Fancy may visit ev'ry shade,
Each bow'r shall kiss the wand'ring maid.

To busier scenes of life I fly,
Where many smile, where many sigh,
As Chance, not Worth, turns up the die.




BANKRUPTCY RENDERED EASY.


The Cit, relying on his trade,
Which, like all other things, may fade,
Longs for a curricle and villa:
This Hatchet splendidly supplies,
The other Cock'ril builds, or buys,
To charm himself and Miss Hautilla.

Then swift, O London! he retires,
To be, from all thy smoke and spires,
From Saturday till Sunday, merry:
On Sunday crowds of friends attend;
His house and garden some commend,
And all admire his port and sherry.

His mistress urg'd him now to play,
And cut to wealth a shorter way,
Now as a bride she heads his table;