When that was broke, it broke my Heart;
For now for ever we must part,
Unless I boldly meet it on the Road,
And bid the Porter give it me, by G - d.
And so I'll do;
_Tom. Stout_
Will see it out, _Feb._ 2.

_Underwritten._

Win it and take it, says Captain _Hector_: I defy the bold Robber;
and I have an hundred Guineas that I shall travel with to-morrow.

_Feb._ 16.

_At the Cardinal's-Cap In Windsor, on a Window._

_J. F._ is fifteen, and so charming her Mien, }
Her Eyes are like Brilliants, her Looks are serene, }
And one Kiss from her Lips is worth ten from a Queen. }

_Tom. Fool_, 1726.

_At the same Place, on the Wall._

Never had Mortal greater Wit
Than I who ever wanted it;
But now my Wants have made me scrawl,
And rhyme and write the Devil and all.

_J. Forbes_, 1720.

_On a Summer-House near Farnham in Surrey._

I, C, U, B
Y Y for me.

J. S.

_The Reading of it is supposed to be, _viz.__

I see you be
Too wise for me.

_Star-Inn, Coventry._

Tell me where is Fancy bred? }
In the Heart, or in the Head? }
How begot, how nourished? }

_ANSWER_,

Had not _Celia_ come this Way,
My Heart would be my own this Day,
Fancy's engendered in the Eyes,
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies
In the same Cradle where it lies;
For she's a Wh-re, and I despise.

_R. L. 1710._

_At the Leg-Tavern, Fleet-Street. We suppose an Attempt to put the Lives
of Adam and Eve, and their Sons, into Verse._

Mr. _Adam_ he was, the first Man alive,
And he married a fine young Gentlewoman, call'd Mrs. _Eve_.
And Mr. _Adam_ and Mrs. _Eve_, between them twain
Got a pretty little Boy, called Master _Cain_.

_At the Catherine-Wheel at Henley._

_CLELIA's Epitaph, who was slander'd to Death._

Death, to vindicate her Wrongs,
Gives her Fame which never dies;
So the Life that died with Shame,
Lives in Death with glorious Fame.

_R. S._ _Oct. 17. 1708_.

_At the same Place._

Three Bottles of _Burgundy_, and a brisk Lass,
With a thousand of _Grigs_, should it e'er come to pass,
Would make me behave my self just like an Ass.

_L. M._ of _Oxon_, 1709.

_From the Temple Bog-House._

No Hero looks so fierce in Fight,
As does the Man who strains to sh-te.

_From the Crown at Basingstoke, which was, in Ben Jo