which he died:
Nor ever spake word of reproach,
Only, he wish'd in death that his remains
Might find a poor grave in some spot, not far
From his mistress' family vault, "being the place
Where one day Anna should herself be laid."

DICK STRYPE; OR, THE FORCE OF HABIT

_A Tale--By Timothy Bramble_

(1801)

Habits _are stubborn things:_
And by the time a man is turn'd of _forty_,
His _ruling passion's_ grown so haughty
There is no clipping of its wings.
The amorous roots have taken earth, and fix
And never shall P--TT leave his juggling tricks,
Till H----Y quits his metre with his pride,
Till W----M learns to flatter regicide,
Till hypocrite-enthusiasts cease to vant
And _Mister_ W----E leaves off to cant.
The truth will best be shewn,
By a familiar instance of our own.

Dick Strype
Was a dear friend and lover of the PIPE;
He us'd to say, _one pipe of Kirkman's best_
Gave life a _zest_.
To him 'twas meat, and drink, and physic,
To see the friendly vapour
Curl round his midnight taper,
And the black fume
Clothe all the room,
In clouds as dark as _science metaphysic_.
So still he smok'd, and drank, and crack'd his joke;
And, had he _single_ tarried
He might have smok'd, and still grown old in smoke:
But RICHARD _married_.
His wife was one, who carried
The _cleanly virtues_ almost to a vice,
She was so _nice:_
And thrice a week, above, below,
The house was scour'd from top to toe,
And all the floors were rubb'd so bright,
You dar'd not walk upright
For fear of sliding:
But that she took a pride in.

Of all things else REBECCA STRYPE
Could least endure a _pipe_.
She rail'd upon the filthy herb tobacco,
Protested that the noisome vapour
Had spoilt the best chintz curtains and the paper
And cost her many a pound in stucco:
And then she quoted our _King James_, who saith
"Tobacco is the Devil's breath."
When wives _will_ govern, husbands _mu