his dramas bear a +resemblance to Jarry’s <i>Ubu Roi</i>, so <i>The Merry-Thought</i> +resembles the kind of anthology that Jarry might have put together to +illustrate the absurd anarchy of the human spirit. Johnson, on the other +hand, regarded this seeming anarchy of human thoughts and feelings +optimistically as an emblem of human spirituality.</p> + +<p class = "space"><i>University of California,</i></p> + +<p class = "inset"><i>Los Angeles</i></p> + + + + +<span class = "pagenum intro">xii</span> +<h4 class = "chapter">NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION</h4> + +<div class = "footnotes"> + +<p><a name = "note1" id = "note1" href = "#tag1">1.</a> +On the other hand, the willingness of publishers to bring out such +material would have suited well enough with Pope’s picture of their +heroic games. See Alexander Pope, <i>The Dunciad</i>, ed. James +Sutherland, Twickenham Edition, 2d ed., rev. (London: Methuen, 1953), +297-306, bk 2, lines 17-220.</p> + +<p><a name = "note2" id = "note2" href = "#tag2">2.</a> +See, for example, W. H. Auden’s “Academic Graffiti,” in +<i>Collected Poems</i>, ed. Edward Mendelsohn (London: Faber and Faber, +1976), 510-18. Such a verse as the following is more clever than most +graffiti, but like ordinary graffiti it remains essentially “unpoetic”: +“Lord Byron / Once succumbed to a Siren. / His flesh was weak, / Hers +Greek.”</p> + +<p><a name = "note3" id = "note3" href = "#tag3">3.</a> +See, for example, Elizabeth Wales and Barbara Brewer, “Graffiti in the +1970’s,” <i>Journal of Social Psychology</i> 99 (1976): 115-23.</p> + +<p><a name = "note4" id = "note4" href = "#tag4">4.</a> +For an account of the horrors associated with childbirth, see Lawrence +Stone, <i>The Family, Sex, and Marriage in England, 1500-1800</i> (New +York: Harper and Row, 1977), 79-80.</p> + +<p><a name = "note5" id = "note5" href = "#tag5">5.</a> +See ARS 216, x, n. 12. Professor Guffey offers parallels between <i>The +Merry-Thought</i> and <i>Hurlothrumbo</i> in “Graffiti, Hurlo Thrumbo, +and the Other Samuel Johnson,” <i>Forum: A Journal of the Humanities and +Fine Arts</i> 17 (1979): 35-47.</p> + +<p><a name = "note6" id = "note6" href = "#tag6">6.</a> +Michael Treadwell has demonstrated that the “trade publishers” of the +eighteenth century, such as James Roberts, acted almost exclusively as +binders and distributors of books and were therefore different in kind +from the printers and booksellers, who were directly involved in the +selection and production process. Roberts and the other “trade +publishers” dealt almost exclusively in “works belonging to others,” and +Treadwell singles out Roberts as the purest example. Despite putting his +name to “literally thousands of works,” he never purchased any of the +copyrights on works during his long career. See “London Trade +Publishers, 1675-1750,” <i>Library</i>, 6th ser., 4 (1982): 99-134.</p> + +<p><a name = "note7" id = "note7" href = "#tag7">7.</a> +See Martin Pops, “The Metamorphosis of Shit,” <i>Salmagundi</i> 56 +(1982): 27-61.</p> + +<p><a name = "note8" id = "note8" href = "#tag8">8.</a> +Alexander Pope, <i>Peri Bathous</i>, in <i>Literary Criticism of +Alexander Pope</i>, ed. Bertrand A. Goldgar (Lincoln: University of +Nebraska Press, 1965), 54.</p> + +<p><a name = "note9" id = "note9" href = "#tag9">9.</a> +Without suggesting that Blake may have known of Johnson’s work, +I would nevertheless note the similarity of certain sections. Like +Blake, Johnson mingled comedy and satire in his vision.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum intro">xiii</span> +<p><a name = "note10" id = "note10" href = "#tag10">10.</a> +Compare Blake’s “The Mental Traveler,” <i>The Poetry and Prose of +William Blake</i>, ed. David Erdman and Harold Bloom (Garden City, N.Y.: +Doubleday, 1970), 476-77.</p> + +<p><a name = "note11" id = "note11" href = "#tag11">11.</a> +See Pops, 31.</p> + +<p><a name = "note12" id = "note12" href = "#tag12">12.</a> +Blake, <i>Poetry and Prose</i>, 491.</p> + +<p><a name = "note13" id = "note13" href = "#tag13">13.</a> +<i>The Analysis of Beauty</i>, ed. Joseph Burke (Oxford: Clarendon +Press, 1955), 35.</p> + +</div> <!--end of footnotes--> + +<h4 class = "chapter">BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</h4> + +<p>Part 2 (“The SECOND EDITION”) and Part 3 of <i>The Merry-Thought</i> +are reproduced in photographic facsimile from the copies in the William +Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *PR1195/H8H9/1731). They are +bound together with Part 1 (“the <span class = "smallcaps">Third +Edition</span>; with very Large Additions and Alterations”), which was +published as ARS 216 in 1982. A typical type page (pt. 2. +p. 7) measures 154 x 87 mm. Part 4 is reproduced from the copy +in the Bodleian Library, Oxford (Shelf Mark: Douce T. 168[5]).</p> + +</div> + +<hr> + +<a name = "partII" id = "partII"> </a> +<div class = "title"> + +<h5>THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT:</h2> + +<h5>OR, THE</h5> + +<h4>Glaſs-Window and Bog-Houſe</h4> + +<h4 class = "smallcaps extended">Miscellany.</h4> + +<h6>Taken from</h6> + +<p class = "hanging"> +The Original Manuscripts written in <i>Diamond</i> by Persons of the +first Rank and Figure in <i>Great Britain</i>; relating to Love, +Matrimony, Drunkenness, Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, +and many other Subjects, <i>Serious</i> and <i>Comical</i>.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "hanging"> +Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and Windows in the +several noted <i>Taverns</i>, <i>Inns</i>, and other <i>Publick +Places</i> in this Nation. Amongst which are inserted several curious +Pieces from both Universities.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><i>Published by</i> <span class = "extended">HURLO +THRUMB</span>O.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum,<br> +Gameyorum a Gamy,<br> +Flumarum a Flumarum,<br> +A Rigdum Bollarum<br> +A Rigdum, for a little Gamey.</i></p> + +<p class = "inset5"> +<ins class = "correction" title = +"spelling unchanged">Bethleham</ins>-Wall, Moor-Fields.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><span class = "extended">PART</span> II.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5 class = "extended">The SECOND EDITION.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5 class = "extended"><i>LONDON:</i></h5> + +<h5>Printed for <span class = "smallcaps extended">J. Roberts</span> in +<i>Warwick-Lane</i>; and Sold by the Booksellers in Town and Country. + [Price 6 <i>d.</i>]</h5> + +</div> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr class = "full"> +<hr class = "full"> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<p class = "hanging"> +<i>N. B.</i> The Editor returns his hearty Thanks to those Gentlemen who +have favoured him with their Letters, and intreats that they will be so +good as to continue to communicate whatever they shall meet with of this +Kind to the <span class = "smallcaps">Publisher</span>.</p> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr class = "full"> +<hr class = "full"> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">1</span> +<span class = "folionum">B</span> + +<h5 class = "extended">THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT.</h2> + +<h4><span class = "extended">PART</span> II.</h4> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p> </p> + +<h5 class = "extended">INTRODUCTION.</h5> + + +<p><span class = "firstword"> +<span class = "fourlines">Y</span>ou</span> +will pardon the Editor that he does not put Things better in Order; but +he is so engaged in reading the Letters sent him in from the two +Universities, after the Publication of the First Part, that he believes +the Preface is in the Middle of the Book; but I dare swear you’ll find +it somewhere or other, and so read on.</p> + +<div class = "poem"> + +<hr class = "mid"> + +<h5>In <em>Trinity-College</em> Bogs.</h5> + +<p>Ye <i>Cantabs</i> mind when ye are sh<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>t<span class = "hyphen">--</span>ng,</p> +<p>How nearly ’tis allied to Writing.</p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span>To Writing, say you? <span +class = "dash">——</span>pray how so?</p> +<p>An uncouth Simile, I trow.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">2</span> + +<p><span class = "dash">——</span>Hold, pray <span class = +"dash">——</span> Condemn it not untry’d;</p> +<p>Hear only how it is apply’d.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +As learned <i>Johnian</i> wracks his Brain<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>Thinks, <span class = "dash">——</span>hems, <span class = +"dash">——</span>looks wise, <span class = +"dash">——</span>then thinks again;<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>When all this Preparation’s done,</p> +<p>The mighty Product is <span class = "dash">——</span> a +Pun.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +So some with direful strange Grimaces,</p> +<p>Within this Dome distort their Faces;</p> +<p>Strain, <span class = "dash">——</span>squeeze, <span +class = "dash">——</span>yet loth for to depart,</p> +<p>Again they strain—for what? a Fart.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +Hence <i>Cantabs</i> take this moral Trite,</p> +<p>’Gainst Nature, if ye think or sh<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>te;</p> +<p>Use all the Labour, all the Art,</p> +<p>’Twill ne’er exceed a Pun, or Fart.</p> + + +<h5>Red-Lion, Egham.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Coquets will always merry prove;</p> +<p>But Prudes are those <i>give down their love</i>;</p> +<p>And love and move, and move to love.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>A Prude for my Money, by G<span class = "hyphen">--</span>d.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +T. S. 1711.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">3</span> +<span class = "folionum">B2</span> + +<h5 class = "long">Written on the Looking-Glass of Mr. T<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>p<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>n, Fellow-Commoner of Trinity-College, +Cambridge.</h5> + +<h5>Imago in Speculo loquitur ad T<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>p<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>n.</h5> + +<p class = "inset6 smaller">I.</p> + +<p>Thou pretty little fluttering Thing,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That mak’st this gaudy Shew;</p> +<p>Thou senseless Mimick of a Man,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Thou Being, call’d a Beau.</p> + + +<p class = "inset6 first smaller">II.</p> + +<p>Like me thou art an empty Form,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Like me alone, thou’rt made;</p> +<p>Like me delusive seem’st a Man,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But only art a Shade.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Tuns in Cambridge, Window facing a certain Alderman’s +in the Market.</h5> + +<p>Is <i>Molly Fr<span class = "dash">——</span></i> +immortal? <span class = "dash">——</span>No.</p> +<p>She is; and I will prove her so.</p> +<p>She’s fifteen now, and was, I know,</p> +<p>Fifteen, full fifteen Years ago.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>The Fates from Heaven late came Post;</p> +<p>And thus address’d this <i>Cambridge</i> Toast.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">4</span> + +<p>Say happy Maid that can detain</p> +<p>Old hoary Time in fetter’d Chain,</p> +<p>What wouldst thou have to set him free,</p> +<p>And give thy captive Liberty?</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +Miss <i>Molly</i> call’d Mamma aside,</p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> Whisper’d awhile, then +thus reply’d;</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +Upon my Life, all I would have</p> +<p>From <i>Victor</i> is to be a Slave;</p> +<p>I’ll soon untie this Captive’s Hands;</p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> Tie me but fast in +<i>Hymen</i>’s Bands.</p> + + +<h5>On the Same on another Pane.</h5> + +<p>At Home Miss <i>Molly</i>’s scarce fifteen.</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Mamma says she’s no more;</p> +<p>But if the Parish-Book says true,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Miss <i>Molly</i>’s thirty four.</p> +<p class = "inset5"> +Poor Miss <i>Molly</i>!</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Wrote on Cor<span class = +"dash">————</span> Cr<span class = +"dash">————</span>d’s (a Printer and Bookseller +in Cambridge) Window in the Shop.</h5> + +<p>Ye longing Sophs, say it who can,</p> +<p>That <i>Corny</i>’s not a learned Man.</p> +<p>He knows well each Edition, Sir,</p> +<p>Of <i>Aldus</i>, and of <i>Elzevir</i>;</p> +<p>Of <i>Beza</i> he profoundly reasons,</p> +<p>And talks jocose of <i>Harry Stephens</i>.</p> +<p>Though (says a Wag) all this I grant,</p> +<p>Yet <i>Corny</i> sure must Learning want.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part2">5</span> +<p>How so? <span class = "dash">——</span>It’s plain, (if +that we may</p> +<p>B’lieve what Men of themselves do say,)</p> +<p>For <i>Corny</i>’s openly* confess’d.</p> +<p>He’s but a Blockhead at the best.</p> + +<p class = "inset3 smaller"> +* <i>Corny</i>, in Printing a <i>Latin</i> Book, censur’d by the +University, was forced to plead <i>Ignoramus</i> to save his Bacon.</p> + + +<h5>Another in the Shop, on C<span class = +"dash">——</span>’s Title Page</h5> + +<h5><span class = "smallcaps">Learning</span>.</h5> + +<p>Within this learn’d Receptacle of Arts,</p> +<p><i>Corny</i>, if ask’d, on each can shew his Parts;</p> +<p>Alike a <i>Newton</i>, or a <i>Ratcliffe</i> prove;</p> +<p>A <i>Coke</i> in Law<span class = "dash">——</span>an +<i>Etheridge</i> in Love.—</p> +<p>Reason profound<span class = "dash">——</span>in Hist’ry +state each Fact,</p> +<p>Teach† <i>London</i> how to think, or <i>Walpole</i> how to act.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +O say from whence should all this Learning come.<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>From whence?<span class = "dash">——</span>from each dead +Sage around the Room.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +If <i>Corny</i> thence his Fund of Learning draws,</p> +<p>How great his Skill in Politicks or Laws? <span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>How deeply read? <span class = "dash">——</span> how vast +his learned Store? <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> When <span class = +"dash">——</span> past the Title, all his Learning’s +o’er.</p> + + +<p class = "inset3 smaller"> +† Bishop.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">6</span> + +<h5>Another in the Same.</h5> + +<p>Is <i>Corny</i>’s Learning much; my Friends;</p> +<p>Since where it does begin, <span class = "dash">——</span> +it ends?</p> + + +<h5>From a Window in Ardenham-House, Hertfordshire.</h5> + +<p>As glass obdurate no Impression takes,</p> +<p>But what the radiant piercing Diamond makes;</p> +<p>Just so my Heart all other Pow’rs defies,</p> +<p>But those of fair <i>Venilla</i>’s brilliant Eyes.</p> + + +<h5>Written in a Lady’s Dressing Room.</h5> + +<p><i>Brunetta</i>, I grant you, can give her Swain Death;</p> +<p>But ’tis not with her Eyes, but with her<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>ill Breath.</p> + + +<h5>From a Window in the Inner Temple-Hall.</h5> + +<p>Come hither, Barristers of Dress,</p> +<p>That once your Lips may meet Success:</p> +<p>From <i>Rufus</i>’ filthy Hall withdraw;</p> +<p>Here only ye can live by Law.</p> + + +<h5>A Rebus on Lady of Quality, on a Glass at the Old Devil Tavern.</h5> + +<p>What fly from her Eyes, and the Place whither I</p> +<p>Must soon be convey’d to, unless she comply,</p> +<p>Is the Name of the Beauty for whom I could die.</p> + +<p class = "prose first"> +<i>N. B.</i> Darts and <i>Shafts</i> fly from her Eyes, and if one dies, +one must be <i>bury</i>’d.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">7</span> +<h5>Under the Rebus on Lady Sh<span class = "hyphen">---</span>bury, at +the Devil Tavern, is this;</h5> + +<p>What opens a Door, and a Word of Offence,</p> +<p>Tell the Name of a Nymph of Wit, Beauty, and Sense.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +Supposed to be for Miss <i>Ke<span class = "hyphen">-</span>ly</i>.</p> + + +<h5>From the Window of a Chamber in the Inner Temple.</h5> + +<p>For dear <i>Venilla</i> in my Arms,</p> +<p>I’d scorn all other female Charms;</p> +<p>Ten thousand Beauties she can spare,</p> +<p>And still be <i>Fairest</i> of the <i>Fair</i>.</p> + + +<h5>From innumerable Windows.</h5> + +<p>Like <i>Mars</i> I’ll fight, like <i>Antony</i> I’ll love,</p> +<p>I’ll drink like <i>Bacchus</i>, and I’ll whore like <i>Jove</i>.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">From the Apollo, the large Dancing-Room in the Devil +Tavern, written when some were engaged in a particular +Country-Dance.</h5> + +<p>This Dance foretells that Couple’s Life,</p> +<p>Who mean to dance as Man and Wife;</p> +<p>As here, they’ll first with Vigour set,</p> +<p>Give Hands, and turn whene’er they meet;</p> +<p>But soon will quit their former Track,</p> +<p>Cast off and end in Back to Back.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">8</span> +<h5>From the Angel Tavern, Temple-Bar.</h5> + +<p>’Tis hard! ’tis wonderous hard!</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That the Life of a Man</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Should be but a Span,</p> +<p>And that of a Woman a Yard!</p> + + +<h5>From a Watch-Maker’s Window, Fleet-Street.</h5> + +<p>Here Time is bought and sold: ’Tis plain, my Friend,</p> +<p>My Clocks and Watches shew what I intend;</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +For you I Time correct,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +My Time I spend;</p> +<p class = "inset4"> +By Time I live,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But not one Inch will lend,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Except you pay the ready down or send:</p> +<p class = "inset4"> +I trust no Time,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Unless the Times do mend.</p> + + +<h5>On a Watch-Case in a Gentleman’s Pocket, given him by a Lady.</h5> + +<p>The Wretched pray to make more Haste,</p> +<p>The Happy say we fly too fast;</p> +<p>Therefore impossible to know,</p> +<p>Whether I go too fast or slow.</p> + +<p class = "author">S. M.</p> + + +<h5>At Hollyhead, I suppose, written by some Creation-Mender.</h5> + +<p>Arra, now what signifies the making the two great Lights?</p> +<p>The Sun to light the Day, and the Moons to light the Nights:</p> +<span class = "pagenum part2">9</span> +<span class = "folionum">C</span> +<p>For the Sun in the Day-Time there is no Occasion,</p> +<p>Because I can see very well after my Persuasion:</p> +<p>But for the Moons, they are very good in a dark Night,</p> +<p>Because when we cannot see they give us a Light.</p> + + +<h5>Crown at Harlow.</h5> + +<p>Rail at your Father, rail at your Mother,</p> +<p>Rail at your Sister, rail at your Brother,</p> +<p>Rail on, my Boys, and rail at one another.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Rail as you say, and you’ll be all railed in.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written upon the Wall of Clements-Inn, when the Dial +was put up which is supported by a black Slave in a kneeling +Posture.</h5> + +<p>In vain poor sable Son of Woe,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Thou seek’st a tender Ear;</p> +<p>In vain thy Tears with Anguish flow,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +For Mercy dwells not here:</p> +<p>From Cannibals thou fly’st in vain,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Lawyers less Quarter give;</p> +<p>The first won’t eat you till you’re slain,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The last will do’t alive.</p> + + +<h5>Hampstead on a Window.</h5> + +<p>I am a Dog <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p class = "inset"> +In true Fidelity</p> +<p>I am a Sun <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p class = "inset"> +In faithful Constancy:</p> +<span class = "pagenum part2">10</span> +<p>I am a Stote, <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p class = "inset"> +To please a lustful Lass;</p> +<p>I am a Hog, <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p class = "inset"> +And you may kiss my A<span class = "dash">——</span>se.</p> +<p>But if my <i>Celia</i> comes within my Ken;</p> +<p>Then I shall be again like other Men.</p> + + +<h5>On another at the same Place.</h5> + +<p>My Wife says, Whither do you go?</p> +<p>And I return, my dear, I do not know;</p> +<p>Then d<span class = "dash">——</span>n your Blood, says +she, to use me thus;</p> +<p>And then I call her catterwauling Puss.</p> + + +<h5>Hampton-Court, at the Mitre.</h5> + +<p>A Ramp of very noted Name,</p> +<p>I need not say, for all Men know her Fame,</p> +<p>Lascivious, as the human Race could be,</p> +<p>She could not see a Man, but fell in Extasy.</p> + + +<h5>On a dyer’s Sign at Southwark.</h5> + +<p>I die to live,</p> +<p>I live to die,</p> +<p>And hope to live eternally.</p> + + +<h5>At the Star at Coventry.</h5> + +<p>A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case,</p> +<p>She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was:</p> +<p>By the Lord, cries <i>She</i> then, if my Husband e’er come,</p> +<p>Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum,</p> +<span class = "pagenum part2">11</span> +<span class = "folionum">C2</span> +<p>I’ll storm, and I’ll swear, and I’ll run staring wild;</p> +<p>And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child.</p> + +<p class = "author">S. M. 1708.</p> + + +<h5>By Desire not to insert the Place.</h5> + +<p>What care I for Mistress May’ress;</p> +<p>She’s little as the Queen of Fairies:</p> +<p>Her little Body like my Thumb,</p> +<p>Is thicker far than <i>other some</i>;</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide;</p> +<p>Either on this, or t’other Side,</p> +<p>That none could tell when they did ride.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +Swim for thy Life, dear Boy, for I can feel neither Bottom nor +Sides.</p> + + +<h5>In Pencil upon a Wall in a Tavern near Covent-Garden.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +I become all Things to all Men, to gain some, or I must have +starved.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Moll. Friskey.</i></p> + + +<h5>Star-Inn at Coventry.</h5> + +<p><i>Molly</i> the gay, the black, the friskey,</p> +<p>Would kiss like any wanton Gipsey;</p> +<p>Nor was her Mouth alone the Case,</p> +<p>A Man of Worth might kiss her A<span class = +"dash">——</span>se.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">12</span> +<h5>At a Tavern at the Royal Exchange.</h5> + +<p>I’ve now a Coach and Six before me,</p> +<p>Each female court’sies to adore me:</p> +<p>But from my dearest I can’t part,</p> +<p>Without returning her my Heart:</p> +<p>Tell her I am gone a Month or longer,</p> +<p>While she may gain more Love, and I grow stronger.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>S. M. Oct.</i> 17. 1720.</p> + + +<h5>From a Tavern in Fleet-Street.</h5> + +<p>I’ll drink like <i>Bacchus</i>, and I’ll fight like <i>Mars</i>,</p> +<p>The Kind I’ll love, the Cross may kiss my A<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>In the same Room in a Woman’s Hand.</h5> + +<p>Since cruel Fate has robb’d me of the Youth,</p> +<p>For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth,</p> +<p>I’ll ne’er love more, dispairing e’er to find,</p> +<p>Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Feb.</i> 18, 1725.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose">I kiss’d her the next Night, and she’s one of the +<i>Walkers</i> Family.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Feb.</i> 18. 1725.</p> + + +<h5>Dublin in a Window in Castle-Street.</h5> + +<p>O mortal Man that’s made of Clay,</p> +<p>Is here to-Morrow, and is gone to Day.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">13</span> +<h5>In a Bog-House at Hampstead.</h5> + +<p>There’s Nothing foul that we commit,</p> +<p>But what we write, and what we sh<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>t.</p> + + +<h5>Three-Pigeons at Brentford.</h5> + +<p>Wer’t not for <i>Whims</i>, Candles, and Carrots</p> +<p>Young Fellows Things might ride in Chariots.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Tom Long, July</i> 17.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Heaven for all those Helps to Nature,</p> +<p>Or else poor P<span class = "dash">——</span> could get no +Quarter.</p> + + +<h5>Letter on a Window at Stony-Stratford, to Miss Mary V<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>d<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>le.</h5> + +<p>We shall B in better Q,</p> +<p>When U have I, and I have U.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +T. M. 1720</p> + + +<h5>From a Window in Hell, near Westminster-Hall.</h5> + +<p>Old <i>Orpheus</i> tickled his Harp so well,</p> +<p>That he tickled <i>Eurydice</i> out of Hell,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +With a Twing come Twang, and a Twing come Twang; but,</p> +<p>Some say <i>Euridice</i> was a Scold</p> +<p>Therefore the Devil of her took hold,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +With a Twing come Twang, &c.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +S. S. 1714.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">14</span> +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>If my Wife had been e’er in the Devil’s Hands,</p> +<p>You know it would loose all other Bands,</p> +<p>And I should been pleased with House and Lands.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +F. R. 1718.</p> + + +<h4 class = "extended">PREFACE.</h4> + +<p class = "prose"> +<i>From a Paper found in the Street at Twelve at Night, 1708. near +Covent-Garden. Argument concerning a Greek Opera that was to have been +set on Foot, when People liked to see and hear Operas first in +Italian.</i></p> + +<p class = "prose"> +<span class = "firstword"> +<span class = "twolines">A</span>s</span> Languages are introduced among +us Christian People daily that we do not understand, by Way of +<i>Italian</i> Opera, <i>&c.</i> why may we not entertain the +Publick with a little <i>Greek</i>, as natural as Pigs +squeak.—</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +<i>And for </i>Latin<i>, ’tis no more dificile,</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Than for a Blackbird ’tis to whistle.</i></p> + +<p class = "author">Hud.</p> + +<p class = "prose"> +I love dearly to quote my Authors.</p> + +<p class = "prose"> +I have been with both the Play-Houses, and one says d<span class = +"dash">——</span>n it, it won’t do; and t’other says, Z<span +class = "dash">——</span>ds it will not take; then says I to +myself, I’ll have a <i>Greek</i> Opera, by G<span class = +"hyphen">‑‑</span>d; and with this Resolution I set about +it, and made a Specimen, and +<span class = "pagenum part2">15</span> +so went with it in a Chair to the Opera-House, to give it the better +Grace. But that would not do neither; for one did not understand +<i>Greek</i>; nor t’other did not understand <i>Greek</i>; and +<i>Italian</i> was all in Vogue: And I did not understand that; and so +we could make no Bargain, and I returned Home.</p> + +<p class = "prose"> +Z<span class = "dash">——</span>ds, thinks I, if I don’t +understand their barbarous Language, must I let them have any Thing of +my ancient Language? No, Messieurs! I’ll let my Opera remain in its +Infancy, and you shall curse yourselves before you have it compleat; but +that you shall know what Fools you have been, I’ll stick a Needle +through my Nose, that you may look sharp; and then you will say, why did +not US take it, for in the first Scene I saw all the Audience laugh. But +to the Point, <i>i.e.</i> the second Preamble or Argument,</p> + + +<h4 class = "extended">OPERA.</h4> + +<p class = "prose"> +Scene is the City of <i>Athens</i>, and an old Woman lives in a hollow +Tree, where she sells Gin and Gingerbread to the Grenadiers; her Name is +Gammer <i>Hocus</i>. Then there comes a Goddess, who sells Butter and +Eggs at <i>Athens</i> Market, upon her Uncle’s bald Mare; and as the +Mare is a stumbling Jade, so she falls down before <i>Hocus</i>’s Tree, +and hurts her Rump, and then we begin.