,
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 w