Or elfe at serious Ombre play;

But why shou'd we in vain Each others Ruin thus purfue?

We were undone when we left you.

But now our Fears tempeftuous grow, And caft our Hopes away,

Whilft you regardless of our Woe

Sit careless at a Play;

Perhaps permit fome happier Man

To kiss your Hand, or flirt your Fan,

With a Fa, &c. .

IX.

When any mournful Tune you hear, That dies in ev'ry Note,

As if it figh'd with each Man's Care,

For being fo remote;

Think then how often Love we've made

To you, when all those Tunes were play'd.

With a Fa, &c.

X.

In Justice you cannot refuse

To think of our Diftrefs,

When we for hopes of Honour lofe
Our certain Happiness;

All those Designs are but to prove

Our felves more worthy of your Love.

With a Fa, &c.

XI.

And now we've told you all our Loves,

And likewise all our Fears

;

In hope this Declaration moves,

Some Pity for our Tears,

Let's hear of no Inconftancy,

We have too much of that at Sea.

With a Fa la, la, la, la.

A LA MODE.

M

Y better felf, my Heav'n, my Joy!
While thus Imparadis'd I lye,

Transported in thy circling Arms

With fresh Variety of Charms,

From Fate I fcarce can think to crave

A Blifs, but what in theé I have.

Twelve Months, my Dear, have past, since thou

Didst plight to me thy Virgin Vow

Twelve Months in Rapture spent! for they

Seem shorter than St. Lucy's Day:

A bright Example we shall prove

Of lasting matrimonial Love,

A

That I may not furvive, to fee
My Happiness expire with thee.

O! fhou'd I lofe my dearest Dear,

By thee, and all that's good I fwear, felf the fatal Blow,

I'd give my

And wait thee to the World below.

When W HEADLE thus to Spouse in Bed
Spoke the best things he e'er had read,
Madam (furpriz'd, you must suppose it,)
Had lock'd a Templer in the Closet;
A Youth of pregnant Parts, and Worth,
To play at Picquet, and fo forth

This Wag, when he had heard the whole,
Demurely to the Curtains stole;

And peeping in, with folemn Tone

Cry'd out, O Man! Thy Days are done:

The

The Gods are fearful of the worst,
And fend me, Death, to fetch thee firft;
To fave their Fav'rite from Self-murder :
Lo! thus 1 execute their Order.

Hold, Sir, for fecond Thoughts are best,
The Husband cry'd; 'tis my Request

With Pleasure to prolong my Life.

Your Meaning?Pray, Sir, take my Wife.