</p> + +<p class = "prose"> +<i>N. B.</i> When the Goddess <i>Cinderaxan</i> falls down before Gammer +<i>Hocus</i>’s Door, or Tree, she begins in <i>Ricitativo</i><span class += "dash">——</span><i>Greek</i> Fashion.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">16</span> + +<p class = "inset first"> +<i>O! mega mar, hocus the baldmare has cantedme ontoss;</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +* <i>Phillàdram sukami, some Spirit offerme to suckon.</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Dear <em>Hokey</em> behasty, forbum sufferssore by a +Thumpon’t;</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>No baldmare my Gammon shall contuseagain by one moretoss.</i></p> + +<p class = "inset3 smaller">* Fill.</p> + +<p class = "prose"> +<i>English’d</i> thus for the Benefit of the Ladies, though ’tis much +the same in the <i>Greek</i>.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +<i>O my Gammer <em>Hocus</em>, the bald Mare has canted me one +Toss;</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Fill a Dram, sick am I, some Spirit offer me to suck on.</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Dear <em>Hokey</em> be hasty, for Bum suffers sore by a Thump +on’t.</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>No bald Mare my Gammon shall contuse again by one more Toss.</i></p> + +<p class = "prose"> +Then out comes Gammer <i>Hocus</i>, when the Goddess had called for a +Dram in the second Line, and sings with an Air, seeing her Goddessship +as dirty as the Devil.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +<i><em>Cinderaxan</em>’s sablehew’d Aspect,<span class = +"dash">——</span></i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Fulloffun, though the Doxey can seemcoy.</i></p> + +<p class = "prose"> +And here we leave off. Is not the Devil in the People, that they will +not encourage a good Thing, when they have it before them.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">17</span> +<span class = "folionum">D</span> + +<h5>Crown at Uxbridge, <em>1708</em>.</h5> + +<h5>An Acrostick upon something or other.</h5> + +<p>Commodious for a Haven made,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Under a rising Bank,</p> +<p>Nature has fix’d a Place of Trade,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +To Men of any Rank.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Riddle my ree, <i>&c.</i></p> +<p>And read the four first Letters, and you’ll see.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>R. M.</i></p> + +<h5 class = "long"><a name = "drawing" id = "drawing"> +A Man hanging for Love</a>, drawn when Painting was in its Cradle, with +his Dog barking at him, <em>viva voce</em>. From the three Pigeons at +Brentford.</h5> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pic2_17.png" width = "251" height = "165" +alt = "picture described above"> +</p> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">18</span> + +<p class = "prose"> +The Occasion of this dangling Story, was from a Lady who hated him, and +set him about it.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +Go hang thyself, quoth cruel She,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Go hang thyself I say.</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The Man obey’d her presently,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And made himself away.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Mary Worthless.</i></p> + +<p class = "prose"> +The Criticks do not make out whether he <i>walk’d</i> off, or +<i>went</i> off, neither does the Figure determine which.</p> + +<p class = "inset first"> +Hang me, if I will <i>hang</i> for any Woman,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +For most of them alike are very common;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +I’d sooner trudge as I have done before,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Than hang upon a d<span class = "dash">——</span>d confounded +Whore.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>No Matter if the Man is longer than the Gallows,</p> +<p>He smokes and drinks his Glass like honest Fellows.</p> + + +<h5>Upon a Drinking-Glass at Charing-Cross.</h5> + +<p><i>Nanny Sach<span class = "dash">——</span>l</i> is all +my Toast;</p> +<p>She’s all I wish for, and is all my Boast.</p> + + +<h5>Egham, at the Red Lion.</h5> + +<p>Help me, ye Pow’rs, to sing my <i>Sylvia</i>’s Praise;</p> +<p>Nor <i>P<span class = "hyphen">--</span>pe</i> nor <i>Sw<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>ft</i> can do it now a-days.</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>But you, nor I, or them, can ever boast,</p> +<p>There ever was in <i>Europe</i> such a Toast;</p> +<p>All we can say, is, <i>Lucy</i> rules the Roast.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">19</span> +<span class = "folionum">D2</span> +<h5>At a Place not to be recorded.</h5> + +<p>A d<span class = "hyphen">---</span>d confounded Bitch,</p> +<p>Ugly and cunning as a Witch.</p> +<p>Her Bill shall be preferr’d by Law;</p> +<p>The House we wish we’d never saw.</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +One Pound five and ten Pence;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Grant her Repentance;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +We’ll never come here again;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And let her alone remain.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +J. S.<br> +R. S. 17 July.<br> +1722. very truly.</p> + + +<p>I do not complain of my <i>Phillis</i>,</p> +<p>Because I know what her proud Will is;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +For I know how she’ll rant,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And I know what I want;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +G<span class = "hyphen">--</span>d d<span class = "hyphen">---</span>n +her old Aunt;</p> +<p>I stand here, and wait for her, <span class = "smallcaps">That</span> +<i>still is</i>.</p> + + +<h5>On a beautiful Sempstress, in a Window at Charing-Cross.</h5> + +<p><i>Dolly</i>, with Beauty and Art,</p> +<p>Has so hemm’d in my Heart,</p> +<p>That I cannot resist the Charm.</p> +<p class = "inset"> +In Revenge I will stitch</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Up the Hole near her Breach,</p> +<p>With a Needle as long as my Arm.</p> + +<p class = "author">R.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">20</span> +<h5 class = "long">Two Girls at a Bar, that would do’t, and one +Gentleman would chatter too long.</h5> + +<p>What the Devil should we meddle</p> +<p>With diddle daddle, fiddle faddle;</p> +<p>We shall lose the Girls that please;</p> +<p>Go to Bed, and take your Ease.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +M. C. to his Friend.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose">I know they’ll ease you both, for I have been aboard +of them.</p> + +<p class = "author">R. C.</p> + + +<p class = "first"> +I shall tell best at the next Meeting:</p> +<p>The Proof of the Pudding is in the eating.</p> + + +<h5>Blue Posts, Charing-Cross.</h5> + +<p>Use me friendly, use me kind;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +I’ll be the kindest of my Sex;</p> +<p>I’ll love, be constant, and you’ll find,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +I’ll be your own in <i>Middlesex</i>.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Molly Sh<span class = "dash">——</span>r.</i></p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Take care you keep her Country to yourself.</p> + +<p class = "author">M. L.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">21</span> + +<h5>Red Lion at Egham.</h5> + +<p>I <i>watch</i> and <i>pray</i> for dearest <i>Nancy</i>,</p> +<p>Because I always love her Fancy;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +But then there comes,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Like Bailiff Bums,</p> +<p>The <i>Watch</i> with Lights we <i>can see</i>;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And then she’ll pray,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And I must pay,</p> +<p>And retreat as clean as a Tansey.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>For Money one may whore,</p> +<p>And I’ll say no more.<span class = "dash">——</span></p> + +<p class = "author">R. T.</p> + + +<h5>At the same Place.</h5> + +<p>I am a young Thing, just come from my Mammy.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +S. L.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten</h5> + +<p>Then you want to be kiss’d, G<span class = "hyphen">--</span>d d<span +class = "hyphen">---</span>n ye.</p> + +<p class = "author">Captain R. T.</p> + + +<h5>Bull-and-Mouth-Street.</h5> + +<p>If Virtue rules the Minds of Women,</p> +<p>They’ll never let you touch their Linnen;</p> +<p>But if they are not Virtue Proof,</p> +<p>Then you may kiss them oft enough.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">22</span> + +<h5>Uxbridge, at the Crown.</h5> + +<p><i>Molley</i> came up to Town precise,</p> +<p>Demure, yet fire in her Eyes;</p> +<p>So did she look confounded civil;</p> +<p>With Grace and Beauty like a Devil;</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>But soon her Eyes drew in some Hearts,</p> +<p>And some <i>Things else</i> like <i>Cupid</i>’s Darts,</p> +<p>Which gave her Pains, and many Smarts.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Thou Puppy, <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p>The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart,</p> +<p>And drew the Fire to her lower Part.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>R. L.</i></p> + + +<h5>From the same Place.</h5> + +<p>After a tedious Journey, and my Supper,</p> +<p>And dam<span class = "dash">——</span>d uneasy with my +Crupper,</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p><i>Jenney</i> came up to warm my Bed,</p> +<p>A pretty Girl; but I was dead,</p> +<p>Or else I’d had her Maidenhead.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>R. T.</i></p> + + +<h5>Swan at Uxbridge.</h5> + +<p>Who’s been here,</p> +<p>The Devil I fear;</p> +<p>For he’s left the Bottles clear.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>R. Est<span class = +"dash">——</span>n</i>, 1710.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +’Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>G. S.</i> 1711.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">23</span> + +<h5>Boghouse at Uxbridge.</h5> + +<p>If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink,</p> +<p>You may say, if you will, it is natural <i>Instinct</i>.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +You may quibble upon the Word <i>Instinct</i>, if you will; but I think +’tis better out than in, considering the Case.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>I. M.</i> of <i>Oxon.</i></p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in +Drury-Lane, on a Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal.</h5> + +<p>Grant us good lusty Men, ye gracious Pow’rs!</p> +<p>Or else stop up those craving Things of ours!</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near +Cripplegate, written upon a Wall.</h5> + +<p>Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Will make a <ins class = "correction" title = +"shown as printed">T d</ins> more lasting;</p> +<p>Therefore I think he is a Fool,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That goes out in a Morning fasting.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Tom. Rudge.</i></p> + +<p class = "prose"> +We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast.</p> + +<span class = "pagenum part2">24</span> + +<p class = "first"> +When I lay with my bouncing <i>Nell</i>,</p> +<p>I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell:</p> +<p>But I think in this Case it was damnable hard,</p> +<p>When I gave her an Inch, she’d want more than a Yard.</p> + + +<h5>Hampstead, at the Flask.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, <i>says one of the +Greek Philosophers</i>.</p> + + +<h5>Hoxton, on a Wall.</h5> + +<p>What Difference between Kings T<span class = "hyphen">---</span>ds +and mine?</p> +<p>One may be costive, one be full of Slime;</p> +<p>Yet equally will any Hog that feeds,</p> +<p>Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself.</p> + + +<h5>Hampstead, at the Flask.</h5> + +<p>Tell me why, ye gen’rous Swains?</p> +<p>Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains?</p> +<p>Why does <i>Sylvia</i> leave the Green?</p> +<p>Has she done any Thing obscene?</p> +<p>They all reply’d, Your <i>Sylvia</i>’s gone;</p> +<p>For she will do’t with ev’ry one.</p> + + +<h5>From the Red Lyon at Egham.</h5> + +<p>She that thinks upon her Honour,</p> +<p>Needs no other Guard upon her.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">25</span> +<span class = "folionum">E</span> + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>She that has a Man upon her,</p> +<p>Never thinks upon her Honour.</p> + + +<h5>In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin.</h5> + +<p>You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use,</p> +<p>Pray lick ’em clean, and don’t this Wall abuse.</p> + + +<h5>Under which is written;</h5> + +<p>These House-of-Office Poets, by the L<span class = +"hyphen">---</span>d,</p> +<p>Instead of Laurel, should be crown’d with T<span class = +"hyphen">---</span>d.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the +Road to West Chester.</h5> + +<p>Host! wou’d you paint your Crosses to the Life,</p> +<p>Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife.</p> + + +<h5>On A Window at Canbury-House.</h5> + +<p>The Breast of ev’ry <i>British</i> Fair,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Like this bright, brittle, slippery Glass,</p> +<p>A Diamond makes Impression there,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Though on the Finger of an Ass.</p> + + +<h5>On a Person of Quality’s Boghouse.</h5> + +<p>Good Lord! who could think,</p> +<p>That such fine Folks should stink?</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">26</span> + +<h5>On a Window at Bushy-Hall, Hertfordshire.</h5> + +<p>Love is like Blindman’s Buff, where we pursue,</p> +<p>We know not what we catch, we know not who;</p> +<p>And when we grasp our Wish, what Prize is won?</p> +<p>Our Eyes are open’d, and the Play is done.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Some Love Verses being first written on a Window in +Brook-Street, and scratched out, occasioned the following:</h5> + +<p>Good grave Papa, you hope in vain,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +By blotting this to mend her;</p> +<p>She who writes Love upon the Pane,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Will soon leap out at Window.</p> + + +<h5>On the Middle Temple Boghouse.</h5> + +<p>Well sung of Yore, a Bard of Wit,</p> +<p>That some Folks read, but all Folks sh<span class = +"hyphen">---</span>t;</p> +<p>But now the Case is alter’d quite,</p> +<p>Since all who come to Boghouse write.</p> + + +<h5>On the same Place.</h5> + +<p>Because they cannot eat, some Authors write;</p> +<p>And some, it seems, because they cannot sh<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>te.</p> + + +<h5>On a Glass at the Devil Tavern, Temple-Bar.</h5> + +<p>The stubborn Glass no Character receives,</p> +<p>Except the Stamp the piercing Brilliant gives.</p> +<p>A female Heart thus no Impression takes,</p> +<p>But what the Lover tipp’d with Diamond makes.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">27</span> + +<h5>At Launder’s Coffee-House, in the Old Play-House Passage.</h5> + +<p>Dear <i>Pat</i>, ’tis vain to patch or paint,</p> +<p>Since still a fragrant Breath you want;</p> +<p>For though well furnish’d, yet all Folks</p> +<p>Despise a Room whose Chimney smokes.</p> + + +<h5>White-Hart at Watford.</h5> + +<p align = "center">Parody of four Lines of <i>Dryden</i>.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Glass with a Diamond does our Wit betray;</p> +<p>Who can write sure on that smooth slippery Way?</p> +<p>Pleas’d with our scribling we cut swiftly on,</p> +<p>And see the Nonsense, which we cannot shun.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at the Kings-Arms Tavern, Fleet-Street.</h5> + +<p>Both mine and Women’s Fate you’ll judge from hence ill,</p> +<p>That we are pierc’d by ev’ry Coxcomb’s Pencil.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written in a Window at a private House, by a +desponding Lover in the Presence of his Mistress.</h5> + +<p>This Glass, my Fair’s the Emblem of your Mind,</p> +<p>Which brittle, slipp’ry, pois’nous oft we find.</p> + + +<h5>Her Answer underneath.</h5> + +<p>I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass,</p> +<p>Can’t prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part2">28</span> + +<h5>Sent by an unknown Hand.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +O ye Powers above!</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +Who of Mortals take Care,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Make Women less cruel,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +More fond, or less fair.</p> +<p>Was <i>Helen</i> half so fair, so form’d for Joy,</p> +<p>Well fought the <i>Trojan</i>, and well burnt was <i>Troy</i>.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<h4 class = "extended"><i>FINIS.</i></h4> + +</div> + +<hr> + +<a name = "partIII" id = "partIII"> </a> +<div class = "title"> + +<h5>THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT:</h2> + +<h5>OR, THE</h5> + +<h4>Glaſs-Window and Bog-Houſe</h4> + +<h4 class = "smallcaps extended">Miscellany.</h4> + +<h6>Taken from</h6> + +<p class = "hanging"> +The Original Manuscripts written in <i>Diamond</i> by Persons of the +first Rank and Figure in <i>Great Britain</i>; relating to Love, +Matrimony, Drunkenness, Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, +and many other Subjects, <i>Serious</i> and <i>Comical</i>.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "hanging"> +Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and Windows in the +several noted <i>Taverns</i>, <i>Inns</i>, and other <i>Publick +Places</i> in this Nation. Amongst which are intermixed the Lucubrations +of the polite Part of the World, written upon Walls in Bog-houses, +<i>&c.</i></p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><i>Published by</i> <span class = "extended">HURLO +THRUMB</span>O.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum,<br> +Gameyorum a Gamy,<br> +Flumarum a Flumarum,<br> +A Rigdum Bollarum<br> +A Rigdum, for a little Gamey.</i></p> + +<p class = "inset5"> +Bethlehem-Wall, Moor-Fields.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><span class = "extended">PART</span> III.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5 class = "extended"><i>LONDON:</i></h5> + +<h5>Printed for <span class = "smallcaps extended">J. Roberts</span> in +<i>Warwick-Lane</i>; and Sold by the Booksellers in Town and Country. + [Price 6 <i>d.</i>]</h5> + +</div> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr class = "full"> +<hr class = "full"> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<h5 class = "extended">THE</h5> + +<h1 class = "extended">PREFACE.</h1> + + +<p><span class = "firstword"> +<span class = "fourlines">T</span>his</span> +is purposely to acknowledge the Obligations I owe to several Gentlemen, +who have shewn their Esteem of the <span class = "smallcaps">Merry +Thought</span>, in the large Collections they have communicated before +the Holidays: For who knows, but many of their Pieces might have been +lost, by the Effects of Wine, Punch, and strong Beer, in the +<i>Christmas</i> Time; or by a Game at Ramps, or Blind-Man’s-Buff; or +unlucky Boys; or the sticking the Windows with Holley and Ivy: All these +Hazards did we run of having many curious Pieces destroy’d, and bury’d +in Oblivion. And then again, the Cleaning the Windows against the +Holidays might have endanger’d the Loss of many of these brittle Leaves +of Wit and Learning. But now, we may sing <i>Old Rose</i>, since a large +Cargoe is already arriv’d safe at the Press. In order for a third Part, +I have myself taken Care to visit most of the Glasiers in Town +where I just came Time enough to save some few Scraps of Wit; and have +bribed a great Number of Football-Players, not to use that Diversion +near some particular Places about this Great City, where many curious +Epigrams, Sonnets, and Whims, are at present uncopy’d; and if they +should escape a few Days longer, will make a fourth Volume, with the +kind Assistance of those Correspondents who have sent me promissory +Notes for the Delivery of certain Parcels of such Wit, on or about the +Twenty-fifth of this Instant <i>January</i>. I remain, Gentlemen, +after hoping you are in good Health, as I am at this present Writing, +and wishing you all many happy Years,</p> + +<h5><i>Your obliged humble Servant,</i></h5> + +<h4 class = "smallcaps space">Hurlo Thrumbo.</h4> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr class = "full"> +<hr class = "full"> + +<span class = "pagenum part3">1</span> +<span class = "folionum">B</span> + +<h5 class = "extended">THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT.</h2> + +<h4><span class = "extended">PART</span> III.</h4> + + +<p class = "space">Mr. <i>BOG</i>,</p> + +<p> +<span class = "firstword"><span class = "twolines">T</span>he</span> +following <i>Miscellanea Curiosa</i> you may either insert in your third +Part, or use them for your latter Part; which you please.</p> + +<div class = "poem"> + +<h5>From a Window at the Angel in Marlborough.</h5> + +<p><i>W<span class = "dash">——</span>s</i> lay at the +<i>Angel</i> in <i>Marlborough</i> Town,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And an Angel lay with him all Night:</p> +<p>He tipp’d her an Angel before she lay down,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Which you know was but decent and right.</p> +<p>But an Angel of Darkness she prov’d to be sure;</p> +<p>For scarce twenty Angels would pay for his Cure.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written on the Wall at the George in Sandy-Lane, in +the Bath Road, a Place famous for Puddings.</h5> + +<p>The Puddings are so good in <i>Sandy-Lane</i>,</p> +<p>That if I chance to go that Way again,</p> +<p>I’ll not be satisfy’d, unless I’ve twain,</p> +<p>The one stuck thick with Plumbs, the other plain.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">2</span> + +<h5 class = "long">At the Sun-Tavern at Billingsgate, written on the +Wainscot.</h5> + +<p>Upon the Ground he spread his Cloak;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The Nymph she was not shy, Sir;</p> +<p>And there they fairly did the Joke,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Whilst through this Crack peep’d I, Sir.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Oct.</i> 27, 1722.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Mr. Pimp, had I known your Worship was there,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Which I no more dreamt of, than sleeping,</p> +<p>When once I’d dispatch’d my Affair with the Fair,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +By G<span class = "dash">——</span>d, you’d paid dear for +your Peeping.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Dec.</i> 1722.</p> + + +<h5>At the Red-Lion, Shrewsbury.</h5> + +<p>The Drawer, <i>Tom</i>, has scarce forgot,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Since I was here last <i>Easter</i>;</p> +<p>I broke his Head with the Pewter Pot,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And gave him not a Teaster.</p> +<p>But why, d’ye think, I serv’d him so?</p> +<p class = "inset"> +What Flesh alive could bear it?</p> +<p>I’d call’d a dozen Times, I trow,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Yet the Dog would bring no Claret.</p> +<p>This Discipline was not in vain,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +For h’as his Manners mended;</p> +<p>I’ve been here twenty Times since then,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And always well attended.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">3</span> +<span class = "folionum">B2</span> + +<h5>From a Window in Carlisle, the Sign forgot.</h5> + +<p>How says the Proverb, can it e’er be thought,</p> +<p>What’s bred i’th’ Bone can out o’the Flesh be brought:</p> +<p>Her Mother kiss’d with every one, and <i>Moll</i> does plainly shew +her;</p> +<p>For <i>Molly</i> kind is kiss’d by none, but only all that know +her.</p> + +<p class = "author">I. S. 1718.</p> + + +<h5>From another Pane in the same Place.</h5> + +<p>As dear <i>N<span class = "dash">——</span>y B<span class += "dash">——</span>k</i> look’d into the Street,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +From this Window where now I am musing,</p> +<p>I poop’d her behind, but no Body see’t,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And she prov’d ne’er the worse for my using.</p> + +<p class = "author">T. B.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>Ungrateful Wretch, thou’rt scarcely fit to live,</p> +<p>Much less such Favours worthy to receive.</p> +<p>A greater Curse than leading Apes in Hell,</p> +<p>The Fool deserves, that dares to kiss and tell.</p> + + +<h5>On the next Pane.</h5> + +<p>Dear Madam, pray dont let your Anger abound,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +For Faith what you’ve wrote has no Charm in’t;</p> +<p>You often have try’d me, and know I am sound,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Then prithee now where was the Harm in’t?</p> +<p>You did me a favour, I did you one too,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And, if I’m not mistaken, a greater;</p> +<p>I’ll swear I can’t love the Sport better than you,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +So pray say no more of the Matter.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">4</span> + +<h5>In a Bog-House, at the Bush at Carlisle, <em>1718</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset"> +Reader,</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Within this Place two Ways I’ve been delighted;</p> +<p>For here I’ve s<span class = "dash">——</span>, and +likewise here have sh<span class = "dash">——</span>d.</p> +<p>They both are healthful, Nature’s Ease require ’em</p> +<p>And though you grin, I fancy you desire ’em.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>What Beast alive, could bear to s<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p class = "inset"> +In such a filthy Hole as this is;</p> +<p>The nauseous Stink, might, one would think,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Disturb his Taste for amorous Kisses.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>This was wrote by some Beau, the Fop you may know,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +His squeamish Exception would make one believe it;</p> +<p>Though the Smell where we sh<span class = +"dash">——</span>t, is not grateful a Bit,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Yet I ne’er knew a C<span class = "dash">——</span>y that +favour’d of Civet.</p> + + +<h5>Oxon, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>Knowledge, thou Darling of the Soul,</p> +<p>Be thou my Help-Mate o’er a flowing Bowl;</p> +<p>Then will my Time slide easily along,</p> +<p>And ev’ry gen’rous Mortal grace our Song.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">5</span> + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +D<span class = "dash">——</span>n your Knowledge, says +Captain <i>Blunt</i>, swear, drink, and smoke, and you’re an honest +Fellow.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Feb.</i> 13, 1720.</p> + + +<h5>At the Devices, Wiltshire.</h5> + +<p><i>Peggy</i> came in with a smiling Face,</p> +<p>And every Feature had its Grace:</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Her Cheeks were blooming, as I’d wish to see;</p> +<p>Her something else above her Knee,</p> +<p>Fill’d all my Mind with Extasy;</p> +<p>And so we went to’t.</p> + +<p class = "author">L. T.</p> + + +<h5>Bath, on Harrison’s Windows.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +I kiss’d her standing,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +Kiss’d her lying,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Kiss’d her in Health,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +And kiss’d her dying;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And when she mounts <i>the Skies</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +I’ll kiss her flying.