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Might whirl his prison off his back;
Or like a maggot in a nut
Full bravely eat his passage out.
Who knows what vast discoveries
From such inquiries might arise ?
But feuds, and tumults in the nation
Disturb such curious speculation.
Cambridge from furious broils of state,
Foresees her near-approaching fate;
Her surest patrons are remov’d,
And her triumphant foes approv'd.

No more! this due to friendship take,
Not idly writ for writing's sake;
No longer question my respect,
Nor call this short delay neglect;
At least excuse it, when you see
This pledge of my sincerity;
For one who rhymes to make you easy,
And his invention strains to please you,
To shew his friendship cracks his brains,
Şure is a mad-man if he feigns.

TO

CORINNA,

FROM A

CAPTAIN IN COUNTRY QUARTERS.

BY

ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE, ESQ:

My earliest Aame, to whom I owe
All that a captain needs to know,
Dress, and quadrille, and air, and chat,
Lewd songs, loud laughter, and all that:
Arts that have widows oft subdued,
And never fail'd to win a prude;
Think, charmer, how I live forlorn
At quarters, from Corinna torn.
Not more distress the cornet feels
From gruel, and Ward's popish pills.
What shall I do now you're away,
To kill that only foe, the day?
The landed 'squire, and dull freeholder
Are sure no comrades for a soldier;
To drink with parsons all day long,
Misanbin tells me would be wrong:

Sober advice, and Curll's Dutch whore I've read, 'till I can read no more. At noon I rise, and strait alarm A sempstress' shop, or country farm; Repuls’d, my next pursuit is a'ter The parson's wife, or landlord's daughter : At market oft for game I search, Oft at assemblies, oft at church, And plight my faith and gold to-boot : Yet demme if a soul will do'tIn short, our credit's sunk so low, Since troops were kept o'foot for shew, She that for soldiers once run mad, Is turn's republican, 'egad! And when I boast my feats, the shrew Asks who was slain the last review. Know then, that I and captain Trueman Resolve to keep a miss—in common : Not her, among the batter'd lasses, Such as our friend Toupét caresses, But her, a nymph of polish'd sense, Which pedants call Impertinence; Train'd up to laugh, and drink, and swear, And rally with the prettiest airAmidst our frolicks and carouses How shall we pity wretched spouses ! But where can this dear soul be found, In garret high, or under ground? If so divine a fair there be, Charming Corinna, thou art she.

But oh! what motives can persuade
Belles, to prefer a rural shade,
In this gay month, when pleasures bloom,
The park, the play—the drawing-room-
Lo ! birthnights upon birthnights tread,
Term is begun, the lawyer fee'd ;
My friend the merchant, let me tell ye,
Calls in his way to Farinelli;
Add that my sattin gown and watch
Some unfledg'd booby 'squire may catch,
Who charm’d with his delicious quarry,
May first debauch me, and then marry 3
Never was season more befitting
Since convocations last were sitting.
And shall I leave dear Charing-cross,
And let two boys my charms ingross?
Leave play-house, temple, and the rummer?
A country friend might serve in summer!

The town's your choice-yet, charming fair, Observe what ills attend you there. Captains, that once admir'd your beauty, Are kept by quality on duty; Cits, for atoning alms disburse A tester--templars, something worse : My lord may take you to his bed, But then he sends you back unpaid ; And all you gain from generous cully, Must go to keep some Irish bully. Pinchbeck demands the tweezer case,

And Monmouth-street the gowns and stays;
More mischiefs yet come crowding on,
Bridewell, West Indies—and Sir John-
Then oh! to lewdness bid adieu,
And chastely live, confin'd to two.

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