On Psyche[1]

At two afternoon for our Psyche inquire, Her tea-kettle's on, and her smock at the fire: So loitering, so active; so busy, so idle; Which has she most need of, a spur or a bridle? Thus a greyhound outruns the whole pack in a race, Yet would rather be hang'd than he'd leave a warm place. She gives you such plenty, it puts you in pain; But ever with prudence takes care of the main. To please you, she knows how to choose a nice bit; For her taste is almost as refined as her wit. To oblige a good friend, she will trace every market, It would do your heart good, to see how she will cark it. Yet beware of her arts; for, it plainly appears, She saves half her victuals, by feeding your ears.

THE DEAN AND DUKE 1734

James Brydgesand the Dean had long been friends; James is beduked; of course their friendship ends: But sure the Dean deserves a sharp rebuke, For knowing James, to boast he knows the duke. Yet, since just Heaven the duke's ambition mocks, Since all he got by fraud is lost by stocks, His wings are clipp'd: he tries no more in vain With bands of fiddlers to extend his train. Since he no more can build, and plant, and revel, The duke and dean seem near upon a level. O! wert thou not a duke, my good Duke Humphry, From bailiffs claws thou scarce couldst keep thy bum free. A duke to know a dean! go, smooth thy crown: Thy brother(far thy better) wore a gown. Well, but a duke thou art; so please the king: O! would his majesty but add a string!