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "inset5">Well said, my Boy.</p> + +<p class = "author">R. S.</p> + + +<h5>Witney, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>Debauch’d by <i>Henry Rig</i>,</p> +<p>Who gave me a Jigg,</p> +<p>But not one Grigg:</p> +<p>Howe’er he ran his Rigg.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">6</span> +<p>But if ever I touch a Man again,</p> +<p>Unless in Matrimonial Chain,</p> +<p>I’ll rather suffer craving Pain,</p> +<p>I think; <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> Or take it once again.</p> +<p>For t’has set me a longing.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Anne S<span class = +"dash">——</span>te.</i></p> + + +<h5>At the same Place.</h5> + +<p>Give me the Lass who has a Taste of Love;</p> +<p>She I will kiss luxuriously, by <i>Jove</i>;</p> +<p>But when I meet a Woman’s cold Embrace,</p> +<p>She baulks my Love; and she may kiss my A<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>Oxon, Merton-College, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>Bright is my <i>Silvia</i>, when she’s drest;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +When naked, cloath’d with wond’rous Charms:</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Her Mein has oft my Heart opprest;</p> +<p>Her Nakedness I have possest;</p> +<p>And by the last I am distrest,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +By the Embraces of her Arms.</p> +<p>What can we Mortals say of Love?</p> +<p>Why? ’Tis the Pleasure of the Gods above:</p> +<p>But then, if Cl-ps proceed from Love,</p> +<p>How hot are all the Gods and Goddesses above!</p> +<p>A fine Reward, for Love for Love!</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose"> +Avoid the Thunder-Cl<span class = "hyphen">‑</span>ps, and +After-Cl<span class = "hyphen">‑</span>ps, says <i>Jove</i>.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">7</span> + +<h5 class = "long">A young Lady, who hang’d herself, left the following +Lines upon the Table.</h5> + +<p>O Death! thou pleasing End of human Woe!</p> +<p>Thou Cure of Life, thou best of Things below!</p> +<p>May’st thou for ever shun the Coward Slave,</p> +<p>And thy soft Slumbers only ease the Brave!</p> + + +<h5>At the Bull-Inn, at Ware.</h5> + +<h5>On Miss J<span class = "dash">——</span>s.</h5> + +<p>My Good or Ill in her alone is found,</p> +<p>And in that Thought all other Cares are drown’d.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>R. G<span class = +"dash">——</span>ll.</i></p> + + +<h5>Woodstock, in a Window.</h5> + +<p>Have you not in a Chimney seen</p> +<p>A sullen Faggot, wet and green,</p> +<p>How coyly it receives the Heat,</p> +<p>And at both Ends doth fume and sweat;</p> +<p>So fares it with the harmless Maid</p> +<p>When first upon her Back she’s laid.</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But the kind experienc’d Dame</p> +<p>Cracks and rejoices in the Flame.</p> + + +<h5>Merton-College, Oxon, in a Window.</h5> + +<h6>A new Reading about the three Children in the Fiery Furnace. From +the Hebrew.</h6> + +<p class = "first"> +<i>Shadrack</i>, <i>Mashac</i>, and <i>Abednego</i>:</p> +<p>If <i>Shadrac</i> had a Fever and Ague,</p> + +<p class = "inset2 first"> +Then read in <i>English</i>,</p> + +<p class = "first"> +<i>Shadrack may shake, and a bed may go.</i></p> + +<p class = "author">R. F.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">8</span> + +<h5>Star, at Coventry.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +What Lacing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Dressing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Moulding,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Scolding,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Painting,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Fainting,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Loving,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Shoving,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Cooing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Wooing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Crosses,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Tosses,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Actions,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Fractions,</p> +<p>Before the Day was done.</p> + + +<h5>Salisbury, on a Window.</h5> + +<p class = "inset"> +My Dear, like a Candle,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Lights every one’s Handle,</p> +<p>Yet loses no Bit of her own:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +She will piss, and she’ll kiss</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Until every one hiss,</p> +<p>And she better had stay’d at Home.</p> + +<p class = "inset3"> +As she lost nothing by it, she may still remain a Light to the +World.</p> + + +<h5>Anagram.</h5> + +<p>A Toast is like a Sot,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Or what is most</p> +<p>Comparable <span class = "dash">——</span> a Sot,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +<span class = "dash">——</span> Is like a Toast;</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">9</span> +<span class = "folionum">C</span> +<p>For When their Substance</p> +<p class = "inset"> +In the Liquor sink,</p> +<p>Both properly are said</p> +<p class = "inset"> +To be in Drink.</p> + + +<h5>Christ-Church, Oxon, in the Bog-House.</h5> + +<p>Calami hujus Etatis</p> +<p>Sunt hujus Etatis calamitates.</p> + + +<h5>Calais, at the Silver Lion.</h5> + +<p>At the Foot of a Bed where a Woman lay dying,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A Parcel of Gossips in Council were sat;</p> +<p>And instead of good Prayers, condoling and crying,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A <i>Thing</i> was the Subject of all the Debate.</p> +<p>One wish’d for a thick one, and swore ’twas the best,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Altho’ ’twere as short to the full as her Snout;</p> +<p>But a small One procur’d the Applause of the rest,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Provided in Length the Defect were made out.</p> +<p>Hold, quoth the sick Sister, you are all in the Wrong,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +So I’ll in a Case of this Weight to decide,</p> +<p>Heav’n send me at once both the Thick and the Long;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +So closing her pious Petition, she dy’d.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written on the pillory in a certain Market-Town in +Shropshire; on two Millers, named Bone and Skin, who exacted extravagant +Toll.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +Bone and Skin,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Two Millers thin,</p> +<p>Would grind this Town and Places near it:</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">10</span> +<p class = "inset2"> +But be it known</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +To Skin and Bone,</p> +<p>That Flesh and Blood won’t bear it.</p> + + +<h5>Richmond, Yorkshire, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>If Death doth come as soon as Breath departs;</p> +<p>Then he must often die, who often farts:</p> +<p>And if to die be but to lose one’s Breath;</p> +<p>Then Death’s a Fart, and so a Fart for Death.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">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.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +Heer is good Liker</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Ov awl Quinds toby sould,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And sevile Yewzitch.</p> + +<p class = "prose first"> +The Learned have examin’d the above Inscription: Some took it for +Gibberish; others for <i>Welch</i>; 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 <i>English</i>:</p> + +<p class = "inset2 first"> +Here is good Liquor</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Of all Kinds to be sold,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And civil Usage.</p> + +<p class = "prose first"> +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.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">11</span> +<span class = "folionum">C2</span> +<h5>Oxford, in a Window at Christ-Church.</h5> + +<p> +Anger may glance into the Breast of wise Men:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But it rests in the Bosom of Fools.</p> + + +<h5>From the Same Place.</h5> + +<p>True Friendship multiplies our Joys;</p> +<p>It mends our Griefs, and makes them light as Toys.</p> + + +<h5>From Queen’s-College, Oxon.</h5> + +<p>All that we know of what is done above,</p> +<p>Is, that the Blessed sing, and that they love.</p> + + +<h5>Rue de Boucharie.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +Amasser en Saison,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Dispenser par Raison,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Et vous aurez une bonne Maison.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at an Inn on the West Country Road.</h5> + +<p>The Cook, confound her, boil’d no Roots;</p> +<p>The Hostler never clean’d my Boots;</p> +<p>The Tapster too, would hardly stir;</p> +<p>The Drawer was a lazy Cur;</p> +<p>The Chamberlain had made no Bed;</p> +<p>The Host had Maggots in his Head:</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>But <i>Millicent</i>, who kept the Bar,</p> +<p>Was worse than all the rest by far;</p> +<p>She was as many others are.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">12</span> +<p>I kiss’d her till she had her Fill,</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>I thought it Love, and with her Will.</p> +<p>But then <span class = "dash">——</span> <span class = +"dash">——</span> <span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>She made a da<span class = "dash">——</span>n’d confounded +Bill.</p> + +<p class = "author">Captain R. T. 1718.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p align = "center">See the Bill Gentlemen.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Thrice was I reckon’d for my Meat;</p> +<p>Thrice was I reckon’d for Miss <i>Milly</i>’s treat;</p> +<p>Thrice was I reckon’d for my dirty Boots;</p> +<p>Thrice was I reckon’d for not having Roots;</p> +<p>Thrice was I reckon’d by the lazy Fellows;</p> +<p>And thrice I swore, I wish’d them at the Gallows;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And if I come here any more,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Then call me a Son of a Whore.</p> + +<p class = "author">R. T. 1718.</p> + + +<h5>Rue D’Auphine, at Paris.</h5> + +<p>O Quelle Grand Traison!</p> +<p>Les Couillions que je porte</p> +<p>Lors que leur Maître est en prison</p> +<p>Ces Gallans d’ausant a la porte.</p> + +<p class = "prose first"> +N. B. <i>This is not render’d into <em>English</em>, 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 in it.</i></p> + + +<h5>On a Window at the Ram, Newmarket.</h5> + +<p>Come hither, dearest, sweetest Turtle-Dove;</p> +<p>You are my Goddess.—You alone I love.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">13</span> +<p>At Night, whene’er I close my Eyes to Rest,</p> +<p>I dream of laying in your snow-white Breast.</p> +<p>But oft oppress’d with Grief and pensive Care,</p> +<p>I to enjoy such Happiness despair.</p> +<p>O wretched me! Celestial Pow’rs above!</p> +<p>O mighty Jove! what must I die for Love!</p> +<p>If you’re inclin’d to cure the Wound you gave,</p> +<p>Come quick, relieve, and save me from the Grave.</p> + + +<h5>Her Answer.</h5> + +<p>Unhappy Youth, pray trouble not your Mind,</p> +<p>By mighty <i>Jove</i>, I swear I will be kind.</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>I swear by <i>Venus</i>, and the Pow’rs above;</p> +<p>By <i>Cupid</i>’s Darts, and all the Joys of Love,</p> +<p>To thee my Youth, my Swain, I’ll ever constant prove.</p> + + +<h5>Bog-House at Epsom-Wells.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Privies are now Receptacles of Wit,</p> +<p>And every Fool that hither comes to sh<span class = +"dash">——</span>t,</p> +<p>Affects to write what other Fools have writ.</p> + + +<h5>Rain-Deer, Bishop-Stafford.</h5> + +<p>Hail charming Maid! hail my enchanting Fair,</p> +<p>Thy Beauty’s such, what Mortal can forbear?</p> +<p>Have Pity on a Youth’s despairing Cries,</p> +<p>Compassion shew, or else your Lover dies.</p> +<p>O that I but one good Enjoyment had!</p> +<p>Grant it me soon, or else I shall go mad.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">14</span> + +<h5>Her Answer.</h5> + +<p>Alas! poor Youth, if you go mad for Love,</p> +<p>Seek your Relief from mighty <i>Jove</i> above.</p> +<p>No Cure I have, my Body’s chaste and pure;</p> +<p>A wandering Youth I never can endure.</p> + + +<h5>Pancras-Wells.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3"> +I have had a Cl<span class = "hyphen">-</span>p,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +By a sad Mishap;</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +But the Doctor has cur’d it,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +And I’ve endur’d it.</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +The B<span class = "hyphen">-</span>ch that gave it me,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +She is gone over Sea.</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +G<span class = "hyphen">-</span>d d<span class = "hyphen">-</span>n her +A<span class = "hyphen">-</span>se,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +That fir’d my T<span class = "hyphen">-</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>Peacock, Northampton.</h5> + +<p>I love dear <i>Betty</i>, and <i>Betty</i> loves me;</p> +<p>And it shall not be long before marry’d we be.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>If you must make a Rhime upon your Lass,</p> +<p>I’ll make another<span class = "dash">——</span>Rhimer +kiss my A<span class = "hyphen">-</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>Boar’s-Head, Smithfield.</h5> + +<p>D<span class = "hyphen">-</span>n their Doublets, and confound their +Breeches,</p> +<p>There’s none besh<span class = "hyphen">-</span>t the Wall but Sons +of B<span class = "hyphen">-</span>ches.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">15</span> +<p>May the <i>French</i> P<span class = "hyphen">--</span>x, and the +D<span class = "hyphen">--</span>vil take ’em all,</p> +<p>That besh<span class = "hyphen">-</span>t their Fingers, and wipe +them on the Wall.</p> + + +<h5>Lambeth-Wells Bog-House.</h5> + +<h6>Supposed to be wrote by one who had a great Antipathy to +Tobacco.</h6> + +<p>This is a Place that’s very fitting,</p> +<p>To p<span class = "hyphen">--</span>ss, and f<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>rt, to smoke, and sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t +in.</p> + + +<h5>From a Window in a Great House in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields.</h5> + +<p>A good Wife is like a Turtle that bills and cooes, and turns up her +T<span class = "dash">——</span>l to her Husband.</p> + + +<h5>Kings-Head, Beaconsfield.</h5> + +<p>In Spring the Fields, in Autumn Hills, I love;</p> +<p>At Morn the Plains, at Noon the shady Grove;</p> +<p>But <i>Delia</i> always, forc’d from <i>Delia</i>’s Sight,</p> +<p>Nor Fields, nor Hills, nor Plains, nor Groves delight.</p> + + +<h5>At the same Place, 1731.</h5> + +<p>Love in Fashion, is Copulation.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Le H<span class = +"dash">——</span>p.</i></p> + + +<h5>At the same Place.</h5> + +<p>The Brave and Wise would never hug</p> +<p>The chearful Bottle and the Jug,</p> +<p>Were not good Liquor in its Season,</p> +<p>An useful Spur to human Reason.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Probatum est</i>, W. T.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">16</span> + +<h5>At Rumford, in a Window.</h5> + +<p>There’s Nothing sure can vex a Woman more</p> +<p>Than to hear the Feats of Love, and be Threescore.</p> + + +<h5>Written on a Looking-Glass, in the Rue Boucharie, Paris.</h5> + +<p>Le Mond est plein de fous, & qui n’en veut point voir,</p> +<p>Doit demeurer tout seul, & casser son meroir.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +The World is full of Fools and Asses,</p> +<p>To see them not<span class = "dash">——</span> retire and +break your Glasses.</p> + + +<h5>Oxon, in a Bog-House.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +With such violent Rage,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Sir <i>John</i> did engage</p> +<p>With the Damsel which he laid his Leg on,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +That his Squire, who stood near,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Swore it look’d like the Spear</p> +<p>Of St. <i>George</i> in the Mouth of the Dragon.</p> + + +<h5>On a Drinking-Glass.</h5> + +<p>Guard well your Credit, for ’tis quickly gone:</p> +<p>’Tis gain’d by many Actions, lost by one.</p> + + +<h5>At York, in a Window.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>When Mr. <i>H<span class = "dash">——</span></i> was +chosen Mayor,</p> +<p>We thought our Peace stood very fair,</p> +<p>And hollow’d when he took the Chair.</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>But see how Mortals may prove civil,</p> +<p>They change their State from Good to Evil:</p> +<p>Set a Beggar on Horseback, he’ll ride to the Devil.</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +And so it prov’d.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">17</span> +<span class = "folionum">D</span> +<h5>From a Window in Yorkshire.</h5> + +<p>Sir <span class = "dash">——</span> was chosen our +Recorder,</p> +<p>Hoping he’d put our Wrongs in Order:</p> +<p>But, in Truth, the young Gentleman prov’d such a Rake,</p> +<p>That he kiss’d all our Wives, and made all our Heads ake.</p> + + +<h5>Uxbridge, the Crown.</h5> + +<p><i>Puns</i> have two evil Ends:</p> +<p>Sometimes they gain us Foes,</p> +<p>Sometimes they make us lose</p> +<p class = "inset6">our Friends.</p> + + +<h5>At Epping, in a Window.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>What care I, to acknowledge my Lord was my Father?</p> +<p>To inherit his Fortune and Weakness together;</p> +<p>If a Porter had got me with Health, I’d much rather.</p> + + +<h5>Rebus on Miss Jane Mar-tin.</h5> + +<p>To <i>spoil</i> the <i>Cornish Ore</i>,</p> +<p>Names the <ins class = "correction" +title = "text reads ‘Npmph’">Nymph</ins> that I adore.</p> + + +<h5>Rebus on Miss Bell-a-dine.</h5> + +<p>What in a Steeple bears a Sound?</p> +<p>What in the Horn-Book first is found;</p> +<p>And eat the Meal of glorious Noon;</p> +<p>Give me, Great <i>Jove</i>, this Lady soon,</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">18</span> +<p>Whose Name the first three Lines explain:</p> +<p>Her Love’s my Life, my Death is her Disdain.</p> + + +<h5>On Miss Hatt-on.</h5> + +<p>The Pride of Quaker <i>John</i></p> +<p>Names the Nymph I dote upon.</p> + + +<h5>Miss Willson.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>What e’er a Woman wishes most,</p> +<p>And that which marry’d People boast,</p> +<p>Speaks the dear Charmer, who’s my Toast.</p> + + +<h5>Miss Hutch-in-son.</h5> + +<p>The Place were Rabbits are confin’d,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The Place where Strangers are refresh’d;</p> +<p>And what best pleas’d my Mother’s Mind,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Tells you the Charmer of my Breast.</p> + + +<h5>Miss Shuttle-worth.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>What a Weaver will toss about all the Day long,</p> +<p>And a Value, whose Praise can’t be nam’d in my Song,</p> +<p>Tells the Name of my Charmer who’s witty and young.</p> + + +<h5>Miss Weathers.</h5> + +<p>Tell me her Name, whose Looks serene</p> +<p>Shew her a Goddess, or a Queen;</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Who, if in turbulent Disguise,</p> +<p>Will make you shudder at her Eyes:</p> +<p>For <i>her</i>, all others I despise.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">19</span> +<span class = "folionum">D2</span> + +<h5>Rebus on Miss Sukey Dart.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Her Name has pierc’d my Heart,</p> +<p>And so we’ll never part;</p> +<p>With her I ne’er can feel a Smart.</p> + + +<h5>Crown at Harlow.</h5> + +<p>Death and Marriage are by Destiny,</p> +<p>And both these Things become a Maiden’s Fee.</p> +<p>Whether they die between a Pair of Sheets,</p> +<p>Or live to marry, they will lose their Wits;</p> +<p>So is it destin’d by the Gods above,</p> +<p>They’ll live and die by what <i>they</i> love.</p> + +<p class = "author">R. T. 1721.</p> + + +<h5>York, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>What signifies your chattering, dearest <i>Nancy</i>,</p> +<p>And swearing d<span class = "hyphen">-</span>n your Blood, to please +your Fancy;</p> +<p>For if your Scruples find that one won’t do,</p> +<p>Z<span class = "dash">——</span>ds, cock, and prime, and +then take two.</p> + +<p class = "author">Captain J. F. 1729.</p> + + +<h5>Uxbridge, <em>1719</em>.</h5> + +<p>Various Religions, several Tenets hold;</p> +<p>Yet all one God acknowledge, which is <i>Gold</i>.</p> + + +<h5>Chester, in a Window, <em>1726</em>.</h5> + +<p>A Fox was drawn in for Cakes and Ale,</p> +<p>And by a fly Stratagem lost his Tail.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part3">20</span> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>’Tis no Matter, says <i>Reynard</i>, by Dint of Persuasion,</p> +<p>I’ll make all my Brethren believe ’tis the Fashion,</p> +<p>Though at the same Time, he was in a d<span class = +"dash">——</span>d Passion.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p><span class = "dash">——</span>Although they all come +in,</p> +<p>There’s none can laugh, but those that win.</p> +<p>New Fashions are Gins that I mortally hate;</p> +<p>I’ll keep my old Fashion, and keep my Estate.</p> +<p class = "inset4"> +No coaxing, no wheedling, good Mr. Fox.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>Recruiting Officer.</i></p> + +<p class = "first"> +Getting is a Chance; but keeping is a Virtue.</p> + + +<h5>Devil-Tavern, <em>1721</em>.</h5> + +<p>Whene’er a Man has gain’d his Ends,</p> +<p>He is encompass’d by his Friends;</p> +<p>But when that Man has lost his All,</p> +<p>And wants his Friends, he’as none at all.</p> + +<span class = "bracket first"> </span> +<p class = "first"> +In gay Prosperity we see,</p> +<p>That ev’ry one will bend the Knee,</p> +<p>And treat you with their Flattery;</p> +<span class = "bracket tall"> </span> +<p>But in a contrary State,</p> +<p>When Gaiety’s destroy’d by Fate,</p> +<p>The Man they lov’d before,</p> +<p><span class = +"dash">————————</span> +They hate.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">In a Bog-House over the Water, at the Spread-Eagle in +Bunny in Nottinghamshire.</h5> + +<p>The nicest Maid, with the whitest Rump,</p> +<p>May sit and sh<span class = "dash">——</span>te, and hear +it plump.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">21</span> + +<h5>On a Glass Window in the same Place.</h5> + +<p>For what did <i>Venus</i> love <i>Adonis</i>,</p> +<p>But for the Gristle, where no Bone is?</p> + + +<h5>In a Bog-House at the Nag’s-Head in Bradmere.</h5> + +<p>The greatest Monarch, when a fighting,</p> +<p>Looks not so great as I, when sh<span class = +"dash">——</span>ting.</p> + + +<h5>In the same Place.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +Such Places as these,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Were made for the Ease</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Of every Fellow in common;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +But a Person who writes</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +On the Wall as he sh<span class = "dash">——</span>tes,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Has a Pleasure far greater than Woman.</p> +<p>For he’s eas’d in his Body, and pleas’d in his Mind,</p> +<p>When he leaves both a T<span class = "dash">——</span>d +and some Verses behind.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>You are eas’d in your Body, and pleas’d in your Mind,</p> +<p>That you leave both a T<span class = "dash">——</span>d +and some Verses behind;</p> +<p>But to me, which is worst, I can’t tell, on my Word,</p> +<p>The reading your Verses, or smelling your T<span class = +"dash">——</span>d.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">22</span> + +<h5>From a Church Door.</h5> + +<h6>On an Eminent Physician’s being called out of Church.</h6> + +<p>Whilst holy Prayers to Heaven were made,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +One soon was heard, and answer’d too,</p> +<p><i>Save us from sudden Death</i>, <ins class = "correction" title = +"text reads ‘wa ssaid’">was said</ins>,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And strait from Church Sir <i>H<span class = +"dash">——</span></i> withdrew.</p> + + +<h5>From the Four Swans at Uxbridge.</h5> + +<p>There’s none but the Vicious, or the Base,</p> +<p>That false Reports can trouble or disgrace:</p> +<p>The virtuous Man must ever stand secure</p> +<p>’Gainst all the Lies which Falsehood can procure:</p> +<p>For a sound Mind or Conscience gives a Peace,</p> +<p>Which to Eternity can never cease.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>E. K.</i></p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p class = "prose">D<span class = "dash">——</span>n your +conscientious Rascals; there’s so few of them in this Age, that a Man +appears singular who is govern’d thereby.</p> + +<p class = "author">Capt. <i>T. R.</i> 1730.</p> + + +<h5>Rumford, on a Window.</h5> + +<p>How shall the Man e’er turn to dust</p> +<p>Who daily wets his Clay.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p class = "inset3">In Dust he may fly</p> +<p class = "inset3">As Fools gallop by,</p> +<p class = "inset3">And no body can say Nay.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">23</span> + +<h5 class = "long"><a name = "song" id = "song"> +The galloping Song, from Newmarket, in the Compass of the +Flute.</a></h5> + +<p>Buxom <i>Joan</i> got on a bald Mare;</p> +<p>she rid ramping on to The Fair, with a Whip and Spur.</p> +<p>Such jogging, such flogging,</p> +<p>Such splashing, such dashing,</p> +<p class = "inset">was ne’er seen there.</p> +<p>Jolly <i>Tom</i>, cry’d out as she Come,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +thou Monkey Face, <!--mid-para break--> +<span class = "pagenum part3">24</span> +Punkey Face,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +lousey Face, Frouzey Face,</p> +<p> +hold thy Hand, Make a Stand, thou’lt be down.</p> +<p>No Sooner <i>Tom.</i> spoke, but Down comes <i>Joan</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +with her Head and Bum up and down,</p> +<p>So that her A<span class = "dash">——</span>se was +shown.</p> +<p>Bald Mare ran galloping all the Way home.</p> + +</div> + +<p class = "illustration"> +<img src = "images/pic3_24.png" width = "458" height = "370" +alt = "music" title = "The Galloping Song"> +</p> + +<div class = "mynote"> + +<p align = "center">MIDI file: <a href = +"files/pianogallop.midi">default</a> (piano)<br> +MIDI file: <a href = "files/harpsigallop.midi">harpsichord</a></p> + +<p><i>Depending on your browser, these files may open directly or may +need to be downloaded.</i></p> + +<p>The “E” in “hold thy Hand” has been rendered as E natural rather than +E flat, and a few durations were adjusted to fit the meter.</p> + +<p align = "center"><a href = "images/galloping.png">Galloping Song</a> +(redrawn)</p> + +</div> + +<div class = "poem"> + +<span class = "pagenum part3">25</span> + +<h5>Temple, in a Gentleman’s Chambers.</h5> + +<p>When <i>Phillis</i> wore her brightest Face,</p> +<p>All Men rejoic’d in every Grace:</p> +<p>Her Patch, her Mein, her Forward Chin,</p> +<p>Cry’d, Gentlemen, Pray who’ll come in:</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>But now her Wrinkles are come on her,</p> +<p>All Men who ever were upon her,</p> +<p>Cry out, a Fart upon her Honour.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>C. M.</i></p> + + +<h5>On a Wall, at a School in Norwich. In Dog Latin.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>J. Jackson</i> currit <i>plenum sed</i></p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Et læsit meum <i>magnum ad</i>.