THE PUBLICAN'S PRAYER.

JOLLY SILENUS, Father of all-infpiring Bacchus, continue, I befeech you, the cuftom of the original Golden Lion, and infpire me, its Landlord, with becoming gratitude for all thy favours, ſtrengthen, I pray thee, the digestive faculties of our worthy Vicar, so that he may nightly repair to my little back-parlour, and meaſure out his money to my advantage. Give Farmer Blunt an additional reliſh for the old BROWN STOUT, on which I have expended so much Tobacco and Treacle in the three laſt brewings. Pardon, I beſeech thee, the vaſt numbers I have been guilty of lending a lift to, in their paſſage through this ſublunary world, by my laſt pretended importation of real IRISH WHISKEY. Yet ſtill my various ſchemes draw caſh from the pockets of my cuſtomers, like patent Machines drawing porter from a cellar. Grant me ſuccesſs, I pray thee, with the Rich Widow of the adjoining ſtreet, whom thou knoweſt I adore, ſend that ſhe may frequently look into the bar, till in time ſhe becomes its fixed ornament:—Oh! ſhe is more lovely than Meux's beſt Intire—her eyes ſparkle like Cyder, fresh decanted—ſhe is blooming as the brighteſt Uſquebaugh, and her breath is sweeter than Royal Gin, or the fumes of Annifeed—no acid lurks in her compoſition, and her temper is mild, as Stretton and Preſton's beſt brewed Ale—to me, ſhe has more charms than a Bowl of Arrack Punch, or a pipe of the beſt Virginia, in ſhort, a gill of her, is worth a pint of other women. O, mirth-loving, gay Silenus! grant but this addition to my ſtock in Trade, and I have nothing to aſk thee for but plenty of ſmuggled ſpirits, and protection from the Excife-man.

SPRAGG, PRINTER, 27, BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN.