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The KING and the MILLER.
HOW happy a ſtate does the Miller poſſeſs,
Who wou'd be no greater, nor fears to be leſs,
On his mill and himſelf he depends for ſupport,
which is better than ſerviley cringing at court.
What tho' he all duſty and whit'ned does go,
the more he's bepowder'd the more like a beau,
A clown in his dreſs may be honeſter far,
than a courteour who ſtruts in his garter and ſtar.
Tho' his hands are ſo daub'd they're not fit to be ſeen,
the hands of his betters are not very clean;
A palm more polite may as dirtily deal,
gold in handling will ſtick to his fingers like meal,
What if, when a pudding for dinner he lacks,
he cribs without ſcruple from other mens ſacks;
In this of right noble example her brags,
who borrow as freely from other men's bags.
Or ſhou'd be endeavour to heap an eſtate,
in this too he mimicks the Tools of the ſtate,
Whoſe aim is alone their coffers to fill,
and all his concern's to bring griſt to his mill.
He eats when he's hungry, and drinks when he's dry,
and down when he's weary contented does ly,
Then riſes up cheerful to work and to ſing:
if ſo happy a Miller, then who'd be a King!
LOVELY NYMPH.
LOvely Nymph, aſſuage my anguiſh,
At your feet, a tender ſwain
Prays you will not let him languiſh;
One kind look would eaſe his pain.
Did you know the lad that courts you,
He not long needs ſue in vain;
Prince of ſong, of dance, and ſports—you
Scarce will meet the like again.
FINIS.