</p> + +<p class = "author"><i>R. L.</i></p> + +<h5>The English Translation, Word for Word.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>J. Jackson</i> run <i>full-butt</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And hurt my <i>Great Toe</i>.</p> + + +<h5>Written on the Door of two celebrated Milliners.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +Within this Place</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Lives <i>Minerva</i> and <i>Grace</i>,</p> +<p>An Angel hangs out at the Door;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +If you rise in the Night,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And call for a Light,</p> +<p>Then presently down comes a Wh<span class = +"dash">——</span>.</p> + + +<h5>Angel, at Marlborough. Upon Miss M<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>k.</h5> + +<p>Her Step delivers those her Eyes enslave,</p> +<p>She looks to conquer, but she treads to save.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part3">26</span> + +<h5>From a Window at Kidderminster, Worcestershire.</h5> + +<h6>A Scrap of a Lady’s Life.</h6> + +<p>When first she wakes, a Sigh or two she fetches,</p> +<p>Then rubs her Eyes,<span class = "dash">——</span>and Arms +and Legs she stretches!</p> +<p>Oh! for a Husband, out she gently cries,</p> +<p>If he were here,<span class = "dash">——</span>he would +not let me rise;</p> +<p>But I must up, for Fear my Love should stay,</p> +<p>And we should be too late at the new Play.</p> +<p>Here, <i>Jenny</i>, reach my Slippers, bring the Pot;</p> +<p>Then out she jumps, and down she gives a Squat,</p> +<p>I think I need not tell you what to do,</p> +<p>And then she lets a merry Crack or two.</p> + +<p class = "author">W. Overb<span class = "hyphen">--</span>ry.</p> + + +<h5>Bog-House at Ludlow.</h5> + +<p>Two pitiful Dukes at our Race did appear;</p> +<p>One bespoke him a Girl, the other new Geer,</p> +<p>And both went away without paying I hear,</p> +<p>For the Cheat lov’d his Money, and so did the Peer.</p> + + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>You Rogue, Taylor shan’t catch me, while your Legs they are +cross’d.</p> +<p>Don’t cry, my dear Girl, since you have got more than you lost.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<h4 class = "extended"><i>FINIS.</i></h4> + +</div> + +<hr> + +<a name = "partIV" id = "partIV"> </a> +<div class = "title"> + +<h5>THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT:</h2> + +<h5>OR, THE</h5> + +<h4>Glaſs-Window and Bog-Houſe</h4> + +<h4 class = "smallcaps extended">Miscellany.</h4> + +<h6>Taken from</h6> + +<p class = "hanging"> +The Original Manuscripts written in <i>Diamond</i> by Persons of the +first Rank and Figure in <i>Great Britain</i>; relating to Love, +Matrimony, Drunkenness, Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, +and many other Subjects, <i>Serious</i> and <i>Comical</i>.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "hanging"> +Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and +Windows in the several noted <i>Taverns</i>, <i>Inns</i>, and +other <i>Publick Places</i> in this Nation.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><i>Published by</i> <span class = "extended">HURLO +THRUMB</span>O.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum,<br> +Gameyorum a Gamy,<br> +Flumarum a Flumarum,<br> +A Rigdum Bollarum<br> +A Rigdum, for a little Gamey.</i></p> + +<p class = "inset5"> +<ins class = "correction" title = +"spelling unchanged">Bethleham</ins>-Wall, Moor-Fields.</p> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5><span class = "extended">PART</span> IV.</h5> + +<hr class = "full"> + +<h5 class = "extended"><i>LONDON:</i></h5> + +<h5>Printed for <span class = "smallcaps extended">J. Roberts</span> in +<i>Warwick-Lane</i>; and Sold by the Booksellers in Town and Country. + [Price 6 <i>d.</i>]</h5> + +</div> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<hr> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<p class = "hanging"> +<i>N. B.</i> There being a great Number of these Pieces of Wit and +Humour at most Places of publick Resort in this Kingdom, it is hoped +that all, who are pleased with, or willing to promote this Design, will +be so good as to collect and send them to the Publisher hereof. The +Editor does not care how merry they are, provided they are not +obscene.</p> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<span class = "pagenum part4">3</span> +<span class = "folionum">B2</span> + +<h5 class = "extended">THE</h5> + +<h2>MERRY-THOUGHT.</h2> + +<h4><span class = "extended">PART</span> IV.</h4> + + +<p class = "space"><i>Mr.</i> <span class = "smallcaps">Bog</span>,</p> + +<p> +<span class = "firstword"><span class = "fourlines">W</span>here</span> +Wit and Learning (as at present in this our Isle) so much abound, great +Marvel it is to me, That so worthy a Compiler of other Men’s Labours as +yourself, should be put to the little mean Shifts of copying from such +<i>Cacascriptores</i>, who have from <i>Hudibras</i>, <i>Tom Brown</i>, +and others of the like Rank, their little Bits and Scraps, basely +purloined, whereby you run a Risque of being deem’d yourself a Plagiary: +Nor is it less unbecoming the Dignity and Fidelity of your Undertaking, +to supply the Want of Application and Diligence, by filling up your +lifeless Pages with Musical Punctations, as vile and unrelishing as ever +echo’d from your own natural Bagpipe. Therefore, that you may the better +be enabled these Indecencies equally to avoid, I send you the +following <i>Collectanea Nasutula</i>: If you honour them, I shall +honour your next Performance; if not, <i>Non cuicunque datum est habere +nasum</i>.</p> + +<p> <br> </p> + +<div class = "poem"> + +<span class = "pagenum part4">4</span> + +<h5>From a Boghouse near <em>Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields</em>.</h5> + +<h5>The <em><span class = "extended">WIS</span>H</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset"> +Oh! may our Senate, learn’d and great,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +(In order to perpetuate</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The tuneful Strains and witty Flights,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Of him that Studies while he sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>ts)</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Decree all Landlords, thro’ the Nation,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation<ins class = "correction" title = +"close parenthesis missing">) </ins></p> +<p class = "inset"> +In some meet Corner of their Dark Hole</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A cuspidated Piece of Charcoal;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Or, where the Walls are cas’d with Wainscot,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A Piece of Chalk with equal Pains cut;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That those who labour at both Ends,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +To ease themselves, and serve their Friends,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +May not, reluctant, go from Sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And leave no Relict of their Wit,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +For want of necessary Tools</p> +<p class = "inset"> +To impart the <i>Proles</i> of their Stools:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Then <i>Cibber</i>’s Odes, and <i>Tindal</i>’s Sense,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Caleb</i> and <i>Henley</i>’s Eloquence,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Woolston</i>, and all such learned Sophi’s,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Would be cut down in House-of-Office:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Oxford</i> and <i>Cambridge</i> too would join</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Their Puns, to make the Boghouse shine</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Each learn’d Society would try all</p> +<p class = "inset"> +(From lowest Club, to that call’d Royal<ins class = "correction" title = +"close parenthesis missing">,) </ins></p> +<p class = "inset"> +To furnish something might improve</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Religion, Politicks, or Love:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Grand <i>Keyber</i>, Gormogons, Free Masons,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And <i>Heydeger</i>, with all his gay Sons,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Would find to suit, with Lectures there,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Their Intellectuals to a Hair:</p> +<p><i>Bodens</i> might pick up Wit from thence, and lay</p> +<p>The <i>Drama</i> of another Modish Play.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">5</span> +<p>So wise a Law would doubtless tend</p> +<p>To prove our Senate, Learning’s Friend;</p> +<p>Whilst Trade, and such like fond Chimeras,</p> +<p>Might wait more fit and leisure <i>Æra’s.</i></p> + + +<h5>From a Window at the <em>Dolphin</em> Inn in +<em>Southampton</em>.</h5> + +<p>The Wedding-Night past, says Sir <i>John</i> to his Mate,</p> +<p>Faith Madam I’m bit (tho’ I find it too late)</p> +<p>By your d<span class = "hyphen">---</span>n’d little Mouth, or else +I’m a Whore’s Son,</p> +<p>For the Cross underneath’s quite out of Proportion.</p> +<p>Good Sir <i>John</i>, says my Lady, then under the Rose,</p> +<p>I’m as bad bit as you, by your plaguy long Nose:</p> +<p>You have not by half so much as I wanted,</p> +<p>I’ve more than you want, yet y’are not contented.</p> + + +<h5>From the Playhouse Boghouse.</h5> + +<p>Good Folks, sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t and write, and mend +honest Bog’s Trade,</p> +<p>For when you sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t Rhymes, you help him +to Bread:</p> +<p><ins class = "correction" title = "spelling unchanged">He’el</ins> +feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind,</p> +<p>And fatten on what you here leave behind.</p> + + +<h5>From A Boghouse at the <em>White Hart</em>, Petersfield.</h5> + +<p>Were this Place to be view’d by a Herald of Note,</p> +<p>He would find a new Charge for the next new-bought Coat,</p> +<p>Which <i>Guillim</i> ne’er thought of, nor one of the Herd,</p> +<p><i>Viz.</i> a Wall erect Argent, <i>Gutte de T<span class = +"dash">——</span>d.</i></p> +<p>And as a Reward, for improving the Art,</p> +<p>He should bear on a Fess (if he paints it) a F<span class = +"hyphen">---</span>t.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">6</span> + +<h5>Underwritten.</h5> + +<p>A Pox on your writing, I thought you were sh<span class = +"hyphen">----</span>g,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +My great Gut has giv’n me such Twitches:</p> +<p>Had you scribled much more, I’m a Son of a Whore,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +If I should not have don’t in my Breeches.</p> + + +<h5>From the <em>White Lyon</em>, <em>Bristol</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset"> +I’m witty, I’ll Write,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +I’m valiant, I’ll Fight,</p> +<p>And take all that’s said in my own Sense:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +In Liquor I’m sunk,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And confoundedly drunk,</p> +<p>So there is the Source of this Nonsense.</p> + + +<h5>From the same Place.</h5> + +<p>A Wretch, whom Fortune has been pleas’d to rowl</p> +<p>From the Tip-top of her enchanted Bowl,</p> +<p>Sate musing on his Fate, but could not guess,</p> +<p>Nor give a Reason for her Fickleness:</p> +<p>Such Thoughts as these would ne’er his Brain perplex,</p> +<p>Did he but once reflect upon her Sex:</p> +<p>For how could he expect, or hope to see,</p> +<p>In Woman either Truth or Constancy.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written on the Wall of one of the Summer-Houses in +<em>Gray’s-Inn</em> Walks, under a curious Piece of Drawing.</h5> + +<p>Come hither, Heralds, view this Coat,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +’Twill bear Examination,</p> +<p>’Tis ancient, and derives its Note</p> +<p class = "inset"> +From the first Pair’s Creation.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">7</span> +<p>The Field is <i>Luna</i>, <i>Mars</i> a Pale,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Within an Orle of <i>Saturn</i>;</p> +<p>Charg’d with two Pellets at the Tail:</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Pray take it for a Pattern.</p> + + +<h5>Under-written.</h5> + +<p>I don’t see your <i>Luna</i>, nor <i>Saturn</i>, nor <i>Mars</i>,</p> +<p>But I see her <span class = "dash">——</span> plain, and I +see his bare A<span class = "hyphen">--</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>From another Place in the same Walks.</h5> + +<p>Could fairest dear <i>Eliza</i> know how much I love,</p> +<p>My Story might, at least, her gen’rous Pity move;</p> +<p>Her Pity’s all my Hope, nor durst I more implore,</p> +<p>With that I still might live, and still her Charms adore.</p> + + +<h5>Under-written.</h5> + +<p>Poor Wretch, alas! I pity Thee with all my heart,</p> +<p>Since that, it seems, alone will cure thy Love-sick Smart:</p> +<p>For he that has not Courage further to implore,</p> +<p>May surely have our Pity, but deserves no more.</p> + + +<h5>From a <em>Bog-House</em> at the <em>George-Inn</em> in +<em>Whitchurch</em>.</h5> + +<p>From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit,</p> +<p>From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>t.</p> +<p>From Walls besmear’d with stinking Ordure,</p> +<p>By Swine who <ins class = "correction" +title = "spelling unchanged">nee’r</ins> provide Bumfodder</p> + +<p class = "inset6"><i>Libera Nos</i> <span class = +"dash">——</span></p> + + +<h5>Upon a Pillar at the <em>Royal-Exchange</em>.</h5> + +<p>This City is a World that’s full of Streets,</p> +<p>And Death’s the Market-Place where Mankind meets;</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">8</span> +<p>If Life were Merchandize, that Men could buy,</p> +<p>The Rich would only live, the Poor must die.</p> + + +<h5>In the Window of a <em>Green-House</em> near +<em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>Sitting on yon Bank of Grass,</p> +<p>With a blooming buxom Lass;</p> +<p>Warm with Love, and with the Day,</p> +<p>We to cool us went to play.</p> +<p>Soon the <i>am’rous</i> Fever fled,</p> +<p>But left a worse <i>Fire</i> in its Stead.</p> +<p>Alas! that <i>Love</i> should cause such Ills!</p> +<p>As doom to <i>Diet-Drink</i> and <i>Pills</i>.</p> + + +<h5>An Encomium on a <em>Fart</em>.</h5> + +<p>I sing the Praises of a <i>Fart</i>.</p> +<p>That I may do’t by Rules of <i>Art</i>.</p> +<p>I will invoke no <i>Deity</i>,</p> +<p>But <i>Butter’d-Pease</i> and <i>Furmity</i>;</p> +<p>And think their Help sufficient</p> +<p>To sit and furnish my Intent:</p> +<p>For sure I must not use <i>high Strains</i>,</p> +<p>For fear it bluster out in <i>Grains</i>.</p> +<p>When <i>Virgil</i>’s <i>Gnat</i>, and <i>Ovid</i>’s <i>Flea</i>,</p> +<p>And <i>Homer</i>’s <i>Frogs</i> strive for the Day;</p> +<p>There is no Reason in my Mind,</p> +<p>That a brave <i>Fart</i> should come <i>behind</i>:</p> +<p>Since that you may it <i>parallel</i>,</p> +<p>With any Thing that doth <i>excel</i>.</p> +<p><i>Musick</i> is but a <i>Fart</i> that’s sent</p> +<p>From the <i>Guts</i> of an <i>Instrument</i>:</p> +<p>The Scholar <i>farts</i>; but when he gains</p> +<p>Learning with <i>cracking</i> of his Brains;</p> +<p>And having spent much Pain and Oil,</p> +<p><i>Thomas</i> and <i>Dun</i> to reconcile,</p> +<p>For to learn the abstracting <i>Art</i>,</p> +<p>What does he get by’t? Not a <i>Fart</i>.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">9</span> +<span class = "folionum">B</span> +<p>The Soldier makes his Foes to run</p> +<p>With but the <i>Farting</i> of a Gun;</p> +<p>That’s if he make the <i>Bullet whistle</i>,</p> +<p>Else ’tis no better than a <i>Fizzle</i>:</p> +<p>And if withal the Winds do stir-up</p> +<p>Rain, ’tis but a <i>Fart</i> in Syrrup.</p> +<p>They are but <i>Farts</i>, the <i>Words</i> we say,</p> +<p>Words are but <i>Wind</i>, and so are they.</p> +<p>Applause is but a <i>Fart</i>, the crude</p> +<p><i>Blast</i> of the fickle Multitude.</p> +<p>The Boats that lie the <i>Thames</i> about,</p> +<p>Be but <i>Farts</i> several Docks let out.</p> +<p>Some of our <i>Projects</i> were, I think,</p> +<p>But politick <i>Farts</i>, <i>Foh! how they stink</i>!</p> +<p>As soon as born, they by-and-by,</p> +<p><i>Fart-like</i>, but only breathe, and die.</p> +<p><i>Farts</i> are as good as <i>Land</i>, for both</p> +<p>We hold <i>in Tail</i>, and <i>let</i> them both:</p> +<p>Only the Difference here is, that</p> +<p><i>Farts</i> are <i>let</i> at a lower <i>Rate</i>.</p> +<p>I’ll say no more, for this is right,</p> +<p>That for my <i>Guts</i> I cannot write;</p> +<p>Though I should study all my Days,</p> +<p>Rhimes that are worth the Thing I praise:</p> +<p>What I have said, take in good Part,</p> +<p>If not, I do not care a <i>Fart</i>.</p> + + +<h5>Written in Chalk under the <em>George-Inn</em> Sign at +<em>Farnham</em>.</h5> + +<p>St. <i>George</i> to save a <i>Maid</i>, a <i>Dragon</i> slew,</p> +<p>A gallant Action, grant the Thing be true.</p> +<p>Yet some say there’s no <i>Dragons</i>.<span class = +"dash">——</span>Nay, tis said,</p> +<p>There’s no <i>St. George</i><span class = +"dash">——</span>Pray Heav’n there be a <i>Maid</i>.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">10</span> + +<h5 class = "long">In the Window of a fine <em>Assembly-Room</em> on a +vast Appearance at its Opening.</h5> + +<p>The Novelty this Crowd invites,</p> +<p>’Tis strange, and therefore it delights;</p> +<p>For Folks Things eagerly pursue,</p> +<p>Not that they’re good, but that they’re new.</p> +<p>Pleasure must vary, or must cease,</p> +<p>We tire of Bliss, grow sick of Ease.</p> +<p>And if the Year we’re doom’d to Play,</p> +<p>To Work would be a Holiday.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Over the Gate of <em>Redgrave Hall</em>, on a Visit +made by Queen <em>Elizabeth</em> to Sir <em>Nicholas Bacon</em>, then +Lord Keeper.</h5> + +<p>When great <span class = "smallcaps">Eliza</span> saw at +<i>Redgrave-Hall</i>,</p> +<p>The Apartments <i>few</i>, and those indeed but <i>small</i>,</p> +<p>Thus to its <i>Lord</i>, bespoke the gracious <span class = +"smallcaps">Queen</span>;</p> +<p>Methinks for <i>you</i>, this <i>Mansion</i> is too <i>mean</i>.</p> +<p><i>For me, my Liege</i>, quoth he, <i>of old ’twas meet,</i></p> +<p><i>But </i>you<i> have made </i>me<i> for my </i>House—too +great.</p> + + +<h5>Written by Sir <em>Thomas Moor</em>.</h5> + +<p>At last I’ve found a <i>Haven</i> where,</p> +<p>I’ll ride secure from <i>Hope</i> or <i>Fear</i>.</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Thy Game is, <i>Fortune</i>, o’er with me,</p> +<p>And thou to others now may’st <i>flee</i></p> +<p>To cheat them with <i>Inconstancy</i>.</p> + + +<h5>The Nature of Women: From a <em>Summer-House</em> near +<em>Richmond</em>.</h5> + +<p>Fair and foolish, little and loud,</p> +<p>Long and lazy, black and proud;</p> +<p>Fat and merry, lean and sad,</p> +<p>Pale and peevish, red and bad.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">11</span> +<span class = "folionum">B2</span> + +<h5>The Nature of Men from the same.</h5> + +<p>To a Red Man read thy Read;</p> +<p>To a Brown Man break thy Bread;</p> +<p>At a Pale Man draw thy Knife;</p> +<p>From a Black Man keep thy Wife.</p> + + +<h5>In a Chamber Window in <em>Queen’s College, Cambridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>Our <i>Bodies</i> are like <i>Shoes</i>, which oft we +<i>cast</i>,</p> +<p><i>Physick</i> the <i>Cobler</i> is, and <i>Death</i> the +<i>Last</i>.</p> + + +<h5>On a Tomb.</h5> + +<p>Here, in their last Bed,</p> +<p>The loving <i>Alice</i> rests with her Love <i>Ned</i>.</p> + +<h5>Underwritten by a <em>Cambridge</em> Schollar.</h5> + +<p><i>Viator siste! ecce miraculum!</i></p> +<p><i>Vir & Uxor, hic non litigant.</i></p> + +<h5>Which in <em>English</em> may stand thus.</h5> + +<p>Behold a Bed, where, without Strife,</p> +<p>There rests a Man, and eke his Wife.</p> + + +<h5>Tom of <em>Bedlam</em>’s Sentiments on Marriage.</h5> + +<p>One ask’d a Madman, if a Wife he had,</p> +<p>A Wife! quoth he.<span class = "dash">——</span>No!<span +class = "dash">——</span>I’m not quite so mad.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">12</span> + +<h5 class = "long">In the Vaults belonging to Trinity College, +<em>Cambridge</em>, there is cut the Form of a Tobacco-Box, with this +Inscription:</h5> + +<p align = "center"> +Pandora’s Treasure.</p> + +<h5>Underneath,</h5> + +<p>Tobacco, that outlandish Weed,</p> +<p>It dries the Brain, and spoils the Seed;</p> +<p>It dulls the Spirit, it dims the Sight,</p> +<p>It robs a Woman of her Right.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">An Epitaph on a Wicked Man’s Tomb. Written by Doctor +<em>Wild</em> the famous Non-Conformist Minister.</h5> + +<p>Beneath this Stone there lies a cursed Sinner,</p> +<p>Doom’d to be roasted for the Devil’s Dinner.</p> + + +<h5>In the Vaults at <em>Chelsea</em>, and in an hundred other +Places.</h5> + +<p>When the Devil was sick, the Devil a Monk would be,</p> +<p>When the Devil was well, the Devil a Monk was he.</p> + + +<h5>Sir <em>Walter Raleigh</em> on the Snuff of a Candle the Night +before he died.</h5> + +<p>Cowards fear to die, but Courage stout,</p> +<p>Rather than live in Snuff, will put it out.</p> + + +<h5>On Marriage: In a Window at <em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>If ’tis to marry when the Knot is ty’d,</p> +<p>Why then they marry, who at <i>Tyburn</i> ride.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">13</span> +<p>And if that Knot, ’till Death, is loos’d by none,</p> +<p>Why then to marry, and be hang’d’s all one.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window in a Public-House, near <em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3"> +Sing High Ding a Ding,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +And Ho Ding a Ding,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +I’m finely brought to Bed;</p> +<p>My Lord has stole that troublesome Thing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +That Folks call a Maidenhead.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>Jane Hughs</i> eighteen Years of Age.</p> + + +<h5>A little below it, in the same Window.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3"> +Then sing High Ding a Ding,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +And Ho Ding a Ding,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +You’re finely brought to Bed;</p> +<p>For something you’ve got for that troublesome Thing,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A Cl—p for a Maidenhead.</p> + +<p class = "author"> +<i>By my Lord’s Gentleman.</i></p> + + +<h5>Written in the first Leaf of <em>Arbor Vitæ</em>.</h5> + +<p>Two D<span class = "hyphen">---</span>s, and a Doctor, ’tis said, +wrote this Piece,</p> +<p>Who were modest as Whores, and witty as Geese.</p> +<p>They penn’d it, it seems, to shew their great Parts,</p> +<p>Their Skill in Burlesque, and their Knowledge in Arts</p> +<p>But what say the Town<span class = "dash">——</span>that +’t has fully desected,</p> +<p>That Fools they are all<span class = +"dash">——</span>which had long been suspected.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">14</span> + +<h5 class = "long">At the <em>Red Lyon</em> at <em>Egham</em>, and in +the Windows at many other Places.</h5> + +<p><i>Cornutus</i> call’d his Wife both Whore and Slut,</p> +<p>Quoth she, you’ll never leave your Brawling—but—</p> +<p>But, what? quoth he: Quoth she, the Post or Door;</p> +<p>For you have Horns to But, if I’m a Whore.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at the Pudding-House in the Road to +<em>Islington</em>.</h5> + +<p>The End of all, and in the End</p> +<p>The Praise of all depends:</p> +<p>A Pudding merits double Praise,</p> +<p>Because it hath two Ends.</p> + + +<h5>Underneath it.</h5> + +<p>A Pudding hath two Ends; You lye, my Brother,</p> +<p>For it begins at one, and ends at t’other.</p> + + +<h5>On Marriage. By a Batchelor.</h5> + +<p>Wedding and Hanging, both the Fates dispatch.</p> +<p>Yet Hanging seems to me the better Match.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at <em>Bath</em>.</h5> + +<h6>On a Gentleman’s saying he had calculated his Son’s Nativity, the +Boy being then about nine Days old.</h6> + +<p><i>Lavinia</i> brought to Bed, her Husband looks</p> +<p>To know the Bantling’s Fortune in his Books.</p> +<p>Wiser he’d been, had he look’d backward rather,</p> +<p>And seen for certain, who had been its Father.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">15</span> +<h5>In the Vaults at <em> Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>Dung, when scatter’d o’er the Plain,</p> +<p>Causes noble Crops of Grain:</p> +<p>Dung in Gardens too we want,</p> +<p>To cherish ev’ry springing Plant.</p> +<p>Corn and Plants since Dung affords,</p> +<p>We eat as well as sh<span class = "dash">——</span> our +T<span class = "dash">——</span>ds.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written in the Window of a Lady’s Chamber, who on a +slight Indisposition sent for <em>S. J. S.</em></h5> + +<p>The Doctor more than Illness we should fear;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Sickness precedes, and Death attends his Coach,</p> +<p>Agues to Fevers rise, if he appear,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And Fevers grow to Plagues at his Approach.</p> + + +<h5>On Miss <em>Green</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset"> +What gives the pleasant Mead its Grace,</p> +<p>What spreads at Spring Earth’s smiling Face,</p> +<p>What jolly Hunters chuse to wear,</p> +<p>Gives Name to her whose Chains I bear.</p> + + +<h5>On Miss <em>Partridge</em> of <em>Ely</em>.</h5> + +<p>That of the pretty feather’d Race,</p> +<p>Which most doth courtly Tables grace,</p> +<p>And o’er the Mountains bends it Flight,</p> +<p>Or lurks in Fields with Harvest bright;</p> +<p>For whose Destruction Men with Care,</p> +<p>The noblest Canine Breed prepare,</p> +<p>Bestows a Name on that fair Maid</p> +<p>Whose Eyes to Love my Heart betray’d.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">16</span> + +<h5>On Miss <em>Sk<span class = "dash">——</span></em> at +<em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>The <i>Irish</i> have a certain Root,</p> +<p>Our Parsnip’s very like unto’t,</p> +<p>Which eats with Butter wond’rous well,</p> +<p>And like Potatoes makes a Meal.</p> +<p>Now from this Root there comes a Name,</p> +<p>Which own’d is by the beauteous Dame,</p> +<p>Who sways the Heart of <i>him</i> who rules</p> +<p>A mighty Herd of Knaves and Fools.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">A <em>Rebus</em> written in one of the Windows of a +large House near <em>Epsom</em>.</h5> + +<p>The Court of Love’s assembled here,</p> +<p>’Tis <i>Venus</i> Queen of Beauty’s Sphere,</p> +<p>In all her Charms she stands confest,</p> +<p>And rules supreme the noblest Breast.</p> +<p>Ye Shepherds would ye learn the Name</p> +<p>Of her who spreads so vast a Flame,</p> +<p>Know that ’tis hid from the Prophane;</p> +<p>And that your strictest Search is <i>Vain</i>.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window of the Great Room at <em>Scarborough</em>.</h5> + +<p>What strange Vicissitudes we see</p> +<p class = "inset"> +In Pleasure, as in Realms take Place</p> +<p>For nothing here can constant be,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Where springing Joys the old efface.</p> +<p>The Theatre, of Yore the Field</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Of Conquests, gain’d by blooming Maids,</p> +<p>Now must to modern Operas yield,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +As they, to courtly Masquerades.</p> +<p>Nor better fares those sweet Retreats</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Which they in sultry Summer chose:</p> +<p>Since <i>Scarb’rough</i>, Paradise of Sweets!</p> +<p class = "inset"> +On ruined <i>Bath</i> and <i>Tunbridge</i> rose.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">17</span> +<span class = "folionum">D</span> + +<h5>Traced with a Smoke of a Candle in <em>Newgate</em>.