All Bubbles, and the Rogues that skin 'em,"

--and so forth, the natural anti-climax being that he loves nothing but
his "Charmer" at Salisbury. In another, which is headed _To Celia--
Occasioned by her apprehending her House would be broke open, and having
an old Fellow to guard it, who sat up all Night, with a Gun without any
Ammunition_, and from which it has been concluded that the Miss Cradocks
were their own landlords, Venus chides Cupid for neglecting to guard her
favourite:--

"'Come tell me, Urchin, tell no lies;
Where was you hid, in _Vince's_ eyes?
Did you fair _Bennet's_ Breast importune?
(I know you dearly love a Fortune.)'
Poor _Cupid_ now began to whine;
'Mamma, it was no Fault of mine.
I in a Dimple lay _perdue_,
That little Guard-Room chose by you.
A hundred Loves (all arm'd) did grace
The Beauties of her Neck and Face;
Thence, by a Sigh I dispossest,
Was blown to _Harry Fielding's_ Breast;
Where I was forc'd all Night to stay,
Because I could not find my Way.
But did Mamma know there what Work
I've made, how acted like a Turk;
What Pains, what Torment he endures,
Which no Physician ever cures,
She would forgive.' The Goddess smil'd,
And gently chuck'd her wicked Child,