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 ba