</h5> + +<p><i>Dick</i>, on two Words, thought to maintain him ever:</p> +<p>The first was <i>Stand</i>, and next to <i>Stand, Deliver</i>.</p> +<p>But <i>Dick</i>’s in <i>Newgate</i>, and he fears shall never,</p> +<p>Be blest again with that sweet Word <i>Deliver</i>.</p> + + +<h5>In the Window of a Coffee-House at <em>Richmond</em>.</h5> + +<p>My <i>Chloe</i> is an Angel bright,</p> +<p>But <i>Chloe</i>’s common<span class = "dash">——</span>so +is Light.</p> +<p>And who with <i>Phœbus</i> Fault shall find,</p> +<p>Because his Beams to all are kind.</p> + + +<h5>On a Pannel at the Rose.</h5> + +<p><i>Nanny Meadowes</i> has undone me,</p> +<p>From myself her Charms have won me.</p> +<p>With Love’s blazing Flames I die,</p> +<p>Whither, whither shall I fly!</p> + + +<h5>Underneath.</h5> + +<p>Prithee, Coxcomb, without Whining,</p> +<p>Say thou hast a mind to Sinning</p> +<p>With a Guinea, do but ask her,</p> +<p>Love you’ll find<span class = "dash">——</span>is no hard +Task, Sir.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">On a long-winded Preacher at <em>Coventry</em>: From +a Window there.</h5> + +<p>Twelve Minutes, and one tedious Hour</p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Mills</i> kept me once in Pain,</p> +<p>But if I had it my Power,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +He ne’er should preach again.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">18</span> + +<h5>A <em>Liliputian</em> <span class = "smallcaps">Ode</span>. Composed +at <em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3">Charming <i>Molly</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Cease your Folly,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Learn to ease me,</p> +<p class = "inset3">No more teaze me.</p> +<p class = "inset3">Love’s but Reason</p> +<p class = "inset3">When in Season:</p> +<p class = "inset3">Nay, ’tis Duty,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Youth and Beauty</p> +<p class = "inset3">To improve</p> +<p class = "inset3">In happy Love.</p> +<p class = "inset3">Therefore, <i>Molly</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Cease your Folly,</p> +<p class = "inset3">And instead of being coy,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Give, O give your Lover Joy!</p> + + +<h5>The <em>Fair Lady’s Answer</em>. In the same Measure.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3">Rhiming <i>Billy</i>,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Soft and silly,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Are the verses,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Muse rehearses,</p> +<p class = "inset3">When with straining</p> +<p class = "inset3">You’re obtaining</p> +<p class = "inset3">Her Assistance</p> +<p class = "inset3">’Gainst Resistance,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Made by Mistress</p> +<p class = "inset3">To your Distress.</p> +<p class = "inset3">Therefore early</p> +<p class = "inset3">Quit them fairly,</p> +<p class = "inset3">If you’d be rid of Woe,</p> +<p class = "inset3">Prithee, Prithee, Coxcomb, do.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">19</span> +<span class = "folionum">D2</span> + +<h5>The Clowns and the Conjurer. By a Lady.</h5> + +<p>A Clown, who had lost his Mare,</p> +<p>To his Neighbour, a Wit, did repair,</p> +<p>And begg’d him with him to go</p> +<p>To the famous Doctor <i>Foreknow</i>,</p> +<p>A Conjurer powerful and strong,</p> +<p>Who would tell who had done the Wrong.</p> +<p>So when to the Door they came,</p> +<p>The Wit, he besh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t the same:</p> +<p>Then knocking — the Doctor appears,</p> +<p>And in Midst of his Passion he swears,</p> +<p>If he knew but the nasty Dog</p> +<p>Who had sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>t at his Gate like a +Rogue,</p> +<p>He’d do to him Lord knows what.</p> +<p>Quoth the Wit — why know you not that?</p> +<p>Then, Neighbour, e’en save your Pence,</p> +<p>For his Learning is all a Pretence:</p> +<p>If he knows not who sh<span class = "hyphen">-</span>t<span class = +"dash">——</span>of course,</p> +<p>He nothing can know of your Horse.</p> +<p>And no Light can his Figures afford,</p> +<p>Whose Conjuring’s not worth a T<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> +<p>So as wise our two Clowns came Home,</p> +<p>As any who on such Errands roam.</p> + + +<h5>On a Pannel at the Faulcon in <em>St. Neot</em>’s +<em>Huntingdonshire</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +My Maidenhead sold for a Guinea,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +A lac’d Head with the Money I bought;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +In which I look’d so bonny,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +The Heart of a Gamester I caught:</p> +<p>A while he was fond, and brought Gold to my Box,</p> +<p>But at last he robb’d me, and left me the P<span class = +"dash">——</span></p> + +<span class = "pagenum part4">20</span> + +<h5>Underneath.</h5> + +<p>When you balance Accounts, it sure may be said,</p> +<p>You at a bad Market sold your Maidenhead.</p> + + +<h5>The <em>Inamorato</em>. In a Window at <em>Twickenham</em>.</h5> + +<p>When dull and melancholy,</p> +<p>I rove to charming <i>Dolly</i>,</p> +<p>Whose Sweetness doth so charm me,</p> +<p>And wanton Tricks so warm me,</p> +<p>That quite dissolv’d in Love,</p> +<p>No Trouble then I prove,</p> +<p>But am as truly blest</p> +<p>Upon her panting Breast,</p> +<p>As if to me she brought</p> +<p>All for which <i>Cæsar</i> fought:</p> +<p>For I, like <i>Anthony</i>,</p> +<p>With Beauty would be free,</p> +<p>Altho’ again’t shou’d cost</p> +<p>The Price of Empire lost.</p> + + +<h5>An <em>Answer</em>. In the next Pane.</h5> + +<p>You sure were full of Folly,</p> +<p>When in the Praise of <i>Dolly</i>,</p> +<p>You wrote your am’rous Ditty,</p> +<p>Which sure deserves her Pity,</p> +<p>Since plainly it doth prove,</p> +<p>Your Brain is crack’d with Love;</p> +<p>Who else would talk of giving</p> +<p>An Empire for a <span class = "dash">——</span></p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>When Twenty will down</p> +<p>Each for a Silver Crown,</p> +<p>And thank you when they’ve done</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">21</span> + +<h5>In a Window. At <em>Lebeck’s-Head</em>.</h5> + +<p>If it be true each Promise is a Debt,</p> +<p>Then <i>Celia</i> hardly will her Freedom get;</p> +<p>Yet she, to satisfy her Debts, desires</p> +<p>To yield her Body as the Law requires.</p> + + +<h5>In the <em>Summer-House</em> on <em>Gray’s Inn Terras</em>.</h5> + +<p>Who speaks to please in ev’ry Way,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And not himself offend,</p> +<p>He may begin to work to Day,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But Heaven knows when he’ll end.</p> + + +<h5>In the same Place.</h5> + +<p>Dogs on their Masters fawn and leap,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And wag their Tails apace,</p> +<p>So tho’ a Flatterer wants a Tail,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +His Tongue supplies its Place.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window of the <em>Rene-Deer-Inn</em> at +<em>Bishop’s-Strafford</em>.</h5> + +<p>He that loves a Glass without a G,</p> +<p>Leave out L, and that is he.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Wrote with a Pencil on a Pannel in one of the Courts +of Justice in <em>Guild-Hall</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset3"> +To go to Law</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +I have no Maw,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Altho’ my Suit be sure,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +For I may lack</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +Cloaths to my Back,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +E’er I that Suit procure<ins class = "correction" +title = "text has comma">. </ins></p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">22</span> + +<h5>At the Tuns in <em>Cambridge</em>. Written with a Pencil on the +Wall.</h5> + +<p>Marriage in Days of old has liken’d been</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Unto a publick Feast, or Revel Rout,</p> +<p>Where those who are without would fain get in,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And those who are within would fain get out.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">On two old Maids: Written with a Pencil in the +<em>Pump Room</em> at <em>Bath</em>.</h5> + +<p>Why are <i>Doll</i>’s Teeth so white, and <i>Susan</i>’s black?</p> +<p class = "inset"> +The Reason soon is known.</p> +<p><i>Doll</i> buys her Teeth which she doth lack,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But <i>Susan</i> wears her own.<a class = "tag" name = "tagA" id = +"tagA" href = "#noteA">A</a></p> + +<h5>In a Window, at the <em>Rose-Tavern</em> in +<em>Catherine-Street</em>.</h5> + +<h6>On Mrs. <em>C<span class = "dash">——</span> P<span class += "dash">——</span></em></h6> + +<p>So early <i>Con</i> began the wanton Trade,</p> +<p>She scarce remembers when she was a Maid.</p> + + +<h5>In the Window of a Sharper’s Chambers in the <em>Temple</em>.</h5> + +<p>Oft with an Oath has <i>Cog</i> the Gamester said,</p> +<p>That no Disease should make him keep his Bed,</p> +<p>Urg’d for a Reason, I have heard him tell it,</p> +<p>To keep my Word<span class = "dash">——</span>in Troth I +mean to sell it.</p> + + +<h5>In a Bog-House at <em>Putney</em>.</h5> + +<p>The Poor have <i>little</i>, Beggars <i>none</i>,</p> +<p>The Rich <i>too much</i>, <i>enough</i>, not one.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">23</span> + +<h5 class = "long">Written at the Request of a Lady who on her Wedding +Day entreated an old Lover to write something upon her in the +Window.</h5> + +<p>This glittering Diamond, and this worthless Glass,</p> +<p><i>Celia</i>, display thy Virtue and thy Face;</p> +<p>Bright as the Brilliant while thy Beauty shows</p> +<p>Ev’n Glass itself’s less brittle than thy Vows.</p> + + +<h5>The <em>Italian</em> Gout.</h5> + +<p>If a Man lets a Fart in fair <i>Italy</i>,</p> +<p>From Lovers he never is after free;</p> +<p>For why <span class = "dash">——</span> amongst those +Dons, ’tis said,</p> +<p>’Tis a certain Sign of a Male Maidenhead.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window of a certain Lady of Pleasure’s Lodgings in +<em>Bow-Street</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "inset2"> +When with <i>Phillis</i> toying,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Eager for enjoying,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Muse can say</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +How sweet our Play,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +What Numbers tell</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +The Joys we feel?</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Happy Lovers only know</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Bliss unmix’d with any Woe.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +The Ambitious when rais’d to the Summit of Power,</p> +<p>In the Midst of their Joy fear that Fortune may lower;</p> +<p>The Miser, who Thousands has heap’d in his Chest,</p> +<p>In the Midst of Riches is never at rest.</p> +<p>And the Heroe, whose Bosom his Glory still warms,</p> +<p>In the Midst of his Conquests fears the Change of his Arms.</p> +<span class = "pagenum part4">24</span> +<p>But the Lover, whose Fondness his Hours doth employ,</p> +<p>In the Midst of her Charms knows no End of his Joy.</p> + +<p class = "inset2 first"> +Then quit Hopes of rising,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +And Riches despising,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Leave the Camp and the Court</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +For Love’s pleasing Sport;</p> +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p class = "inset2"> +By Experience you’ll know,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Love’s Pleasure’s still flow,</p> +<p>Un-embitter’d with Care, and untinctur’d with Woe.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at <em>Parson’s-Green</em>.</h5> + +<h6>The Lover’s Retreat.</h6> + +<p>From meaner Pleasure I retire,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Yet real Happiness pursue;</p> +<p>Friendship and Love my Breast inspire,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And I have met them both in you,</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Whatever in my Wish had Place,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +In thee, my lovely Fair, I find;</p> +<p>All that’s beauteous in thy Face,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +And all that’s virtuous in thy Mind.</p> + + +<h5>Written by Mr. <span class = "dash">——</span> in +<em>Chloe</em>’s Bed-Chamber.</h5> + +<p>Wou’d you know the true Road that to Pleasure doth lead,</p> +<p>Then this Way, ye Swains, your Footsteps must tread.</p> +<p>And then for the Piece which this Pleasure doth cost,</p> +<p>Why, ’tis only a Guinea, you can’t think it lost.</p> +<p>Since Supper and Lodging, and Mistress and all,</p> +<p>Nay, and Maid, if you like her, are ready at Call.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">25</span> +<span class = "folionum">E</span> + +<h5>The <em>Thief</em> and the <em>Doctor</em>.</h5> + +<p>A Thief a Parson stopp’d on the Highway,</p> +<p>And having bid him stand, next bid him pay.</p> +<p>The Parson drew his sword, for well he durst,</p> +<p>And quickly put his Foe unto the Worst.</p> +<p>Sir, (quoth the Thief) I by your Habit see,</p> +<p>You are a Churchman, and Debate should flee,</p> +<p>You know ’tis written in the sacred Word,</p> +<p><i>Jesus</i> to <i>Peter</i> said, <i>Put up thy Sword</i>:</p> +<p>True, (quoth the Parson) but withal then hear,</p> +<p>St. <i>Peter</i> first had cut off <i>Malchus</i>’s Ear.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long"> +<em>Pasquin</em> against <em>P. S. Quintus</em><a class = "tag" name = +"tagB" id = "tagB" href = "#noteB">B</a>, when he forbid the +Bawdy-Houses at <em>Rome</em>, in Queen <em>Elizabeth</em>’s Time.</h5> + +<p><i>Lex prohibet Pueros, prohibet Lupanaria Sixtus;</i></p> +<p class = "inset"> +<i>Ergo quid agendum? Sit tibi amica manus.</i></p> + + +<h5>The Cure of Love.</h5> + +<p>Love is, as some Physicians say,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +A Fever bred by too high Feeding:</p> +<p>To cure it then the speediest Way,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Would be by Purging, and by Bleeding.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">Written in the Window of the Bar of the +<em>White-Swan-Tavern</em> of the City of <em>Norwich</em>.</h5> + +<p class = "smallcaps" align = "center">Mcccmixixx.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +<span class = "dash">——</span> <span class = +"dash">——</span> <span class = "dash">——</span> +<i>firmissima vina,</i></p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> <span class = +"dash">——</span> <span class = "dash">——</span> +<i>reponite mensis,</i></p> +<p><span class = "dash">——</span> <span class = +"dash">——</span> <span class = "dash">——</span> +<i>& pocula porgite dextris.</i></p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">26</span> + +<h5>In the Bog-House of the same Tavern.</h5> + +<span class = "bracket"> </span> +<p>Six Pennyworth of Whiting,</p> +<p>A Hole to let Light in,</p> +<p>Will make it fit to sh<span class = "hyphen">--</span>te in.</p> + + +<h5>Underneath.</h5> + +<p>By what’s above, I welly ween,</p> +<p>The Fool wants Light to sh<span class = "hyphen">-</span>t him +clean.</p> + + +<h5>In a Bog-House in <em>St. Michael</em>’s Parish in +<em>Norwich</em>.</h5> + +<p><i>Tim Kirby</i>, <i>Peter Harrod</i>, and <i>Will Hall</i>,</p> +<p>Are three fit Pieces for a Bog-House Wall.</p> + +<h5>Underneath. By another.</h5> + +<p>But <i>Old Nick</i> has got them all.</p> + + +<h5>Written in a Bog-House at <em>Ipswich</em>.</h5> + +<p><i>Si desit stramen, cum digito terge Feramen.</i></p> + + +<h5>In <em>English</em>. By another.</h5> + +<p>If you cannot get some Grass,</p> +<p>With your Finger wipe your A<span class = "hyphen">--</span>se</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">27</span> +<span class = "folionum">E2</span> + +<h5>And under that, by another.</h5> + +<p>Such wretched <i>Latin</i>, and such wretched Verse,</p> +<p>Are proper <i>Stremina</i> to clean my A<span class = +"hyphen">--</span>se.</p> + + +<h5>In a Window at <em>Mount Ephraim</em>, near <em>Tunbridge</em>:</h5> + +<h6>A Dialogue between a Lover and a Poet.</h6> + +<p><i>Lov.</i> What is bright <i>Celia</i> like, Dear Poet, say?</p> +<p><i>Poet.</i> Why <i>Celia</i>, Sir, is like a Summer’s Day.</p> +<p><i>Lov.</i> Who to a Day could liken such a Woman?</p> +<p><i>Poet.</i> Is she not very <i>fair</i>, and very <i>common</i>?</p> + + +<h5>Written with a Pencil in the Vault at <em>Chelsea College</em>.</h5> + +<p>Who scribbles on the Wall when he’s at sh<span class = +"hyphen">-</span>-,</p> +<p>May sure be said to have a Flux of Wit.</p> + + +<h5>In the Vaults at <em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p>Like Claret-Drinkers Stools, a Blockhead’s Brain;</p> +<p>Hardly conceives what it brings forth with Pain.</p> +<p>Such is my Case<span class = "dash">——</span>who, while +I’m thus inditing,</p> +<p>Prove the Analogy ’twixt it and Sh<span class = +"dash">——</span>—.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">28</span> + +<h5>Written on the Window of a Coffee-House.</h5> + +<h6>Underneath, Coffee, Tea, &c.</h6> + +<p class = "first"> +The Mistress by her Window’s represented,</p> +<p>For why, ’tis brittle Ware, and painted.</p> + + +<h5>On a Butcher’s marrying a Tanner’s Daughter at +<em>Reading</em>.</h5> + +<p>A fitter Match there never could have been,</p> +<p>Since here the <i>Flesh</i> is wedded to the <i>Skin</i>.</p> + + +<h5>At <em>Tunbridge</em>.</h5> + +<p><i>Chloe</i> is fair as <i>Fields</i> in Autumn seen,</p> +<p>Her Temper gentle as the purling <i>Stream</i>:</p> +<p>That’s true; but then with those the rest conspire,</p> +<p>Lighter she is than <i>Air</i>, and hot as <i>Fire</i>.</p> + + +<h5>In Mrs. <em>Cowser</em>’s Window; in <em>Russel-Street</em>, +<em>Covent-Garden</em>.</h5> + + +<p class = "inset"> +Love, ’tis said, his Arrows shooting,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Wounds is ever distributing;</p> +<p class = "inset"> +But before I felt, I knew not,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That in Poison dipp’d they flew hot.</p> + +<p class = "inset3 first"> +To <i>Jenny</i> I owe</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +That this Secret I know,</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +For her I felt Smart</p> +<p class = "inset3"> +At first in my Heart;</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Which quickly she cur’d: But alack and alas!</p> +<p>I now feel a Throbbing in a much lower Place.</p> +<p>To <i>Jenny</i> I went; but, alas! it was in vain:</p> +<p>Though she gave me the Wound, she can’t cure me again.</p> + + +<span class = "pagenum part4">29</span> + +<h5>An Epitaph on an old Maid.</h5> + +<p>Beneath this Place there lies an ancient Maid,</p> +<p>Whose secret Parts no Man did e’er invade;</p> +<p>Scarce her own Finger she’d permit to touch</p> +<p>That Virgin Part, altho’ it itched much.</p> +<p>And in her last expiring dying Groans,</p> +<p>Desir’d no Tomb, if it was built with Stones.</p> + + +<h5>The Effects of Love.</h5> + +<p>Love is the sweetest softest Passion,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +That can warm the human Soul;</p> +<p>’Tis a gentle Inclination</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Which doth ev’ry Care controul:</p> + +<p class = "inset2 first"> +Thro’ our Bosom Love diffusing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Tender Thoughts is ever choosing;</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Softest Words its Flame expressing,</p> +<p class = "inset2"> +Towards the Dame our Heart possessing.</p> + +<p class = "first"> +Love still gentle makes and easy,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Soft in ev’ry Thing we do;</p> +<p>Bent on all Things that may please ye,</p> +<p class = "inset"> +Men are Angels when they Woo.</p> + + +<h5 class = "long">This was wrote somewhere; and means something, if you +can find it out.</h5> + +<p>A Beauty like her’s whose Charms I now sing,</p> +<p>Ne’er sparkled in vain in the Box or the Ring;</p> +<p>No Youth of Distinction who gaz’d on her Eyes,</p> +<p>E’er retir’d, but he left her his Heart as her Prize.</p> +<p>Vain are all their Endeavours, for still the coy Maid,</p> +<p>At the Mention of Marriage, look’d strangely afraid,</p> +<p>Nor e’er thought of yeilding<span class = +"dash">——</span>until not long since</p> +<p>Eluding dull Ties<span class = "dash">——</span>she was +join’d to a P<span class = "dash">——</span></p> + +<p> </p> + +<h4 class = "extended"><i>FINIS.</i></h4> + +</div> + +<hr class = "full"> +<hr class = "full"> + +<p> </p> + +<div class = "advert"> + +<span class = "pagenum">1</span> + +<h5><i><a name = "advert" id = "advert">Entertaining <span class = +"extended">PAMPHLETS</span> just Printed.</a></i></h5> + + +<p>1. <span class = "extended"><b>T</b>HE MERRY-THOUGHT</span>: Or, +<i>The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany</i>. Containing such Pieces +of Wit and Humour as have been writ with Diamonds, <i>&c.</i> by +Persons of the First Quality in <i>Great Britain</i>, on Glass-Windows, +Drinking-Glasses, Bog-Houses, <i>&c.</i> at the most publick Places +of Resort in this Kingdom. In four Parts. Price 6 <i>d.</i> +each.</p> + +<p>2. <i>Round about Our Coal-Fire:</i> Or, <i>Christmas +Entertainments</i>. Treating of Mirth and Jollity, Eating, Drinking, +Kissing, <i>&c.</i> Of Hobgoblins, Raw-Heads and Bloody-Bones, +<i>Tom-Pokers</i>, Bull-Beggars, Witches, Wizards, Conjurers, and such +like horrible Bodies. Adorn’d with many diverting Cuts. Price +6 <i>d.</i></p> + +<p>3. A View of the <span class = "extended">BEAU MONDE</span>: Or, +<i>Memoirs of the Celebrated <span class = +"extended">COQUETILLA</span></i>. In which is interspersed the Amours of +several Persons of Quality and Distinction. To which is added, <i>The +Masque of Life:</i> A Ballad. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<p>4. <i>Love-Alamode:</i> Or, <i>The Amours of</i> <span class = +"smallcaps">Florella</span> <i>and</i> <span class = +"smallcaps">Phillis</span>. Being the Memoirs of two Celebrated Ladies +under those Names: In which the whole Circle of Modern Gallantry is +display’d. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<span class = "pagenum">2</span> + +<p>5. <i>The <em>BEAU</em>’s</i> MISCELLANY. Being a Curious Collection +of amorous Tales, diverting Songs, and entertaining Poems: particularly, +<i>The Curious Maid</i>; <i>The Peeper</i>; <i>The Leaky Vessel</i>; +<i>The Bauble</i>; <i>The Longitude</i>; <i>The Parson and his Maid</i>; +<i>The Hoop-Petticoat</i>; <i>The Tickler</i>; <i>The Maiden’s and +Batchelor’s Dreams</i>; <i>cum multis aliis</i>.</p> + +<p class = "inset2"><i>If these merry Tales don’t ev’ry Humour fit,<br> +Let Fops, like me, ne’er nibble more at Wit.</i></p> + +<p>In two Parts. The Second Edition. Price stich’d 2 <i>s.</i> +neatly bound 2 <i>s.</i> 6 <i>d.</i></p> + +<p>6. A PROPOSAL humbly offered to the Parliament, for the more +effectual preventing the farther Growth of <i>Popery</i>. By Dean +<i>Sw<span class = "hyphen">‑‑</span>ft</i>. To which is +added, Two Poems, <i>Helter-Skelter</i>, on the Hue and Cry after the +Country Attornies, on their Riding the Circuit; and, The Place of the +<i>Damn’d</i>. The Second Edition. Price 6 <i>d.</i></p> + +<p>7. <i>The Behaviour of the Clergy, as well as their Traditions +destructive of Religion.</i> Or, A Succinct History of +<i>Priestcraft</i> throughout all Ages. To which is added, Parson +<i>Bow<span class = "hyphen">‑‑</span>n</i>’s Confession: +A Poem. The Third Edition. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<p>8. WAR WITH PRIESTCRAFT, Or, <i>The Freethinker’s Iliad</i>. +A Burlesque Poem. In Three Canto’s. With Notes explaining the +Sentiments, <i>&c.</i> of them and their Followers. Price +1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<p>9. The HONEY-SUCKLE: A Curious Collection of POEMS. Consisting +chiefly of Originals; and interspersed with Translations from the best +<i>Greek</i> and <i>Latin</i> Poets. To which is added, <i>The</i> DUEL: +A Poem. The Second Edition. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<span class = "pagenum">3</span> + +<p>10. <i>The whole Case and Proceedings in relation to <span class = +"extended">BRIDGET READIN</span>G, an Heiress, and </i>Daniel +Kimberley<i> and others.</i> To which is added, The Trial of the said +<i>Kimberley</i>; with his last dying Words, and an Original Letter sent +by him to Mr. <span class = "extended"><i>READING</i></span> a few Days +before his Execution. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<p>11. <i>A View of the</i> TOWN: Or, <i>Memoirs of</i> LONDON. In which +the Humours, Follies, Vices, <i>&c.</i> of that Great +<i>Metropolis</i>, are merrily display’d. Interspersed with several new +and witty Songs.</p> + +<p class = "inset2"> +<i>My Book a </i>Salesman<i>’s Shop you’ll find,</i></p> +<p class = "inset3 nospace"> +Where civilly I’ll treat ye,</p> +<p class = "inset2 nospace"> +<i>To a </i>Fool<i>’s Coat of any Kind,</i></p> +<p class = "inset3 nospace"> +<i>You’r welcome if it fit ye.</i></p> + +<p>The Second Edition. Price 1 <i>s.</i></p> + +<p>12. <i>A Sketch of the Miseries of</i> POVERTY. Dedicated to the +Honourable Sir <i>Griffith Boynton</i> Bart.</p> + +<p class = "inset"><i>Happy the Man, who void of Care and Strife,<br> +In silken or in leathern Purse retains<br> +A splendid Shilling.</i> +<span class = "gap smallcaps extended">Phillips.</span></p> + +<p class = "author"> +Price 6 <i>d.</i></p> + +<p>13. <i>A T<span class = "dash">——</span>d is as good for +a Sow, as a Pancake:</i> Or, <i>The Story of a</i> COCK <i>and a</i> +BULL. Calculated for the Improvement of the Modern Wits. Written by +<i>Myself</i> Esq; Professor of Dulness and Bombast. <ins class = +"correction" title = "text reads ‘Picre’">Price</ins> +6 <i>d.</i></p> + +<p><i>From Nothing comes Nothing, and there remains Nothing.</i></p> + +<p>From a Copy-Book in the <i>Blue-Coat</i> Hospital.</p> + +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<div class = "mynote"> + +<h5>Transcriber’s Footnotes</h5> + +<div class = "footnotes"> +<p><a name = "noteA" id = "noteA" href = "#tagA">A.</a> +“Why are <i>Doll</i>’s teeth so white...”</p> + +<p>This verse is a translation of Martial V.43:</p> + +<p class = "hanging">Thaïs habet nigros, niveos Laecania dentes.<br> +Quae ratio est? Emptos haec habet, illa suos.</p> + +<p><a name = "noteB" id = "noteB" href = "#tagB">B.</a> +P. S. Quintus = Pope Sixtus V. (Quintus)</p> + +</div> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window +and Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + +***** This file should be named 20535-h.htm or 20535-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/3/20535/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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+ +melody = \relative c'' + +{
\clef treble
\key bf \major
\time 6/8
% \set Staff.midiInstrument = "harpsichord" + \autoBeamOff + + g4 g'8 g,4 a8 | bf8 a g g4. | + a4 a'8 a,4 bf8 | c bf a bf a g | + bf'4 g,8 g4 a8 | bf8 c d ef d c | + d8 e fs g d a' | fs4\trill d8 d4. \bar ":|" + a'4 d,8 d4 a'8 | a8 a g g,4 g'8 | + a8 g f e f g | cs,8 d e a, b cs | + d8 e f g e a | f4\trill d8 d4 f8 | % change first ef to natural + f8 d bf f'4 f,8 | ef4 g'8 fs8.\trill ef16 d8 | + bf'8 g d ef g c, | a'8 f c d f bf, | + g'8 f ef d c bf | bf8.\trill a16 g8 g4. || + +} + + \addlyrics { + Bux -- om Joan got on a bald Mare;
+ she rid ramp -- ing on to The Fair,
+ with a Whip and Spur.
+ Such jog -- ging, such flog -- ging,
+ Such splash -- ing, such dash -- ing,
+ was ne'er seen there.
+ Jol -- ly Tom, cry'd out as she Come,
+ thou Mon -- key Face,
+ Pun -- key Face,
+ lous -- ey Face, Frouz -- ey Face,
+ hold thy Hand,
+ Make a Stand,
+ thou'lt be down.
+ No Soon -- er Tom. spoke,
+ but Down comes Joan,
+ with her Head and Bum up and down,
+ So that her A----se was shown.
+ Bald Mare ran gal -- lop -- ing all the Way home.
