The Merry-Thought - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Underwritten._
Thou Puppy, ---- The Fire of her Eyes occasioned the Flame of her Heart, And drew the Fire to her lower Part.
_R. L._
_From the same Place._
After a tedious Journey, and my Supper, And dam----d uneasy with my Crupper, _Jenney_ came up to warm my Bed, } A pretty Girl; but I was dead, } Or else I'd had her Maidenhead. }
_R. T._
_Swan at Uxbridge._
Who's been here, The Devil I fear; For he's left the Bottles clear.
_R. Est----n_, 1710.
_Underwritten._
'Twas so; for nothing so like the Devil as an empty Bottle.
_G. S._ 1711.
_Boghouse at Uxbridge._
If a Man should breathe backwards, and happens to stink, You may say, if you will, it is natural _Instinct_.
_Underwritten._
You may quibble upon the Word _Instinct_, if you will; but I think 'tis better out than in, considering the Case.
_I. M._ of _Oxon._
_Betty Careless, her Prayers: From her Chambers in Drury-Lane, on a Wall, written with a Piece of Charcoal._
Grant us good l.u.s.ty Men, ye gracious Pow'rs!
Or else stop up those craving Things of ours!
_From the Plough Ale-House in Fore-Street, near Cripplegate, written upon a Wall._
Good Bread and Meat, strong Beer withal, Will make a T d more lasting; Therefore I think he is a Fool, That goes out in a Morning fasting.
_Tom. Rudge._
We suppose he wants to eternize his Memory by eating a Breakfast.
When I lay with my bouncing _Nell_, I gave her an Inch, and she took an Ell: But I think in this Case it was d.a.m.nable hard, When I gave her an Inch, she'd want more than a Yard.
_Hampstead, at the Flask._
Nothing so certain as the Uncertainties of this Life, _says one of the Greek Philosophers_.
_Hoxton, on a Wall._
What Difference between Kings T - - - ds and mine?
One may be costive, one be full of Slime; Yet equally will any Hog that feeds, Produce good Pork by feeding on our Needs.
_Underwritten._
You nasty Dog, you may eat your Pork yourself.
_Hampstead, at the Flask._
Tell me why, ye gen'rous Swains?
Tell me, ye Nymphs upon the Plains?
Why does _Sylvia_ leave the Green?
Has she done any Thing obscene?
They all reply'd, Your _Sylvia_'s gone; For she will do't with ev'ry one.
_From the Red Lyon at Egham._
She that thinks upon her Honour, Needs no other Guard upon her.
_Underwritten._
She that has a Man upon her, Never thinks upon her Honour.
_In Trinity College Boghouse, Dublin._
You who instead of Fodder, Fingers use, Pray lick 'em clean, and don't this Wall abuse.
_Under which is written;_
These House-of-Office Poets, by the L - - - d, Instead of Laurel, should be crown'd with T - - - d.
_In a Window, at the Sign of the Four Crosses, on the Road to West Chester._
Host! wou'd you paint your Crosses to the Life, Pull down your Sign, and then hang up your Wife.
