The Romans once admir'd a Gander

More than they did their chief Commander:
Because he fav'd, if fome don't fool us,

The Place that's call'd from the Head of Tolus.

Oh! by the Blood, &c.

The Poets feign'd Jove turn'd a Swan,

But let them prove it, if they can:

As for our Proof 'tis not at all hard,

For it was a swapping, fwapping MALLARD.

Oh! by the Blood, &c.

Swapping he was from Bill to Eye;
Swapping he was from Wing to Thigh;
His Swapping Tool of Generation
Out-swapped all the wing'd Creation:

Oh! by the Blood, &c.

Therefore let us fing and dance a Galliard,
To the Remembrance of the MALLARD:
And as the Mallard dives in Pool,

Let us dabble, dive, and duck in Bowl.

Oh! by the Blood of King Edward,
Oh! by the Blood of King Edward,
It was a fwopping fwopping Mallard.

A SONG

In Honour of the Celebration of the BOAR'S HEAD, At QUEEN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD.

Tam Marti quam Mercurio.

Sing not of Roman or Grecian mad Games, The Pythian, Olympic, and such like hard Names ; Your Patience awhile with Submiffion I beg, I ftrive but to honour the Feast of Coll. Reg.

Derry down, down, down, derry down.

No Thracian Brawls at our Rites ere prevail,
We temper our Mirth with plain fober mild Ale;
The tricks of old Circe deter us from Wine;

Though we honour a Boar, we won't make ourselves

Swine,

Derry down, &c.

F 3

Great

Great Milo was famous for flaying his Ox,
Yet he prov'd but an Afs in cleaving of Blocks:
But We had a Hero for all Things was fit,
Our Motto displays both his Valour and Wit.

Derry down, &c.

Stout Hercules labour'd, and look'd mighty big,
When he flew the half-ftarv'd Erymanthian Pig,
But we can relate fuch a Stratagem taken,

That the ftouteft of Boars, could not fave his own

Bacon.

Derry down, &c.

So dreadful this bristle-back'd Foe did appear,
You'd have fworn he had got the wrong Pig by the Ear.
But instead of avoiding the Mouth of the Beaft,

He ramm'd in a Volume, and cry'd' Græcum eft.
Derry down, &c.

In this gallant Action such Fortitude shewn is,

As

proves him no Coward, nor tender Adonis; No Armour but Logic; by which we may find That Logic's the Bulwark of Body and Mind.

Derry down, &c.

Ye Squires that fear neither Hills nor rough Rocks,
And think
you're full wife when you outwit a Fox;
Enrich your poor Brains and expose them no more,
Learn Greek, and feek Glory from hunting the Boar.
Derry down, &c.

EPIGRAM on an EPIGRAM.

ON

I.

NE Day in Chrift-Church Meadows walking,
Of Poetry, and fuch Things talking,

Says Ralph, a merry Wag,

An EPIGRAM, if right and good,
In all it's Circumstances shou'd

Be like a Jelly-Bug.

Your

II.

Your Simile, I own, is new,

But how do'ft make it out, quoth Hugh?
Quoth Ralph, I'll tell thee Friend;

Make it at Top both wide and fit
To hold a Budget-full of Wit,

And point it at the End*.

N. B. This Epigram is printed from the original Manufcript, preferved in the ARCHIVES of the Jelly-Bag Society.

An