+ } + +\score { +\new Staff \melody + \layout { + \context { + \Score + \remove Bar_number_engraver +} } +\midi { \tempo 4 = 60 } +} +
diff --git a/20535-h/files/harpsigallop.midi b/20535-h/files/harpsigallop.midi Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfc24f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/files/harpsigallop.midi diff --git a/20535-h/files/pianogallop.midi b/20535-h/files/pianogallop.midi Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c51a95 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/files/pianogallop.midi diff --git a/20535-h/images/bracket.gif b/20535-h/images/bracket.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..21bbaa1 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/images/bracket.gif diff --git a/20535-h/images/bracket4.gif b/20535-h/images/bracket4.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a75011 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/images/bracket4.gif diff --git a/20535-h/images/galloping.png b/20535-h/images/galloping.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ea4d76 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/images/galloping.png diff --git a/20535-h/images/pic2_17.png b/20535-h/images/pic2_17.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cdd8bc9 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/images/pic2_17.png diff --git a/20535-h/images/pic3_24.png b/20535-h/images/pic3_24.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e818c16 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535-h/images/pic3_24.png diff --git a/20535.txt b/20535.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a9bd63 --- /dev/null +++ b/20535.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4148 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and +Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany + Parts 2, 3 and 4 + +Author: Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +Commentator: Maximillian E. Novak + +Contributor: James Roberts + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + [Transcriber's Note: + + The texts cited use a variety of long and short dashes, generally with + no relationship to the number of letters omitted. For this e-text, + short dashes are shown as separated hyphens, while longer dashes are + shown as connected hyphens: + + D - - - n _Molley H----ns_ for her Pride. + + Groups of vertical braces } represent a single brace encompassing + three-- in one case, four-- rhymed lines.] + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + + The Augustan Reprint Society + + THE + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + Glass-Window and Bog-House + MISCELLANY. + + + Parts 2, 3, and 4 + (1731-?) + + + _Introduction by_ + MAXIMILLIAN E. NOVAK + + + Publication Number 221-222 + WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY + University of California, Los Angeles + 1983 + + + + +GENERAL EDITOR + + David Stuart Rodes, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + +EDITORS + + Charles L. Batten, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Thomas Wright, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +ADVISORY EDITORS + + Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_ + William E. Conway, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Phillip Harth, _University of Wisconsin, Madison_ + Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_ + Earl Miner, _Princeton University_ + James Sutherland, _University College, London_ + Norman J. W. Thrower, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + John M. Wallace, _University of Chicago_ + + +PUBLICATIONS MANAGER + + Nancy M. Shea, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +CORRESPONDING SECRETARY + + Beverly J. Onley, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + +EDITORIAL ASSISTANT + + Frances Miriam Reed, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +In an address to the American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies at +the 1983 annual meeting, Roger Lonsdale suggested that our knowledge of +eighteenth-century poetry has depended heavily on what our anthologies +have decided to print. For the most part modern anthologies have, in +turn, drawn on collections put together at the end of the eighteenth +century and the beginning of the next, when the ideal for inclusion was +essentially that of "polite taste." The obscene, the feminine, and the +political were by general cultural agreement usually omitted. Lonsdale +is not the only scholar questioning the basis of the canon; indeed, +revisionism is fast becoming one of the more ingenious--and +useful--parlor games among academics. Modern readers are no longer so +squeamish about obscenity nor so uncomfortable with the purely personal +lyric as were the editors at the end of the eighteenth century. And we +are hardly likely to find poetry written by women objectionable on that +score alone. In short, the anthologies we depend upon are out of date. + + +Among the works that would never have been a source of poems for the +canon, and one mentioned by Lonsdale, was the collection of verse +published in four parts by J. Roberts beginning in 1731, _The +Merry-Thought: or, the Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_, commonly +known simply as _The Bog-House Miscellany_. Its contemporary reputation +may be described as infamous. James Bramston, in his _The Man of Taste_ +(1733), mentioned it as an example in poetry of the very opposite of +"good Taste" (ARS 171 [1975], 7). Polite taste, of course, is meaningful +only if it can define itself by what it excludes, and nothing could be +in worse taste than a collection of pieces written on windows, carved in +tables, or inscribed on the walls of Britain's loos. + +Just as the compilers of a modern work, _The Good Loo Guide_, were +parodying a well-known guide book to British restaurants, so the unknown +authors of _The Merry-Thought_ had some notion, however discontinuous, +of parodying the nation's polite literature. Were not Pope and Swift +famous for their distinguished miscellanies? What could be more amusing +than a collection of poems that represented a different poetic +ideal--a collection of verse with none of the pretensions to artistic +merit claimed by the superstars of the poetic world--the spontaneous +productions of nonpoets in moments of idleness or desperation. +Apparently some of the inscribers in the bog-houses used excrement +as a medium for--as well as a subject of--their inscriptions. _The +Merry-Thought_, then, is not even the kind of art that Dryden attacked +in _MacFlecknoe_ and Pope in his _Dunciad_--the work of bad poets +masquerading as geniuses.[1] Rather, it is a primitive form of folk art +produced as a more or less spontaneous act of play or passion, and +achieving some small degree of respectability only when practiced by a +respected poet and collected with his more serious verse.[2] Like modern +"serial" graffiti, it could function as a form of communication since +the first inscriptions often provoked those who followed to make their +own contributions. + + [Footnote 1: On the other hand, the willingness of publishers to + bring out such material would have suited well enough with Pope's + picture of heir heroic games. See Alexander Pope, _The Dunciad_, ed. + James utherland, Twickenham Edition, 2d ed., rev. (London: Methuen, + 1953), 97-306, bk 2, lines 17-220.] + + [Footnote 2: See, for example, W. H. Auden's "Academic Graffiti," in + Collected Poems_, ed. Edward Mendelsohn (London: Faber and Faber, + 976), 510-18. Such a verse as the following is more clever than most + raffiti, but like ordinary graffiti it remains essentially + "unpoetic": Lord Byron / Once succumbed to a Siren. / His flesh was + weak, / Hers reek."] + +Indeed, one of the more interesting aspects of graffiti is that in an +impermanent form it testifies to the continuance over the centuries of +certain human concerns. Recent studies of graffiti have often focused on +particular modern conflicts between races or nations, on drug problems, +and on specific political commentary.[3] But such local matters aside, +the content of modern graffiti is surprisingly like that of earlier +periods: scatological observations, laments of lovers, accusations +against women for their sexual promiscuity, the repetition of "trite" +poems and sayings, and messages attributed to various men and women +suggesting their sexual availability and proficiency. And if the +political targets have changed over the years, many of the political +attitudes have remained consistent. Graffiti is an irreverent form, with +strong popular and anti-establishment elements. As actions common to all +classes, eating, drinking, defecation, and fornication find their lowly +record in graffiti-like form. + + [Footnote 3: See, for example, Elizabeth Wales and Barbara Brewer, + "Graffiti in the 1970's," _Journal of Social Psychology_ 99 (1976): + 115-23.] + +On the most basic level, a writer will observe that the excrement of +the rich differs in no way from that of the poor. Thus one poem, taken +supposedly from a "Person of Quality's Boghouse," has the following +sentiment: + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + (Pt. 2, p. 25) + +There is nothing very polite about such observations, and no pretension +to art. These verses belong strictly to folklore and the sociology of +literature, but they suggest some continuing rumbles of discontent +against the class system, the existence among the lower orders of some +of the egalitarian attitudes that survived the passing of the Lollards +and the Levellers. Who were the writers of these pieces? Were they +indeed laborers? Or were they from the lower part of what was called the +"middle orders"? Is there some evidence to be found in the very fact +that they could write? + +Graffiti may, indeed, tell us something about degrees of literacy. One +wit remarked that whatever the ability to read or write may have been at +the time, almost everyone seemed to have been literate when presented +with a bog-house wall: "Since all who come to Bog-house write" (pt. 2, +p. 26). The traditional connection between defecation and writing was +another comparison apparent to the commentators. One wrote: + + There's Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + (Pt. 2, p. 13) + +And the lack of some paper or material to clean the rear end provoked +the following sentiment in the form of a litany: + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear'd with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_---- + (Pt. 4, p. 7) + +Other types of graffiti, however, vary from the very earnest expression +of affection to the nonexcrementally satiric. One of the more unusual is +a poem in praise of a faithful and loving wife: + + 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. + (Pt. 3, p. 5) + +Underneath this poem, _The Merry-Thought_ records a favorable comment on +the sentiment. Even more earnest is the complaint of a woman about her +fate in love: + + Since cruel Fate has robb'd me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I'll ne'er love more, dispairing e'er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + (Pt. 2, p. 12) + +We will never know why she was unable to marry the man she truly loved; +but her bitterness may have been short-lived. Just after this +inscription comes a cynical comment identifying the lady as a member of +the Walker family. And the writer insists that like all women she was +inconstant, since he kissed her the next night. + +This cynical approach to love and women dominates _The Merry-Thought_. +Part three, for instance, contains a poem that reads like a parody of +Belinda awaking in the first canto of Pope's _Rape of the Lock_. The +author, identified as W. Overb - - ry, presents a realistic morning +scene without either the charms and beauties that surround Pope's +Belinda or the viciousness and focus of Swift's similar pictures (see +pt. 3, p. 26). + +Prevailingly, women are depicted as sexually insatiable, as in a piece +written by a man who takes a month's vacation from sex to recoup his +strength (pt. 2, p. 12). And the related image of the female with a +sexual organ capable of absorbing a man plays a variation on the vagina +dentata theme (e.g., pt. 2, pp. 19, 24). A drawing of a man hanging +himself for love raises a considerable debate on whether such a thing +can indeed occur (pt. 2, pp. 17-18). In a more realistic vein, though +equally cynical, is the poem on the woman who complained of her husband +making her pregnant so often: + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e'er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + S. M. 1708. + (Pt. 2, pp. 10-11) + +S. M. is clearly unsympathetic to the plight of married women in an age +with only the most primitive forms of birth control.[4] The picture of +her as a long-suffering person is undercut by the casual male assumption +that giving birth was not really dangerous and that women make too much +of the pain and difficulty. That women were often forced to go through +thirteen or fourteen deliveries when little thought had yet been given +to creating an antiseptic environment for childbirth is apparently of +little concern to S. M., who finds in the apparent willingness of the +woman to have sexual intercourse one more time sufficient reason for +contempt. + + [Footnote 4: For an account of the horrors associated with + childbirth, see Lawrence Stone, _The Family, Sex, and Marriage in + England, 1500-1800_ (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 79-80.] + +In addition to giving glimpses into social attitudes, _The +Merry-Thought_ has a variety of inscriptions that show the way these +writings functioned. Professor George Guffey, in his introduction to +the first part of this work (ARS 216 [1982], iii-iv), remarks upon the +proposal scene carried on in _Moll Flanders_ between Moll and the +admirer who will prove her third husband and her brother. Such scenes +involving witty proposals and responses cut into the windows of taverns +were real enough at the time. The exchange in part two of _The +Merry-Thought_ is not, however, half so satisfactory. The woman takes +umbrage at her admirer's suggestions that the glass on which he writes +is "the Emblem" of her mind in being "brittle, slipp'ry, [and] +pois'nous," and writes in retort: + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can't prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + (Pt. 2, p. 27) + +Though an easy cynicism about women's availability and about the +body's insistently animal functions predominates, there is enough +variety in _The Merry-Thought_ to provide something of a picture of +eighteenth-century society were any future anthropologist to come +upon this volume as the sole remnant of that period. He would see a +society engaged rather more in animal functions than in intellectual +pursuits--a society rather more concerned with drinking, love, and +defecation than the picture presented by the polite and intellectual +literature of the time allowed. But he would also find in the satirical +squibs on Corny, the Cambridge bookseller and printer, evidence of +learning and university life (pt. 2, pp. 4-6) as well as a criticism of +opera (pt. 2, pp. 14-16). He would see numerous young men longing for +their mistresses to soften their hearts toward them, and cynical older +men who had lost their illusions about love. But he could also come upon +a straight piece of philosophy taken from the still fashionable Flask +tavern in Hampstead (pt. 2, p. 24) or lowly bits of pious folk wisdom +(pt. 2, p. 10). More often, however, he would uncover a society in which +there was little of the generalized style that characterizes even the +most personal formal poetry of the period. Many of the writers identify +themselves and the names of the women they love or detest. In short, if +these volumes do little else, they do provide a vivid glimpse into the +personal life of the time, and to that extent an injection of some of +these inscriptions into the anthologies of the period might help in +providing a lively and piquant context for the serious artistic +production of writers like Gay and Swift. + + +The announced "publisher" of this olio was one Hurlothrumbo, a character +drawn from the theatrical piece of that name by Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire (1691-1773). Professor Guffey has proposed that James Roberts, +for whom the four parts were printed, "was almost certainly the +collector of the graffiti" and that the name of Hurlothrumbo was invoked +in order to attract some of the attention that Samuel Johnson of +Cheshire and his play were still receiving two years after the play's +first performance and publication.[5] But Roberts would appear an +unlikely candidate for the role of editor;[6] I would suggest, rather, +the possibility of a more direct and active connection with Samuel +Johnson of Cheshire: that he was himself likely the compiler of the +four parts of _The Merry-Thought_ and that, whatever the individual +versifiers may have intended, this infamous collection of graffiti--_as +collection_--shares very closely with Johnson's other work a spirit of +wild variety, eccentric juxtaposition, and essential anarchism that is +meant to lead, not to clever parody of polite literature, but to a new, +almost apocalyptic vision of the sublime. + + [Footnote 5: See ARS 216, x, n. 12. Professor Guffey offers + parallels between _The Merry-Thought_ and _Hurlothrumbo_ in + "Graffiti, Hurlo Thrumbo, and the Other Samuel Johnson," _Forum: + A Journal of the Humanities and Fine Arts_ 17 (1979): 35-47.] + + [Footnote 6: Michael Treadwell has demonstrated that the "trade + publishers" of the eighteenth century, such as James Roberts, acted + almost exclusively as binders and distributors of books and were + therefore different in kind from the printers and booksellers, who + were directly involved in the selection and production process. + Roberts and the other "trade publishers" dealt almost exclusively in + "works belonging to others," and Treadwell singles out Roberts as + the purest example. Despite putting his name to "literally thousands + of works," he never purchased any of the copyrights on works during + his long career. See "London Trade Publishers, 1675-1750," + _Library_, 6th ser., 4 (1982): 99-134.] + +At the first level, _Hurlothrumbo: Or, The Super-Natural_ (1729) itself +appears to be quite simply a parody, in this case of opera in the form +of a work mixing dialogue and song in a manner similar to but much +wilder than Gay's _Beggar's Opera_. Johnson's apparent takeoff on the +heroics of opera managed to include in its attack a commentary upon the +absurdity of contemporary tragedy as well as some specific references to +those works that aimed at the sublime. Lines like "This World is all a +Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav'd with Diamonds" (48) seem to call the +very nature of metaphor into question, especially when juxtaposed with +other delirious lines such as "Rapture is the Egg of Love, hatched +by a radiant Eye" (14) or by songs such as that sung by the king on +contemplating the effects of swallowing gunpowder and brandy together: + + Then Lightning from the Nostrils flies. + Swift Thunder-bolts from Anus, and the Mouth will break, + With Sounds to pierce the Skies, and make the Earth to quake. + (P. 42) + +_Hurlothrumbo_ may be mostly nonsense, but from the standpoint of +literary history, it is highly significant nonsense. It represented a +revolt against all dramatic conventions and shared a number of qualities +with graffiti, including the sense of spontaneity. + +Had Johnson's intention been something as relatively uncomplicated as +literary parody he would have achieved some minor fame in a century +which could boast any number of geniuses who had specialized in deriding +the pretentiousness of the more established literary forms, particularly +tragedy, the epic, and the pastoral. But Johnson of Cheshire lacked the +aesthetic distance required of sustained irony and had a grander purpose +in mind. His tradition was not that of the parodist but rather that of +the visionary--the mystic whose tendency is to merge the high and the +low, the sublime and the absurd, within a single work.[7] He was not +attacking the extravagant rants of the heroic play as Fielding was to do +in his _Tragedy of Tragedies_ (1731) or reflecting on opera and pastoral +as Gay had done in _The Beggar's Opera_ (1728); rather he was trying, +however unsuccessfully, to maintain his own work at the highest reaches +of sublimity. He was like one of Pope's "_Flying Fishes_," who "now and +then rise upon their fins and fly out of the Profound; but their wings +are soon dry, and they drop down to the bottom."[8] + + [Footnote 7: See Martin Pops, "The Metamorphosis of Shit," + _Salmagundi_ 56 (1982): 27-61.] + + [Footnote 8: Alexander Pope, _Peri Bathous_, in _Literary Criticism + of Alexander Pope_, ed. Bertrand A. Goldgar (Lincoln: University of + Nebraska Press, 1965), 54.] + +In his preface to _The Blazing Comet; or the Beauties of the Poets_ +(1732), Johnson of Cheshire noted that "the same thought that makes the +Fool laugh, may make the wise Man sigh" (ix). Given such an equivocal +approach to the ways in which the audience responded to his work, the +poet could easily shrug off audience laughter to his most "Sublime" +lines. He was always ready "to leap up in Extasy; and dip ... [his] Pen +in the Sun" (iv). Parts of _Hurlothrumbo_, particularly the scene +between Lady Flame and Wildfire (both of whom are described in the list +of characters as "mad") in which Wildfire threatens to cast off his +clothes and "run about stark naked" (48), bear an odd resemblance to +"The King's Cameleopard" in _Huckleberry Finn_. But the disconnected +verbal structure, along with the music and dancing, achieves a strange +mixture that must have amused and, to a certain extent, bemused its +audience. + +Johnson called upon "Variety" as his most important artistic principle, +and he developed his ideas on this subject in _A Vision of Heaven_ +(1738), a work which bears a striking resemblance to William Blake's +_The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_.[9] Johnson argues that all surface +appearances are merely a form of "Hieroglyphic" concealing a true vision +of things (6). His narrator is capable of what Blake was to call "mental +flight," and there is a particularly vivid passage in which the stars +are seen as throwing down "freezing Daggers" at the poor starving +children in the streets and another in which we encounter an aged woman +who wields a broom against spiders and against all the young women who +threaten to come near the narrator (26).[10] The mystic temperament is +often capable of making connections between the spiritual and the +excremental,[11] between the sublime and the bathos of "Thunder-bolts +from Anus." Blake, we should recall, has poems depicting himself +defecating.[12] + + [Footnote 9: Without suggesting that Blake may have known of + Johnson's work, I would nevertheless note the similarity of certain + sections. Like Blake, Johnson mingled comedy and satire in his + vision.] + + [Footnote 10: Compare Blake's "The Mental Traveler," _The Poetry and + Prose of William Blake_, ed. David Erdman and Harold Bloom (Garden + City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970), 476-77.] + + [Footnote 11: See Pops, 31.] + + [Footnote 12: Blake, _Poetry and Prose_, 491.] + +Whether Johnson actually collected _The Merry-Thought_ or not, the +reasons for the association of these volumes with his name should then +be clear enough. While Fielding might appropriate the title "Scriblerus +Secundus" by way of staking out a line of descent for his humor and +satire, Hurlothrumbo was so thoroughly connected with Johnson and his +play that I can see no reason why he should not be considered the likely +editor of such a varied and eccentric collection of verse and prose as +_The Merry-Thought_. That the "Variety" bears no resemblance to that of +serious art, however, should be as obvious as the difference between a +William Blake and a Samuel Johnson of Cheshire. As William Hogarth was +to remark, "variety uncomposed, and without design is confusion and +deformity."[13] + + [Footnote 13: _The Analysis of Beauty_, ed. Joseph Burke (Oxford: + Clarendon Press, 1955), 35.] + +Of course, miscellanies by their very nature are likely to be organized +according to principles of variety. What makes _The Merry-Thought_ +different from those appealing to polite taste is the wide swings of +emotion that prompt the writers of these poems and catch the compiler's +fancy. As we have seen, the verses themselves vary from the grossest +comments on shit to the most passionate expressions of love. That the +one is likely to appear on the walls of latrines and the other to be cut +in glass by a diamond is part of what Johnson would have called the +"Hieroglyphic" significance of this collection. In Johnson's plays, +there is the odd mixture of vulgarity and sublimity, the comic and the +serious, the satirical and the nonsensical. If his dramas bear a +resemblance to Jarry's _Ubu Roi_, so _The Merry-Thought_ resembles the +kind of anthology that Jarry might have put together to illustrate the +absurd anarchy of the human spirit. Johnson, on the other hand, regarded +this seeming anarchy of human thoughts and feelings optimistically as an +emblem of human spirituality. + +_University of California,_ + + _Los Angeles_ + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + +Part 2 ("The SECOND EDITION") and Part 3 of _The Merry-Thought_ are +reproduced in photographic facsimile from the copies in the William +Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *PR1195/H8H9/1731). They are +bound together with Part 1 ("the Third Edition; with very Large +Additions and Alterations"), which was published as ARS 216 in 1982. +A typical type page (pt. 2. p. 7) measures 154 x 87 mm. Part 4 is +reproduced from the copy in the Bodleian Library, Oxford (Shelf Mark: +Douce T. 168[5]). + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are inserted several curious Pieces from both + Universities. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART II. + + The SECOND EDITION. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ The Editor returns his hearty Thanks to those Gentlemen who have +favoured him with their Letters, and intreats that they will be so good +as to continue to communicate whatever they shall meet with of this Kind +to the Publisher. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART II. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +You will pardon the Editor that he does not put Things better in Order; +but he is so engaged in reading the Letters sent him in from the two +Universities, after the Publication of the First Part, that he believes +the Preface is in the Middle of the Book; but I dare swear you'll find +it somewhere or other, and so read on. + + +_In _Trinity-College_ Bogs._ + + Ye _Cantabs_ mind when ye are sh - - t - - ng, + How nearly 'tis allied to Writing. + ----To Writing, say you? ----pray how so? + An uncouth Simile, I trow. + + ----Hold, pray ---- Condemn it not untry'd; + Hear only how it is apply'd. + + As learned _Johnian_ wracks his Brain---- + Thinks, ----hems, ----looks wise, ----then thinks again;---- + When all this Preparation's done, + The mighty Product is ---- a Pun. + + So some with direful strange Grimaces, + Within this Dome distort their Faces; + Strain, ----squeeze, ----yet loth for to depart, + Again they strain--for what? a Fart. + + Hence _Cantabs_ take this moral Trite, + 'Gainst Nature, if ye think or sh - - te; + Use all the Labour, all the Art, + 'Twill ne'er exceed a Pun, or Fart. + + +_Red-Lion, Egham._ + + Coquets will always merry prove; } + But Prudes are those _give down their love_; } + And love and move, and move to love. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Prude for my Money, by G - - d. + + T. S. 1711. + + +_Written on the Looking-Glass of Mr. T - - p - - n, + Fellow-Commoner of Trinity-College, Cambridge._ + +_Imago in Speculo loquitur ad T - - p - - n._ + + I. + + Thou pretty little fluttering Thing, + That mak'st this gaudy Shew; + Thou senseless Mimick of a Man, + Thou Being, call'd a Beau. + + + II. + + Like me thou art an empty Form, + Like me alone, thou'rt made; + Like me delusive seem'st a Man, + But only art a Shade. + + +_Tuns in Cambridge, Window facing a certain Alderman's in the Market._ + + Is _Molly Fr----_ immortal? ----No. + She is; and I will prove her so. + She's fifteen now, and was, I know, + Fifteen, full fifteen Years ago. + + +_Underwritten._ + + The Fates from Heaven late came Post; + And thus address'd this _Cambridge_ Toast. + + Say happy Maid that can detain + Old hoary Time in fetter'd Chain, + What wouldst thou have to set him free, + And give thy captive Liberty? + + Miss _Molly_ call'd Mamma aside, + ---- Whisper'd awhile, then thus reply'd; + + Upon my Life, all I would have + From _Victor_ is to be a Slave; + I'll soon untie this Captive's Hands; + ---- Tie me but fast in _Hymen_'s Bands. + + +_On the Same on another Pane._ + + At Home Miss _Molly_'s scarce fifteen. + Mamma says she's no more; + But if the Parish-Book says true, + Miss _Molly_'s thirty four. + Poor Miss _Molly_! + + +_Wrote on Cor---- Cr----d's (a Printer and Bookseller in Cambridge) + Window in the Shop._ + + Ye longing Sophs, say it who can, + That _Corny_'s not a learned Man. + He knows well each Edition, Sir, + Of _Aldus_, and of _Elzevir_; + Of _Beza_ he profoundly reasons, + And talks jocose of _Harry Stephens_. + Though (says a Wag) all this I grant, + Yet _Corny_ sure must Learning want. + How so? ----It's plain, (if that we may + B'lieve what Men of themselves do say,) + For _Corny_'s openly* confess'd. + He's but a Blockhead at the best. + + * _Corny_, in Printing a _Latin_ Book, censur'd by the University, + was forced to plead _Ignoramus_ to save his Bacon. + + +_Another in the Shop, on C----'s Title Page_ + +LEARNING. + + Within this learn'd Receptacle of Arts, + _Corny_, if ask'd, on each can shew his Parts; + Alike a _Newton_, or a _Ratcliffe_ prove; + A _Coke_ in Law----an _Etheridge_ in Love.-- + Reason profound----in Hist'ry state each Fact, + Teach{~DAGGER~} _London_ how to think, or _Walpole_ how to act. + + O say from whence should all this Learning come.---- + From whence?----from each dead Sage around the Room. + + If _Corny_ thence his Fund of Learning draws, + How great his Skill in Politicks or Laws? ---- + How deeply read? ---- how vast his learned Store? ---- + ---- When ---- past the Title, all his Learning's o'er. + + {~DAGGER~} Bishop. + + +_Another in the Same._ + + Is _Corny_'s Learning much; my Friends; + Since where it does begin, ---- it ends? + + +_From a Window in Ardenham-House, Hertfordshire._ + + As glass obdurate no Impression takes, + But what the radiant piercing Diamond makes; + Just so my Heart all other Pow'rs defies, + But those of fair _Venilla_'s brilliant Eyes. + + +_Written in a Lady's Dressing Room._ + + _Brunetta_, I grant you, can give her Swain Death; + But 'tis not with her Eyes, but with her - - ill Breath. + + +_From a Window in the Inner Temple-Hall._ + + Come hither, Barristers of Dress, + That once your Lips may meet Success: + From _Rufus_' filthy Hall withdraw; + Here only ye can live by Law. + + +_A Rebus on Lady of Quality, on a Glass at the Old Devil Tavern._ + + What fly from her Eyes, and the Place whither I + Must soon be convey'd to, unless she comply, + Is the Name of the Beauty for whom I could die. + + _N. B._ Darts and _Shafts_ fly from her Eyes, and if one dies, + one must be _bury_'d. + + +_Under the Rebus on Lady Sh - - - bury, at the Devil Tavern, is this;_ + + What opens a Door, and a Word of Offence, + Tell the Name of a Nymph of Wit, Beauty, and Sense. + + Supposed to be for Miss _Ke - ly_. + + +_From the Window of a Chamber in the Inner Temple._ + + For dear _Venilla_ in my Arms, + I'd scorn all other female Charms; + Ten thousand Beauties she can spare, + And still be _Fairest_ of the _Fair_. + + +_From innumerable Windows._ + + Like _Mars_ I'll fight, like _Antony_ I'll love, + I'll drink like _Bacchus_, and I'll whore like _Jove_. + + +_From the Apollo, the large Dancing-Room in the Devil Tavern, written + when some were engaged in a particular Country-Dance._ + + This Dance foretells that Couple's Life, + Who mean to dance as Man and Wife; + As here, they'll first with Vigour set, + Give Hands, and turn whene'er they meet; + But soon will quit their former Track, + Cast off and end in Back to Back. + + +_From the Angel Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + 'Tis hard! 'tis wonderous hard! + That the Life of a Man + Should be but a Span, + And that of a Woman a Yard! + + +_From a Watch-Maker's Window, Fleet-Street._ + + Here Time is bought and sold: 'Tis plain, my Friend, + My Clocks and Watches shew what I intend; + For you I Time correct, + My Time I spend; + By Time I live, + But not one Inch will lend, + Except you pay the ready down or send: + I trust no Time, + Unless the Times do mend. + + +_On a Watch-Case in a Gentleman's Pocket, given him by a Lady._ + + The Wretched pray to make more Haste, + The Happy say we fly too fast; + Therefore impossible to know, + Whether I go too fast or slow. + + S. M. + + +_At Hollyhead, I suppose, written by some Creation-Mender._ + + Arra, now what signifies the making the two great Lights? + The Sun to light the Day, and the Moons to light the Nights: + For the Sun in the Day-Time there is no Occasion, + Because I can see very well after my Persuasion: + But for the Moons, they are very good in a dark Night, + Because when we cannot see they give us a Light. + + +_Crown at Harlow._ + + Rail at your Father, rail at your Mother, + Rail at your Sister, rail at your Brother, + Rail on, my Boys, and rail at one another. + +_Underwritten._ + + Rail as you say, and you'll be all railed in. + + +_Written upon the Wall of Clements-Inn, when the Dial was put up + which is supported by a black Slave in a kneeling Posture._ + + In vain poor sable Son of Woe, + Thou seek'st a tender Ear; + In vain thy Tears with Anguish flow, + For Mercy dwells not here: + From Cannibals thou fly'st in vain, + Lawyers less Quarter give; + The first won't eat you till you're slain, + The last will do't alive. + + +_Hampstead on a Window._ + + I am a Dog ---- + In true Fidelity + I am a Sun ---- + In faithful Constancy: + I am a Stote, ---- + To please a lustful Lass; + I am a Hog, ---- + And you may kiss my A----se. + But if my _Celia_ comes within my Ken; + Then I shall be again like other Men. + + +_On another at the same Place._ + + My Wife says, Whither do you go? + And I return, my dear, I do not know; + Then d----n your Blood, says she, to use me thus; + And then I call her catterwauling Puss. + + +_Hampton-Court, at the Mitre._ + + A Ramp of very noted Name, + I need not say, for all Men know her Fame, + Lascivious, as the human Race could be, + She could not see a Man, but fell in Extasy. + + +_On a dyer's Sign at Southwark._ + + I die to live, + I live to die, + And hope to live eternally. + + +_At the Star at Coventry._ + + A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, + She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: + By the Lord, cries _She_ then, if my Husband e'er come, + Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, + I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; + And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. + + S. M. 1708. + + +_By Desire not to insert the Place._ + + What care I for Mistress May'ress; + She's little as the Queen of Fairies: + Her little Body like my Thumb, + Is thicker far than _other some_; + Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide; } + Either on this, or t'other Side, } + That none could tell when they did ride. } + + +_Underwritten._ + + Swim for thy Life, dear Boy, for I can feel neither Bottom nor Sides. + + +_In Pencil upon a Wall in a Tavern near Covent-Garden._ + + I become all Things to all Men, to gain some, or I must have starved. + + _Moll. Friskey._ + + +_Star-Inn at Coventry._ + + _Molly_ the gay, the black, the friskey, + Would kiss like any wanton Gipsey; + Nor was her Mouth alone the Case, + A Man of Worth might kiss her A----se. + + +_At a Tavern at the Royal Exchange._ + + I've now a Coach and Six before me, + Each female court'sies to adore me: + But from my dearest I can't part, + Without returning her my Heart: + Tell her I am gone a Month or longer, + While she may gain more Love, and I grow stronger. + + _S. M. Oct._ 17. 1720. + + +_From a Tavern in Fleet-Street._ + + I'll drink like _Bacchus_, and I'll fight like _Mars_, + The Kind I'll love, the Cross may kiss my A - - se. + + +_In the same Room in a Woman's Hand._ + + Since cruel Fate has robb'd me of the Youth, + For whom my Heart had hoarded all its Truth, + I'll ne'er love more, dispairing e'er to find, + Such Constancy and Truth amongst Mankind. + + _Feb._ 18, 1725. + +_Underwritten._ + + I kiss'd her the next Night, and she's one of the _Walkers_ Family. + + _Feb._ 18. 1725. + + +_Dublin in a Window in Castle-Street._ + + O mortal Man that's made of Clay, + Is here to-Morrow, and is gone to Day. + + +_In a Bog-House at Hampstead._ + + There's Nothing foul that we commit, + But what we write, and what we sh - - t. + + +_Three-Pigeons at Brentford._ + + Wer't not for _Whims_, Candles, and Carrots + Young Fellows Things might ride in Chariots. + + _Tom Long, July_ 17. + +_Underwritten._ + + Heaven for all those Helps to Nature, + Or else poor P---- could get no Quarter. + + +_Letter on a Window at Stony-Stratford, to Miss Mary V - - d - - le._ + + We shall B in better Q, + When U have I, and I have U. + + T. M. 1720 + + +_From a Window in Hell, near Westminster-Hall._ + + Old _Orpheus_ tickled his Harp so well, + That he tickled _Eurydice_ out of Hell, + With a Twing come Twang, and a Twing come Twang; but, + Some say _Euridice_ was a Scold + Therefore the Devil of her took hold, + With a Twing come Twang, &c. + + S. S. 1714. + + +_Underwritten._ + + If my Wife had been e'er in the Devil's Hands, } + You know it would loose all other Bands, } + And I should been pleased with House and Lands. } + + F. R. 1718. + + +PREFACE. + +_From a Paper found in the Street at Twelve at Night, 1708. near + Covent-Garden. Argument concerning a Greek Opera that was to have + been set on Foot, when People liked to see and hear Operas first + in Italian._ + +As Languages are introduced among us Christian People daily that we +do not understand, by Way of _Italian_ Opera, _&c._ why may we not +entertain the Publick with a little _Greek_, as natural as Pigs +squeak.-- + + _And for _Latin_, 'tis no more dificile, + Than for a Blackbird 'tis to whistle._ Hud. + +I love dearly to quote my Authors. + +I have been with both the Play-Houses, and one says d----n it, it won't +do; and t'other says, Z----ds it will not take; then says I to myself, +I'll have a _Greek_ Opera, by G - - d; and with this Resolution I set +about it, and made a Specimen, and so went with it in a Chair to the +Opera-House, to give it the better Grace. But that would not do neither; +for one did not understand _Greek_; nor t'other did not understand +_Greek_; and _Italian_ was all in Vogue: And I did not understand that; +and so we could make no Bargain, and I returned Home. + +Z----ds, thinks I, if I don't understand their barbarous Language, must +I let them have any Thing of my ancient Language? No, Messieurs! I'll +let my Opera remain in its Infancy, and you shall curse yourselves +before you have it compleat; but that you shall know what Fools you have +been, I'll stick a Needle through my Nose, that you may look sharp; and +then you will say, why did not US take it, for in the first Scene I saw +all the Audience laugh. But to the Point, _i.e._ the second Preamble or +Argument, + + +OPERA. + +Scene is the City of _Athens_, and an old Woman lives in a hollow Tree, +where she sells Gin and Gingerbread to the Grenadiers; her Name is +Gammer _Hocus_. Then there comes a Goddess, who sells Butter and Eggs at +_Athens_ Market, upon her Uncle's bald Mare; and as the Mare is a +stumbling Jade, so she falls down before _Hocus_'s Tree, and hurts her +Rump, and then we begin. + +_N. B._ When the Goddess _Cinderaxan_ falls down before Gammer _Hocus_'s +Door, or Tree, she begins in _Ricitativo_----_Greek_ Fashion. + + _O! mega mar, hocus the baldmare has cantedme ontoss; + * Philladram sukami, some Spirit offerme to suckon. + Dear _Hokey_ behasty, forbum sufferssore by a Thumpon't; + No baldmare my Gammon shall contuseagain by one moretoss._ + + * Fill. + +_English'd_ thus for the Benefit of the Ladies, though 'tis much the +same in the _Greek_. + + _O my Gammer _Hocus_, the bald Mare has canted me one Toss; + Fill a Dram, sick am I, some Spirit offer me to suck on. + Dear _Hokey_ be hasty, for Bum suffers sore by a Thump on't. + No bald Mare my Gammon shall contuse again by one more Toss._ + +Then out comes Gammer _Hocus_, when the Goddess had called for a Dram in +the second Line, and sings with an Air, seeing her Goddessship as dirty +as the Devil. + + __Cinderaxan_'s sablehew'd Aspect,---- + Fulloffun, though the Doxey can seemcoy._ + +And here we leave off. Is not the Devil in the People, that they will +not encourage a good Thing, when they have it before them. + + +_Crown at Uxbridge,_ 1708. + +_An Acrostick upon something or other._ + + Commodious for a Haven made, + Under a rising Bank, + Nature has fix'd a Place of Trade, + To Men of any Rank. + +_Underwritten._ + + Riddle my ree, _&c._ + And read the four first Letters, and you'll see. + + _R. M._ + +_A Man hanging for Love, drawn when Painting was in its Cradle, with his + Dog barking at him, _viva voce_. From the three Pigeons at Brentford._ + + [Illustration] + +The Occasion of this dangling Story, was from a Lady who hated him, and +set him about it. + + Go hang thyself, quoth cruel She, + Go hang thyself I say. + The Man obey'd her presently, + And made himself away. _Mary Worthless._ + +The Criticks do not make out whether he _walk'd_ off, or _went_ off, +neither does the Figure determine which. + + Hang me, if I will _hang_ for any Woman, + For most of them alike are very common; + I'd sooner trudge as I have done before, + Than hang upon a d----d confounded Whore. + +_Underwritten._ + + No Matter if the Man is longer than the Gallows, + He smokes and drinks his Glass like honest Fellows. + + +_Upon a Drinking-Glass at Charing-Cross._ + + _Nanny Sach----l_ is all my Toast; + She's all I wish for, and is all my Boast. + + +_Egham, at the Red Lion._ + + Help me, ye Pow'rs, to sing my _Sylvia_'s Praise; + Nor _P - - pe_ nor _Sw - - ft_ can do it now a-days. + But you, nor I, or them, can ever boast, } + There ever was in _Europe_ such a Toast; } + All we can say, is, _Lucy_ rules the Roast. } + + +_At a Place not to be recorded._ + + A d - - - d confounded Bitch, + Ugly and cunning as a Witch. + Her Bill shall be preferr'd by Law; + The House we wish we'd never saw. + One Pound five and ten Pence; + Grant her Repentance; + We'll never come here again; + And let her alone remain. + + J. S. + R. S. 17 July. + 1722. very truly. + + + I do not complain of my _Phillis_, + Because I know what her proud Will is; + For I know how she'll rant, + And I know what I want; + G - - d d - - - n her old Aunt; + I stand here, and wait for her, THAT _still is_. + + +_On a beautiful Sempstress, in a Window at Charing-Cross._ + + _Dolly_, with Beauty and Art, + Has so hemm'd in my Heart, + That I cannot resist the Charm. + In Revenge I will stitch + Up the Hole near her Breach, + With a Needle as long as my Arm. + + R. + + +_Two Girls at a Bar, that would do't, and one Gentleman would + chatter too long._ + + What the Devil should we meddle + With diddle daddle, fiddle faddle; + We shall lose the Girls that please; + Go to Bed, and take your Ease. + + M. C. to his Friend. + +_Underwritten._ + + I know they'll ease you both, for I have been aboard of them. + + R. C. + + I shall tell best at the next Meeting: + The Proof of the Pudding is in the eating. + + +_Blue Posts, Charing-Cross._ + + Use me friendly, use me kind; + I'll be the kindest of my Sex; + I'll love, be constant, and you'll find, + I'll be your own in _Middlesex_. + + _Molly Sh----r._ + +_Underwritten._ + + Take care you keep her Country to yourself. + + M. L. + + +_Red Lion at Egham._ + + I _watch_ and _pray_ for dearest _Nancy_, + Because I always love her Fancy; + But then there comes, + Like Bailiff Bums, + The _Watch_ with Lights we _can see_; + And then she'll pray, + And I must pay, + And retreat as clean as a Tansey. + +_Underwritten._ + + For Money one may whore, + And I'll say no more.---- + + R. T. + + +_At the same Place._ + + I am a young Thing, just come from my Mammy. + + S. L. + +_Underwritten_ + + Then you want to be kiss'd, G - - d d - - - n ye. + + Captain R. T. + + +_Bull-and-Mouth-Street._ + + If Virtue rules the Minds of Women, + They'll never let you touch their Linnen; + But if they are not Virtue Proof, + Then you may kiss them oft enough. + + +_Uxbridge, at the Crown._ + + _Molley_ came up to Town precise, + Demure, yet fire in her Eyes; + So did she look confounded civil; + With Grace and Beauty like a Devil; + But soon her Eyes drew in some Hearts, } + And some _Things else_ like _Cupid_'s Darts, } + Which gave her Pains, and many Smarts. } + +_Underwritten._ + + Thou Puppy, ---- + The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart, + And drew the Fire to her lower Part. + + _R. L._ + + +_From the same Place._ + + After a tedious Journey, and my Supper, + And dam----d uneasy with my Crupper, + _Jenney_ came up to warm my Bed, } + A pretty Girl; but I was dead, } + Or else I'd had her Maidenhead. } + + _R. T._ + + +_Swan at Uxbridge._ + + Who's been here, + The Devil I fear; + For he's left the Bottles clear. + + _R. Est----n_, 1710. + +_Underwritten._ + + 'Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle. + + _G. S._ 1711. + + +_Boghouse at Uxbridge._ + + If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink, + You may say, if you will, it is natural _Instinct_. + +_Underwritten._ + +You may quibble upon the Word _Instinct_, if you will; but I think 'tis +better out than in, considering the Case. + + _I. M._ of _Oxon._ + + +_Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in Drury-Lane, on a + Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal._ + + Grant us good lusty Men, ye gracious Pow'rs! + Or else stop up those craving Things of ours! + + +_From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near Cripplegate, written + upon a Wall._ + + Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal, + Will make a T d more lasting; + Therefore I think he is a Fool, + That goes out in a Morning fasting. + + _Tom. Rudge._ + +We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast. + + When I lay with my bouncing _Nell_, + I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell: + But I think in this Case it was damnable hard, + When I gave her an Inch, she'd want more than a Yard. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + +Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, _says one of the +Greek Philosophers_. + + +_Hoxton, on a Wall._ + + What Difference between Kings T - - - ds and mine? + One may be costive, one be full of Slime; + Yet equally will any Hog that feeds, + Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs. + +_Underwritten._ + + You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself. + + +_Hampstead, at the Flask._ + + Tell me why, ye gen'rous Swains? + Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains? + Why does _Sylvia_ leave the Green? + Has she done any Thing obscene? + They all reply'd, Your _Sylvia_'s gone; + For she will do't with ev'ry one. + + +_From the Red Lyon at Egham._ + + She that thinks upon her Honour, + Needs no other Guard upon her. + +_Underwritten._ + + She that has a Man upon her, + Never thinks upon her Honour. + + +_In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin._ + + You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use, + Pray lick 'em clean, and don't this Wall abuse. + +_Under which is written;_ + + These House-of-Office Poets, by the L - - - d, + Instead of Laurel, should be crown'd with T - - - d. + + +_In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the Road to West + Chester._ + + Host! wou'd you paint your Crosses to the Life, + Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife. + + +_On A Window at Canbury-House._ + + The Breast of ev'ry _British_ Fair, + Like this bright, brittle, slippery Glass, + A Diamond makes Impression there, + Though on the Finger of an Ass. + + +_On a Person of Quality's Boghouse._ + + Good Lord! who could think, + That such fine Folks should stink? + + +_On a Window at Bushy-Hall, Hertfordshire._ + + Love is like Blindman's Buff, where we pursue, + We know not what we catch, we know not who; + And when we grasp our Wish, what Prize is won? + Our Eyes are open'd, and the Play is done. + + +_Some Love Verses being first written on a Window in Brook-Street, and + scratched out, occasioned the following:_ + + Good grave Papa, you hope in vain, + By blotting this to mend her; + She who writes Love upon the Pane, + Will soon leap out at Window. + + +_On the Middle Temple Boghouse._ + + Well sung of Yore, a Bard of Wit, + That some Folks read, but all Folks sh - - - t; + But now the Case is alter'd quite, + Since all who come to Boghouse write. + + +_On the same Place._ + + Because they cannot eat, some Authors write; + And some, it seems, because they cannot sh - - te. + + +_On a Glass at the Devil Tavern, Temple-Bar._ + + The stubborn Glass no Character receives, + Except the Stamp the piercing Brilliant gives. + A female Heart thus no Impression takes, + But what the Lover tipp'd with Diamond makes. + + +_At Launder's Coffee-House, in the Old Play-House Passage._ + + Dear _Pat_, 'tis vain to patch or paint, + Since still a fragrant Breath you want; + For though well furnish'd, yet all Folks + Despise a Room whose Chimney smokes. + + +_White-Hart at Watford._ + +Parody of four Lines of _Dryden_. + + Glass with a Diamond does our Wit betray; + Who can write sure on that smooth slippery Way? + Pleas'd with our scribling we cut swiftly on, + And see the Nonsense, which we cannot shun. + + +_In a Window at the Kings-Arms Tavern, Fleet-Street._ + + Both mine and Women's Fate you'll judge from hence ill, + That we are pierc'd by ev'ry Coxcomb's Pencil. + + +_Written in a Window at a private House, by a desponding Lover in the + Presence of his Mistress._ + + This Glass, my Fair's the Emblem of your Mind, + Which brittle, slipp'ry, pois'nous oft we find. + + +_Her Answer underneath._ + + I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, + Can't prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. + + +_Sent by an unknown Hand._ + + O ye Powers above! + Who of Mortals take Care, + Make Women less cruel, + More fond, or less fair. + Was _Helen_ half so fair, so form'd for Joy, + Well fought the _Trojan_, and well burnt was _Troy_. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. Amongst which + are intermixed the Lucubrations of the polite Part + of the World, written upon Walls in Bog-houses, _&c._ + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamey, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethlehem-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + +PART III. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +THE + +PREFACE. + + +This is purposely to acknowledge the Obligations I owe to several +Gentlemen, who have shewn their Esteem of the MERRY THOUGHT, in the +large Collections they have communicated before the Holidays: For who +knows, but many of their Pieces might have been lost, by the Effects of +Wine, Punch, and strong Beer, in the _Christmas_ Time; or by a Game at +Ramps, or Blind-Man's-Buff; or unlucky Boys; or the sticking the Windows +with Holley and Ivy: All these Hazards did we run of having many curious +Pieces destroy'd, and bury'd in Oblivion. And then again, the Cleaning +the Windows against the Holidays might have endanger'd the Loss of many +of these brittle Leaves of Wit and Learning. But now, we may sing _Old +Rose_, since a large Cargoe is already arriv'd safe at the Press. In +order for a third Part, I have myself taken Care to visit most of the +Glasiers in Town where I just came Time enough to save some few Scraps +of Wit; and have bribed a great Number of Football-Players, not to use +that Diversion near some particular Places about this Great City, where +many curious Epigrams, Sonnets, and Whims, are at present uncopy'd; and +if they should escape a few Days longer, will make a fourth Volume, with +the kind Assistance of those Correspondents who have sent me promissory +Notes for the Delivery of certain Parcels of such Wit, on or about the +Twenty-fifth of this Instant _January_. I remain, Gentlemen, after +hoping you are in good Health, as I am at this present Writing, and +wishing you all many happy Years, + + _Your obliged humble Servant,_ + + HURLO THRUMBO. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + +PART III. + +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, + a Place 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. + + _Oct._ 27, 1722. + +_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. + + _Dec._ 1722. + + +_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. + + I. S. 1718. + + +_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. + + T. B. + +_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. + + _Feb._ 13, 1720. + + +_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. + + L. 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. + + R. S. + + +_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. + + _Anne S----te._ + + +_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-Cl - ps, and After-Cl - ps, 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. + + _R. G----ll._ + + +_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._ + + R. F. + + +_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. } + + Captain R. T. 1718. + + +_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. + + R. T. 1718. + + +_Rue D'Auphine, at Paris._ + + O Quelle Grand Traison! + Les Couillions que je porte + Lors que leur Maitre 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 in it._ + + +_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. + + _Le H----p._ + + +_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. + + _Probatum est_, W. T. + + +_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. + + 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. + + 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. + + _E. K._ + + +_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. + + Capt. _T. R._ 1730. + + +_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. } + + +_The galloping Song, from Newmarket, in the Compass of the Flute._ + +[Illustration: Music] + + Buxom _Joan_ got on a bald Mare; + she rid ramping on to The Fair, + with a Whip and Spur. + Such jogging, such flogging, + Such splashing, such dashing, + was ne'er seen there. + Jolly _Tom_, cry'd out as she Come, + thou Monkey Face, Punkey Face, + lousey Face, Frouzey Face, + hold thy Hand, Make a Stand, + thou'lt be down. + No Sooner _Tom._ spoke, but Down comes _Joan_, + with her Head and Bum up and down, + So that her A----se was shown. + Bald Mare ran galloping all the Way home. + + +_Temple, in a Gentleman's Chambers._ + + When _Phillis_ wore her brightest Face, + All Men rejoic'd in every Grace: + Her Patch, her Mein, her Forward Chin, + Cry'd, Gentlemen, Pray who'll come in: + But now her Wrinkles are come on her, } + All Men who ever were upon her, } + Cry out, a Fart upon her Honour. } + + _C. M._ + + +_On a Wall, at a School in Norwich. In Dog Latin._ + + _J. Jackson_ currit _plenum sed_ + Et laesit meum _magnum ad_. + + _R. L._ + +_The English Translation, Word for Word._ + + _J. Jackson_ run _full-butt_, + And hurt my _Great Toe_. + + +_Written on the Door of two celebrated Milliners._ + + Within this Place + Lives _Minerva_ and _Grace_, + An Angel hangs out at the Door; + If you rise in the Night, + And call for a Light, + Then presently down comes a Wh----. + + +_Angel, at Marlborough. Upon Miss M - - k._ + + Her Step delivers those her Eyes enslave, + She looks to conquer, but she treads to save. + + +_From a Window at Kidderminster, Worcestershire._ + +_A Scrap of a Lady's Life._ + + When first she wakes, a Sigh or two she fetches, + Then rubs her Eyes,----and Arms and Legs she stretches! + Oh! for a Husband, out she gently cries, + If he were here,----he would not let me rise; + But I must up, for Fear my Love should stay, + And we should be too late at the new Play. + Here, _Jenny_, reach my Slippers, bring the Pot; + Then out she jumps, and down she gives a Squat, + I think I need not tell you what to do, + And then she lets a merry Crack or two. + + W. Overb - - ry. + + +_Bog-House at Ludlow._ + + Two pitiful Dukes at our Race did appear; + One bespoke him a Girl, the other new Geer, + And both went away without paying I hear, + For the Cheat lov'd his Money, and so did the Peer. + +_Underwritten._ + + You Rogue, Taylor shan't catch me, while your Legs they are cross'd. + Don't cry, my dear Girl, since you have got more than you lost. + + +_FINIS._ + + + + + The + + MERRY-THOUGHT: + + or, the + + Glass-Window and Bog-House + + MISCELLANY. + + Taken from + + The Original Manuscripts written in _Diamond_ + by Persons of the first Rank and Figure in _Great + Britain_; relating to Love, Matrimony, Drunkenness, + Sobriety, Ranting, Scandal, Politicks, Gaming, + and many other Subjects, _Serious_ and _Comical_. + + Faithfully Transcribed from the Drinking-Glasses and + Windows in the several noted _Taverns_, _Inns_, and + other _Publick Places_ in this Nation. + + _Published by_ HURLO THRUMBO. + + _Gameyorum, Wildum, Gorum, + Gameyorum a Gamy, + Flumarum a Flumarum, + A Rigdum Bollarum + A Rigdum, for a little Gamey._ + + Bethleham-Wall, Moor-Fields. + + + PART IV. + + _LONDON_: + + Printed for J. ROBERTS in _Warwick-Lane_; and Sold by + the Booksellers in Town and Country. [Price 6 _d._] + + + + +_N. B._ There being a great Number of these Pieces of Wit and Humour at +most Places of publick Resort in this Kingdom, it is hoped that all, who +are pleased with, or willing to promote this Design, will be so good as +to collect and send them to the Publisher hereof. The Editor does not +care how merry they are, provided they are not obscene. + + + + +THE + +MERRY-THOUGHT. + + +PART IV. + +To the EDITOR of the Glass-Window, _&c._ Miscellany. + + +_Mr._ BOG, + +Where Wit and Learning (as at present in this our Isle) so much abound, +great Marvel it is to me, That so worthy a Compiler of other Men's +Labours as yourself, should be put to the little mean Shifts of copying +from such _Cacascriptores_, who have from _Hudibras_, _Tom Brown_, and +others of the like Rank, their little Bits and Scraps, basely purloined, +whereby you run a Risque of being deem'd yourself a Plagiary: Nor is it +less unbecoming the Dignity and Fidelity of your Undertaking, to supply +the Want of Application and Diligence, by filling up your lifeless Pages +with Musical Punctations, as vile and unrelishing as ever echo'd from +your own natural Bagpipe. Therefore, that you may the better be enabled +these Indecencies equally to avoid, I send you the following +_Collectanea Nasutula_: If you honour them, I shall honour your next +Performance; if not, _Non cuicunque datum est habere nasum_. + + +_From a Boghouse near _Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_._ + +_The_ WISH. + + Oh! may our Senate, learn'd and great, + (In order to perpetuate + The tuneful Strains and witty Flights, + Of him that Studies while he sh - - ts) + Decree all Landlords, thro' the Nation, + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + In some meet Corner of their Dark Hole + A cuspidated Piece of Charcoal; + Or, where the Walls are cas'd with Wainscot, + A Piece of Chalk with equal Pains cut; + That those who labour at both Ends, + To ease themselves, and serve their Friends, + May not, reluctant, go from Sh - - t, + And leave no Relict of their Wit, + For want of necessary Tools + To impart the _Proles_ of their Stools: + Then _Cibber_'s Odes, and _Tindal_'s Sense, + _Caleb_ and _Henley_'s Eloquence, + _Woolston_, and all such learned Sophi's, + Would be cut down in House-of-Office: + _Oxford_ and _Cambridge_ too would join + Their Puns, to make the Boghouse shine + Each learn'd Society would try all + (From lowest Club, to that call'd Royal,) + To furnish something might improve + Religion, Politicks, or Love: + Grand _Keyber_, Gormogons, Free Masons, + And _Heydeger_, with all his gay Sons, + Would find to suit, with Lectures there, + Their Intellectuals to a Hair: + _Bodens_ might pick up Wit from thence, and lay + The _Drama_ of another Modish Play. + So wise a Law would doubtless tend + To prove our Senate, Learning's Friend; + Whilst Trade, and such like fond Chimeras, + Might wait more fit and leisure _AEra's._ + + +_From a Window at the _Dolphin_ Inn in _Southampton_._ + + The Wedding-Night past, says Sir _John_ to his Mate, + Faith Madam I'm bit (tho' I find it too late) + By your d - - - n'd little Mouth, or else I'm a Whore's Son, + For the Cross underneath's quite out of Proportion. + Good Sir _John_, says my Lady, then under the Rose, + I'm as bad bit as you, by your plaguy long Nose: + You have not by half so much as I wanted, + I've more than you want, yet y'are not contented. + + +_From the Playhouse Boghouse._ + + Good Folks, sh - - t and write, and mend honest Bog's Trade, + For when you sh - - t Rhymes, you help him to Bread: + He'el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + And fatten on what you here leave behind. + + +_From A Boghouse at the _White Hart_, Petersfield._ + + Were this Place to be view'd by a Herald of Note, + He would find a new Charge for the next new-bought Coat, + Which _Guillim_ ne'er thought of, nor one of the Herd, + _Viz._ a Wall erect Argent, _Gutte de T----d._ + And as a Reward, for improving the Art, + He should bear on a Fess (if he paints it) a F - - - t. + + +_Underwritten._ + + A Pox on your writing, I thought you were sh - - - - g, + My great Gut has giv'n me such Twitches: + Had you scribled much more, I'm a Son of a Whore, + If I should not have don't in my Breeches. + + +_From the _White Lyon_, _Bristol_._ + + I'm witty, I'll Write, + I'm valiant, I'll Fight, + And take all that's said in my own Sense: + In Liquor I'm sunk, + And confoundedly drunk, + So there is the Source of this Nonsense. + + +_From the same Place._ + + A Wretch, whom Fortune has been pleas'd to rowl + From the Tip-top of her enchanted Bowl, + Sate musing on his Fate, but could not guess, + Nor give a Reason for her Fickleness: + Such Thoughts as these would ne'er his Brain perplex, + Did he but once reflect upon her Sex: + For how could he expect, or hope to see, + In Woman either Truth or Constancy. + + +_Written on the Wall of one of the Summer-Houses in _Gray's-Inn_ Walks, + under a curious Piece of Drawing._ + + Come hither, Heralds, view this Coat, + 'Twill bear Examination, + 'Tis ancient, and derives its Note + From the first Pair's Creation. + The Field is _Luna_, _Mars_ a Pale, + Within an Orle of _Saturn_; + Charg'd with two Pellets at the Tail: + Pray take it for a Pattern. + +_Under-written._ + + I don't see your _Luna_, nor _Saturn_, nor _Mars_, + But I see her ---- plain, and I see his bare A - - se. + + +_From another Place in the same Walks._ + + Could fairest dear _Eliza_ know how much I love, + My Story might, at least, her gen'rous Pity move; + Her Pity's all my Hope, nor durst I more implore, + With that I still might live, and still her Charms adore. + +_Under-written._ + + Poor Wretch, alas! I pity Thee with all my heart, + Since that, it seems, alone will cure thy Love-sick Smart: + For he that has not Courage further to implore, + May surely have our Pity, but deserves no more. + + +_From a _Bog-House_ at the _George-Inn_ in _Whitchurch_._ + + From costive Stools, and hide-bound Wit, + From Bawdy Rhymes, and Hole besh - - t. + From Walls besmear'd with stinking Ordure, + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _Libera Nos_ ---- + + +_Upon a Pillar at the _Royal-Exchange_._ + + This City is a World that's full of Streets, + And Death's the Market-Place where Mankind meets; + If Life were Merchandize, that Men could buy, + The Rich would only live, the Poor must die. + + +_In the Window of a _Green-House_ near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sitting on yon Bank of Grass, + With a blooming buxom Lass; + Warm with Love, and with the Day, + We to cool us went to play. + Soon the _am'rous_ Fever fled, + But left a worse _Fire_ in its Stead. + Alas! that _Love_ should cause such Ills! + As doom to _Diet-Drink_ and _Pills_. + + +_An Encomium on a _Fart_._ + + I sing the Praises of a _Fart_. + That I may do't by Rules of _Art_. + I will invoke no _Deity_, + But _Butter'd-Pease_ and _Furmity_; + And think their Help sufficient + To sit and furnish my Intent: + For sure I must not use _high Strains_, + For fear it bluster out in _Grains_. + When _Virgil_'s _Gnat_, and _Ovid_'s _Flea_, + And _Homer_'s _Frogs_ strive for the Day; + There is no Reason in my Mind, + That a brave _Fart_ should come _behind_: + Since that you may it _parallel_, + With any Thing that doth _excel_. + _Musick_ is but a _Fart_ that's sent + From the _Guts_ of an _Instrument_: + The Scholar _farts_; but when he gains + Learning with _cracking_ of his Brains; + And having spent much Pain and Oil, + _Thomas_ and _Dun_ to reconcile, + For to learn the abstracting _Art_, + What does he get by't? Not a _Fart_. + The Soldier makes his Foes to run + With but the _Farting_ of a Gun; + That's if he make the _Bullet whistle_, + Else 'tis no better than a _Fizzle_: + And if withal the Winds do stir-up + Rain, 'tis but a _Fart_ in Syrrup. + They are but _Farts_, the _Words_ we say, + Words are but _Wind_, and so are they. + Applause is but a _Fart_, the crude + _Blast_ of the fickle Multitude. + The Boats that lie the _Thames_ about, + Be but _Farts_ several Docks let out. + Some of our _Projects_ were, I think, + But politick _Farts_, _Foh! how they stink_! + As soon as born, they by-and-by, + _Fart-like_, but only breathe, and die. + _Farts_ are as good as _Land_, for both + We hold _in Tail_, and _let_ them both: + Only the Difference here is, that + _Farts_ are _let_ at a lower _Rate_. + I'll say no more, for this is right, + That for my _Guts_ I cannot write; + Though I should study all my Days, + Rhimes that are worth the Thing I praise: + What I have said, take in good Part, + If not, I do not care a _Fart_. + + +_Written in Chalk under the _George-Inn_ Sign at _Farnham_._ + + St. _George_ to save a _Maid_, a _Dragon_ slew, + A gallant Action, grant the Thing be true. + Yet some say there's no _Dragons_.----Nay, tis said, + There's no _St. George_----Pray Heav'n there be a _Maid_. + + +_In the Window of a fine _Assembly-Room_ on a vast Appearance at its + Opening._ + + The Novelty this Crowd invites, + 'Tis strange, and therefore it delights; + For Folks Things eagerly pursue, + Not that they're good, but that they're new. + Pleasure must vary, or must cease, + We tire of Bliss, grow sick of Ease. + And if the Year we're doom'd to Play, + To Work would be a Holiday. + + +_Over the Gate of _Redgrave Hall_, on a Visit made by Queen _Elizabeth_ + to Sir _Nicholas Bacon_, then Lord Keeper._ + + When great ELIZA saw at _Redgrave-Hall_, + The Apartments _few_, and those indeed but _small_, + Thus to its _Lord_, bespoke the gracious QUEEN; + Methinks for _you_, this _Mansion_ is too _mean_. + _For me, my Liege_, quoth he, _of old 'twas meet, + But _you_ have made _me_ for my _House--too great. + + +_Written by Sir _Thomas Moor_._ + + At last I've found a _Haven_ where, + I'll ride secure from _Hope_ or _Fear_. + Thy Game is, _Fortune_, o'er with me, } + And thou to others now may'st _flee_ } + To cheat them with _Inconstancy_. } + + +_The Nature of Women: From a _Summer-House_ near _Richmond_._ + + Fair and foolish, little and loud, + Long and lazy, black and proud; + Fat and merry, lean and sad, + Pale and peevish, red and bad. + + +_The Nature of Men from the same._ + + To a Red Man read thy Read; + To a Brown Man break thy Bread; + At a Pale Man draw thy Knife; + From a Black Man keep thy Wife. + + +_In a Chamber Window in _Queen's College, Cambridge_._ + + Our _Bodies_ are like _Shoes_, which oft we _cast_, + _Physick_ the _Cobler_ is, and _Death_ the _Last_. + + +_On a Tomb._ + + Here, in their last Bed, + The loving _Alice_ rests with her Love _Ned_. + +_Underwritten by a _Cambridge_ Schollar._ + + _Viator siste! ecce miraculum! + Vir & Uxor, hic non litigant._ + +_Which in _English_ may stand thus._ + + Behold a Bed, where, without Strife, + There rests a Man, and eke his Wife. + + +_Tom of _Bedlam_'s Sentiments on Marriage._ + + One ask'd a Madman, if a Wife he had, + A Wife! quoth he.----No!----I'm not quite so mad. + + +_In the Vaults belonging to Trinity College, _Cambridge_, there is cut + the Form of a Tobacco-Box, with this Inscription:_ + + Pandora's Treasure. + +_Underneath,_ + + Tobacco, that outlandish Weed, + It dries the Brain, and spoils the Seed; + It dulls the Spirit, it dims the Sight, + It robs a Woman of her Right. + + +_An Epitaph on a Wicked Man's Tomb. Written by Doctor _Wild_ the famous + Non-Conformist Minister._ + + Beneath this Stone there lies a cursed Sinner, + Doom'd to be roasted for the Devil's Dinner. + + +_In the Vaults at _Chelsea_, and in an hundred other Places._ + + When the Devil was sick, the Devil a Monk would be, + When the Devil was well, the Devil a Monk was he. + + +_Sir _Walter Raleigh_ on the Snuff of a Candle the Night before he + died._ + + Cowards fear to die, but Courage stout, + Rather than live in Snuff, will put it out. + + +_On Marriage: In a Window at _Tunbridge_._ + + If 'tis to marry when the Knot is ty'd, + Why then they marry, who at _Tyburn_ ride. + And if that Knot, 'till Death, is loos'd by none, + Why then to marry, and be hang'd's all one. + + +_In a Window in a Public-House, near _Tunbridge_._ + + Sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + I'm finely brought to Bed; + My Lord has stole that troublesome Thing, + That Folks call a Maidenhead. + + _Jane Hughs_ eighteen Years of Age. + + +_A little below it, in the same Window._ + + Then sing High Ding a Ding, + And Ho Ding a Ding, + You're finely brought to Bed; + For something you've got for that troublesome Thing, + A Cl--p for a Maidenhead. + + _By my Lord's Gentleman._ + + +_Written in the first Leaf of _Arbor Vitae_._ + + Two D - - - s, and a Doctor, 'tis said, wrote this Piece, + Who were modest as Whores, and witty as Geese. + They penn'd it, it seems, to shew their great Parts, + Their Skill in Burlesque, and their Knowledge in Arts + But what say the Town----that 't has fully desected, + That Fools they are all----which had long been suspected. + + +_At the _Red Lyon_ at _Egham_, and in the Windows at many other Places._ + + _Cornutus_ call'd his Wife both Whore and Slut, + Quoth she, you'll never leave your Brawling--but-- + But, what? quoth he: Quoth she, the Post or Door; + For you have Horns to But, if I'm a Whore. + + +_In a Window at the Pudding-House in the Road to _Islington_._ + + The End of all, and in the End + The Praise of all depends: + A Pudding merits double Praise, + Because it hath two Ends. + + +_Underneath it._ + + A Pudding hath two Ends; You lye, my Brother, + For it begins at one, and ends at t'other. + + +_On Marriage. By a Batchelor._ + + Wedding and Hanging, both the Fates dispatch. + Yet Hanging seems to me the better Match. + + +_In a Window at _Bath_._ + +_On a Gentleman's saying he had calculated his Son's Nativity, the Boy + being then about nine Days old._ + + _Lavinia_ brought to Bed, her Husband looks + To know the Bantling's Fortune in his Books. + Wiser he'd been, had he look'd backward rather, + And seen for certain, who had been its Father. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Dung, when scatter'd o'er the Plain, + Causes noble Crops of Grain: + Dung in Gardens too we want, + To cherish ev'ry springing Plant. + Corn and Plants since Dung affords, + We eat as well as sh---- our T----ds. + + +_Written in the Window of a Lady's Chamber, who on a slight + Indisposition sent for _S. J. S.__ + + The Doctor more than Illness we should fear; + Sickness precedes, and Death attends his Coach, + Agues to Fevers rise, if he appear, + And Fevers grow to Plagues at his Approach. + + +_On Miss _Green_._ + + What gives the pleasant Mead its Grace, + What spreads at Spring Earth's smiling Face, + What jolly Hunters chuse to wear, + Gives Name to her whose Chains I bear. + + +_On Miss _Partridge_ of _Ely_._ + + That of the pretty feather'd Race, + Which most doth courtly Tables grace, + And o'er the Mountains bends it Flight, + Or lurks in Fields with Harvest bright; + For whose Destruction Men with Care, + The noblest Canine Breed prepare, + Bestows a Name on that fair Maid + Whose Eyes to Love my Heart betray'd. + + +_On Miss _Sk----_ at _Tunbridge_._ + + The _Irish_ have a certain Root, + Our Parsnip's very like unto't, + Which eats with Butter wond'rous well, + And like Potatoes makes a Meal. + Now from this Root there comes a Name, + Which own'd is by the beauteous Dame, + Who sways the Heart of _him_ who rules + A mighty Herd of Knaves and Fools. + + +_A _Rebus_ written in one of the Windows of a large House near _Epsom_._ + + The Court of Love's assembled here, + 'Tis _Venus_ Queen of Beauty's Sphere, + In all her Charms she stands confest, + And rules supreme the noblest Breast. + Ye Shepherds would ye learn the Name + Of her who spreads so vast a Flame, + Know that 'tis hid from the Prophane; + And that your strictest Search is _Vain_. + + +_In a Window of the Great Room at _Scarborough_._ + + What strange Vicissitudes we see + In Pleasure, as in Realms take Place + For nothing here can constant be, + Where springing Joys the old efface. + The Theatre, of Yore the Field + Of Conquests, gain'd by blooming Maids, + Now must to modern Operas yield, + As they, to courtly Masquerades. + Nor better fares those sweet Retreats + Which they in sultry Summer chose: + Since _Scarb'rough_, Paradise of Sweets! + On ruined _Bath_ and _Tunbridge_ rose. + + +_Traced with a Smoke of a Candle in _Newgate_._ + + _Dick_, on two Words, thought to maintain him ever: + The first was _Stand_, and next to _Stand, Deliver_. + But _Dick_'s in _Newgate_, and he fears shall never, + Be blest again with that sweet Word _Deliver_. + + +_In the Window of a Coffee-House at _Richmond_._ + + My _Chloe_ is an Angel bright, + But _Chloe_'s common----so is Light. + And who with _Phoebus_ Fault shall find, + Because his Beams to all are kind. + + +_On a Pannel at the Rose._ + + _Nanny Meadowes_ has undone me, + From myself her Charms have won me. + With Love's blazing Flames I die, + Whither, whither shall I fly! + +_Underneath._ + + Prithee, Coxcomb, without Whining, + Say thou hast a mind to Sinning + With a Guinea, do but ask her, + Love you'll find----is no hard Task, Sir. + + +_On a long-winded Preacher at _Coventry_: From a Window there._ + + Twelve Minutes, and one tedious Hour + _Mills_ kept me once in Pain, + But if I had it my Power, + He ne'er should preach again. + + +_A _Liliputian_ ODE. Composed at _Tunbridge_._ + + Charming _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + Learn to ease me, + No more teaze me. + Love's but Reason + When in Season: + Nay, 'tis Duty, + Youth and Beauty + To improve + In happy Love. + Therefore, _Molly_, + Cease your Folly, + And instead of being coy, + Give, O give your Lover Joy! + +_The _Fair Lady's Answer_. In the same Measure._ + + Rhiming _Billy_, + Soft and silly, + Are the verses, + Muse rehearses, + When with straining + You're obtaining + Her Assistance + 'Gainst Resistance, + Made by Mistress + To your Distress. + Therefore early + Quit them fairly, + If you'd be rid of Woe, + Prithee, Prithee, Coxcomb, do. + + +_The Clowns and the Conjurer. By a Lady._ + + A Clown, who had lost his Mare, + To his Neighbour, a Wit, did repair, + And begg'd him with him to go + To the famous Doctor _Foreknow_, + A Conjurer powerful and strong, + Who would tell who had done the Wrong. + So when to the Door they came, + The Wit, he besh - - t the same: + Then knocking -- the Doctor appears, + And in Midst of his Passion he swears, + If he knew but the nasty Dog + Who had sh - - t at his Gate like a Rogue, + He'd do to him Lord knows what. + Quoth the Wit -- why know you not that? + Then, Neighbour, e'en save your Pence, + For his Learning is all a Pretence: + If he knows not who sh - t----of course, + He nothing can know of your Horse. + And no Light can his Figures afford, + Whose Conjuring's not worth a T---- + So as wise our two Clowns came Home, + As any who on such Errands roam. + + +_On a Pannel at the Faulcon in _St. Neot_'s _Huntingdonshire_._ + + My Maidenhead sold for a Guinea, + A lac'd Head with the Money I bought; + In which I look'd so bonny, + The Heart of a Gamester I caught: + A while he was fond, and brought Gold to my Box, + But at last he robb'd me, and left me the P---- + +_Underneath._ + + When you balance Accounts, it sure may be said, + You at a bad Market sold your Maidenhead. + + +_The _Inamorato_. In a Window at _Twickenham_._ + + When dull and melancholy, + I rove to charming _Dolly_, + Whose Sweetness doth so charm me, + And wanton Tricks so warm me, + That quite dissolv'd in Love, + No Trouble then I prove, + But am as truly blest + Upon her panting Breast, + As if to me she brought + All for which _Caesar_ fought: + For I, like _Anthony_, + With Beauty would be free, + Altho' again't shou'd cost + The Price of Empire lost. + +_An _Answer_. In the next Pane._ + + You sure were full of Folly, + When in the Praise of _Dolly_, + You wrote your am'rous Ditty, + Which sure deserves her Pity, + Since plainly it doth prove, + Your Brain is crack'd with Love; + Who else would talk of giving + An Empire for a ---- + When Twenty will down } + Each for a Silver Crown, } + And thank you when they've done } + + +_In a Window. At _Lebeck's-Head_._ + + If it be true each Promise is a Debt, + Then _Celia_ hardly will her Freedom get; + Yet she, to satisfy her Debts, desires + To yield her Body as the Law requires. + + +_In the _Summer-House_ on _Gray's Inn Terras_._ + + Who speaks to please in ev'ry Way, + And not himself offend, + He may begin to work to Day, + But Heaven knows when he'll end. + + +_In the same Place._ + + Dogs on their Masters fawn and leap, + And wag their Tails apace, + So tho' a Flatterer wants a Tail, + His Tongue supplies its Place. + + +_In a Window of the _Rene-Deer-Inn_ at _Bishop's-Strafford_._ + + He that loves a Glass without a G, + Leave out L, and that is he. + + +_Wrote with a Pencil on a Pannel in one of the Courts of Justice in + _Guild-Hall_._ + + To go to Law + I have no Maw, + Altho' my Suit be sure, + For I may lack + Cloaths to my Back, + E'er I that Suit procure. + + +_At the Tuns in _Cambridge_. Written with a Pencil on the Wall._ + + Marriage in Days of old has liken'd been + Unto a publick Feast, or Revel Rout, + Where those who are without would fain get in, + And those who are within would fain get out. + + +_On two old Maids: Written with a Pencil in the _Pump Room_ at _Bath_._ + + Why are _Doll_'s Teeth so white, and _Susan_'s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + +_In a Window, at the _Rose-Tavern_ in _Catherine-Street_._ + +_On Mrs. _C---- P----__ + + So early _Con_ began the wanton Trade, + She scarce remembers when she was a Maid. + + +_In the Window of a Sharper's Chambers in the _Temple_._ + + Oft with an Oath has _Cog_ the Gamester said, + That no Disease should make him keep his Bed, + Urg'd for a Reason, I have heard him tell it, + To keep my Word----in Troth I mean to sell it. + + +_In a Bog-House at _Putney_._ + + The Poor have _little_, Beggars _none_, + The Rich _too much_, _enough_, not one. + + +_Written at the Request of a Lady who on her Wedding Day entreated an + old Lover to write something upon her in the Window._ + + This glittering Diamond, and this worthless Glass, + _Celia_, display thy Virtue and thy Face; + Bright as the Brilliant while thy Beauty shows + Ev'n Glass itself's less brittle than thy Vows. + + +_The _Italian_ Gout._ + + If a Man lets a Fart in fair _Italy_, + From Lovers he never is after free; + For why ---- amongst those Dons, 'tis said, + 'Tis a certain Sign of a Male Maidenhead. + + +_In a Window of a certain Lady of Pleasure's Lodgings in _Bow-Street_._ + + When with _Phillis_ toying, + Eager for enjoying, + What Muse can say + How sweet our Play, + What Numbers tell + The Joys we feel? + Happy Lovers only know + Bliss unmix'd with any Woe. + + The Ambitious when rais'd to the Summit of Power, + In the Midst of their Joy fear that Fortune may lower; + The Miser, who Thousands has heap'd in his Chest, + In the Midst of Riches is never at rest. + And the Heroe, whose Bosom his Glory still warms, + In the Midst of his Conquests fears the Change of his Arms. + But the Lover, whose Fondness his Hours doth employ, + In the Midst of her Charms knows no End of his Joy. + + Then quit Hopes of rising, + And Riches despising, + Leave the Camp and the Court + For Love's pleasing Sport; + By Experience you'll know, } + Love's Pleasure's still flow, } + Un-embitter'd with Care, and untinctur'd with Woe. } + + +_In a Window at _Parson's-Green_._ + +_The Lover's Retreat._ + + From meaner Pleasure I retire, + Yet real Happiness pursue; + Friendship and Love my Breast inspire, + And I have met them both in you, + + Whatever in my Wish had Place, + In thee, my lovely Fair, I find; + All that's beauteous in thy Face, + And all that's virtuous in thy Mind. + + +_Written by Mr. ---- in _Chloe_'s Bed-Chamber._ + + Wou'd you know the true Road that to Pleasure doth lead, + Then this Way, ye Swains, your Footsteps must tread. + And then for the Piece which this Pleasure doth cost, + Why, 'tis only a Guinea, you can't think it lost. + Since Supper and Lodging, and Mistress and all, + Nay, and Maid, if you like her, are ready at Call. + + +_The _Thief_ and the _Doctor_._ + + A Thief a Parson stopp'd on the Highway, + And having bid him stand, next bid him pay. + The Parson drew his sword, for well he durst, + And quickly put his Foe unto the Worst. + Sir, (quoth the Thief) I by your Habit see, + You are a Churchman, and Debate should flee, + You know 'tis written in the sacred Word, + _Jesus_ to _Peter_ said, _Put up thy Sword_: + True, (quoth the Parson) but withal then hear, + St. _Peter_ first had cut off _Malchus_'s Ear. + + +__Pasquin_ against _P. S. Quintus_, when he forbid the Bawdy-Houses at + _Rome_, in Queen _Elizabeth_'s Time._ + + _Lex prohibet Pueros, prohibet Lupanaria Sixtus;_ + _Ergo quid agendum? Sit tibi amica manus._ + + +_The Cure of Love._ + + Love is, as some Physicians say, + A Fever bred by too high Feeding: + To cure it then the speediest Way, + Would be by Purging, and by Bleeding. + + +_Written in the Window of the Bar of the _White-Swan-Tavern_ of the City + of _Norwich_._ + +Mcccmixixx. + + ---- ---- ---- _firmissima vina,_ + ---- ---- ---- _reponite mensis,_ + ---- ---- ---- _& pocula porgite dextris._ + + +_In the Bog-House of the same Tavern._ + + Six Pennyworth of Whiting, } + A Hole to let Light in, } + Will make it fit to sh - - te in. } + +_Underneath._ + + By what's above, I welly ween, + The Fool wants Light to sh - t him clean. + + +_In a Bog-House in _St. Michael_'s Parish in _Norwich_._ + + _Tim Kirby_, _Peter Harrod_, and _Will Hall_, + Are three fit Pieces for a Bog-House Wall. + +_Underneath. By another._ + + But _Old Nick_ has got them all. + + +_Written in a Bog-House at _Ipswich_._ + + _Si desit stramen, cum digito terge Feramen._ + +_In _English_. By another._ + + If you cannot get some Grass, + With your Finger wipe your A - - se + +_And under that, by another._ + + Such wretched _Latin_, and such wretched Verse, + Are proper _Stremina_ to clean my A - - se. + + +_In a Window at _Mount Ephraim_, near _Tunbridge_:_ + +_A Dialogue between a Lover and a Poet._ + + _Lov._ What is bright _Celia_ like, Dear Poet, say? + _Poet._ Why _Celia_, Sir, is like a Summer's Day. + _Lov._ Who to a Day could liken such a Woman? + _Poet._ Is she not very _fair_, and very _common_? + + +_Written with a Pencil in the Vault at _Chelsea College_._ + + Who scribbles on the Wall when he's at sh - -, + May sure be said to have a Flux of Wit. + + +_In the Vaults at _Tunbridge_._ + + Like Claret-Drinkers Stools, a Blockhead's Brain; + Hardly conceives what it brings forth with Pain. + Such is my Case----who, while I'm thus inditing, + Prove the Analogy 'twixt it and Sh------. + + +_Written on the Window of a Coffee-House._ + +_Underneath, Coffee, Tea,_ &c. + + The Mistress by her Window's represented, + For why, 'tis brittle Ware, and painted. + + +_On a Butcher's marrying a Tanner's Daughter at _Reading_._ + + A fitter Match there never could have been, + Since here the _Flesh_ is wedded to the _Skin_. + + +_At _Tunbridge_._ + + _Chloe_ is fair as _Fields_ in Autumn seen, + Her Temper gentle as the purling _Stream_: + That's true; but then with those the rest conspire, + Lighter she is than _Air_, and hot as _Fire_. + + +_In Mrs. _Cowser_'s Window; in _Russel-Street_, _Covent-Garden_._ + + + Love, 'tis said, his Arrows shooting, + Wounds is ever distributing; + But before I felt, I knew not, + That in Poison dipp'd they flew hot. + + To _Jenny_ I owe + That this Secret I know, + For her I felt Smart + At first in my Heart; + + Which quickly she cur'd: But alack and alas! + I now feel a Throbbing in a much lower Place. + To _Jenny_ I went; but, alas! it was in vain: + Though she gave me the Wound, she can't cure me again. + + +_An Epitaph on an old Maid._ + + Beneath this Place there lies an ancient Maid, + Whose secret Parts no Man did e'er invade; + Scarce her own Finger she'd permit to touch + That Virgin Part, altho' it itched much. + And in her last expiring dying Groans, + Desir'd no Tomb, if it was built with Stones. + + +_The Effects of Love._ + + Love is the sweetest softest Passion, + That can warm the human Soul; + 'Tis a gentle Inclination + Which doth ev'ry Care controul: + + Thro' our Bosom Love diffusing, + Tender Thoughts is ever choosing; + Softest Words its Flame expressing, + Towards the Dame our Heart possessing. + + Love still gentle makes and easy, + Soft in ev'ry Thing we do; + Bent on all Things that may please ye, + Men are Angels when they Woo. + + +_This was wrote somewhere; and means something, if you can find it out._ + + A Beauty like her's whose Charms I now sing, + Ne'er sparkled in vain in the Box or the Ring; + No Youth of Distinction who gaz'd on her Eyes, + E'er retir'd, but he left her his Heart as her Prize. + Vain are all their Endeavours, for still the coy Maid, + At the Mention of Marriage, look'd strangely afraid, + Nor e'er thought of yeilding----until not long since + Eluding dull Ties----she was join'd to a P---- + + +_FINIS._ + + + + +_Entertaining PAMPHLETS just Printed._ + + +1. THE MERRY-THOUGHT: Or, _The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany_. +Containing such Pieces of Wit and Humour as have been writ with +Diamonds, _&c._ by Persons of the First Quality in _Great Britain_, on +Glass-Windows, Drinking-Glasses, Bog-Houses, _&c._ at the most publick +Places of Resort in this Kingdom. In four Parts. Price 6 _d._ each. + + +2. _Round about Our Coal-Fire:_ Or, _Christmas Entertainments_. Treating +of Mirth and Jollity, Eating, Drinking, Kissing, _&c._ Of Hobgoblins, +Raw-Heads and Bloody-Bones, _Tom-Pokers_, Bull-Beggars, Witches, +Wizards, Conjurers, and such like horrible Bodies. Adorn'd with many +diverting Cuts. Price 6 _d._ + + +3. A View of the BEAU MONDE: Or, _Memoirs of the Celebrated COQUETILLA_. +In which is interspersed the Amours of several Persons of Quality and +Distinction. To which is added, _The Masque of Life:_ A Ballad. Price +1 _s._ + + +4. _Love-Alamode:_ Or, _The Amours of_ FLORELLA _and_ PHILLIS. Being the +Memoirs of two Celebrated Ladies under those Names: In which the whole +Circle of Modern Gallantry is display'd. Price 1 _s._ + + +5. _The BEAU's_ MISCELLANY. Being a Curious Collection of amorous Tales, +diverting Songs, and entertaining Poems: particularly, _The Curious +Maid_; _The Peeper_; _The Leaky Vessel_; _The Bauble_; _The Longitude_; +_The Parson and his Maid_; _The Hoop-Petticoat_; _The Tickler_; _The +Maiden's and Batchelor's Dreams_; _cum multis aliis_. + + _If these merry Tales don't ev'ry Humour fit, + Let Fops, like me, ne'er nibble more at Wit._ + +In two Parts. The Second Edition. Price stich'd 2 _s._ neatly bound +2 _s._ 6 _d._ + + +6. A PROPOSAL humbly offered to the Parliament, for the more effectual +preventing the farther Growth of _Popery_. By Dean _Sw - - ft_. To which +is added, Two Poems, _Helter-Skelter_, on the Hue and Cry after the +Country Attornies, on their Riding the Circuit; and, The Place of the +_Damn'd_. The Second Edition. Price 6 _d._ + + +7. _The Behaviour of the Clergy, as well as their Traditions destructive +of Religion._ Or, A Succinct History of _Priestcraft_ throughout all +Ages. To which is added, Parson _Bow - - n_'s Confession: A Poem. The +Third Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +8. WAR WITH PRIESTCRAFT, Or, _The Freethinker's Iliad_. A Burlesque +Poem. In Three Canto's. With Notes explaining the Sentiments, _&c._ of +them and their Followers. Price 1 _s._ + + +9. The HONEY-SUCKLE: A Curious Collection of POEMS. Consisting chiefly +of Originals; and interspersed with Translations from the best _Greek_ +and _Latin_ Poets. To which is added, _The_ DUEL: A Poem. The Second +Edition. Price 1 _s._ + +10. _The whole Case and Proceedings in relation to BRIDGET READING, an +Heiress, and _Daniel Kimberley_ and others._ To which is added, The +Trial of the said _Kimberley_; with his last dying Words, and an +Original Letter sent by him to Mr. _READING_ a few Days before his +Execution. Price 1 _s._ + + +11. _A View of the TOWN_: Or, _Memoirs of LONDON_. In which the Humours, +Follies, Vices, _&c._ of that Great _Metropolis_, are merrily display'd. +Interspersed with several new and witty Songs. + + _My Book a _Salesman_'s Shop you'll find,_ + Where civilly I'll treat ye, + _To a _Fool_'s Coat of any Kind,_ + _You'r welcome if it fit ye._ + +The Second Edition. Price 1 _s._ + + +12. _A Sketch of the Miseries of POVERTY._ Dedicated to the Honourable +Sir _Griffith Boynton_ Bart. + + _Happy the Man, who void of Care and Strife, + In silken or in leathern Purse retains + A splendid Shilling._ + + Phillips. + + Price 6 _d._ + + +13. _A T----d is as good for a Sow, as a Pancake:_ Or, _The Story of a +COCK and a BULL_. Calculated for the Improvement of the Modern Wits. +Written by _Myself_ Esq; Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + + _From Nothing comes Nothing, and there remains Nothing._ + + From a Copy-Book in the _Blue-Coat_ Hospital. + + + * * * * * + * * * * + * * * * * + +Errata: + + The List of Editors was despeckled in scanning. All periods + (full stops) were supplied by the transcriber. + + +Editor's Introduction: + + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (taken from primary text)_ + + +Primary Text: + +Title Page: + All title pages-- including Part 1, issued as a separate ARS + publication-- are essentially identical. + --The last part of the second paragraph (after "... Nation.") varies. + --The name "Bethleham-Wall" is spelled "Bethlehem" in Part 3. + +Part 2: + Will make a T d more lasting; + _shown as printed_ + +Part 3: + Names the Nymph that I adore. + _text reads "Npmph"_ + _Save us from sudden Death_, was said, + _text reads "wa ssaid"_ + +Part 4: + Shall lay (on Pain of Flagellation) + (From lowest Club, to that call'd Royal,) + _close parenthesis missing from both lines_ + He'el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind, + _spelling unchanged_ + By Swine who nee'r provide Bumfodder + _spelling unchanged (quoted in editor's introduction)_ + E'er I that Suit procure. + _text has comma at end_ + Professor of Dulness and Bombast. Price 6 _d._ + _text reads "Picre"_ + + +Further Notes: + + Why are _Doll_'s Teeth so white, and _Susan_'s black? + The Reason soon is known. + _Doll_ buys her Teeth which she doth lack, + But _Susan_ wears her own. + + This verse is a translation of Martial V.43: + + _Thais habet nigros, niveos Laecania dentes + Quae ratio est? Emptos haec habet, illa suos._ + + _P. S. Quintus_ + + Pope Sixtus V (= Quintus). + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry-Thought: or the Glass-Window +and Bog-House Miscellany, by Hurlo Thrumbo (pseudonym) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY-THOUGHT *** + +***** This file should be named 20535.txt or 20535.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/3/20535/ + +Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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