Can I then hear, enrag'd she said,
Slights offer'd to my fav'rite maid,
The nymph whom I decreed to be
The representative of me?
The Goddess ceas'd-the Gods all bow'd,
Nor one the wicked bard avow'd,
Who, while in Beauty's praife he writ,
Dar'd Beauty's Goddess to omit:
For now their godfhips recollected,
'Twas Venus' felf he had neglected,
Who in her vifits to this place
Had ftill worn Betty Dalston's face.
FROM HER VOTARIES OF THE STREET,
RE these thy palms? oh queen of love!
Pity thy wretched votaries! From above
Behold them stroll, their bofoms bare,
Chill'd with the blafts of rude St. Clement's air;
And twitch the fleeve with fly advance:
Roll the bright eye, or fhoot the fide-long glance:
Whilst the chafte moon, with envious light
Peeps through the curtain of the freezing night.
Not thus when Horace hymn'd thy praise,
You heard the Glyceras of happier days.
Oh goddess of love's pleafing pain!
From thy own ifle avert the frost, and rain;
Nor let the little mouth inhale,
(Bane to the teeth) a rough, unfriendly gale;
Or flender ancle white, and neat,
Betray a splash from the polluted street,
Look down with pity on the woes,
That trace our footsteps, and our haunts enclose,
For thee, we forfeit fair renown,
Brave want and danger, orphans of the town;
For thee, fuftain the cruel fhock
Of caustic Franks, and cicatrizing Rock":
Happy! if Hermes' timely care,
The fearching deity of here and there,
Can foften the venereal doom,
And keep awhile pale beauty from the tomb.
But languid! lifelefs, cold and bare,
Gone every tooth, and fallen every hair,
A prey to grief, remorfe, disease !—
Ah! Paphian Venus, faithlefs as the feas!
Fir'd by thy spells, and magic charms,
We guiltless virgins glow'd at foft alarms,
Embark'd with youth, and airy fmiles,
The graces, playful loves, and wanton wiles;
On pleasure's wave we loos'd the fails,
Alas; too credulous of flatt'ring gales;
For lo! the heav'ns with clouds are spread,
The graces, loves, with youth are fled,
And leave the fhip, an easy prize,
Unrigg'd and leaky to th' inclement skies.
Dropt a thing in verse, without a name;
I felt no cenfure, and I gain'd no fame :
The public saw the bastard in the cradle,
But ne'er enquir'd: fo left it to the beadle.
A certain nobleman takes up the child,
The real father lay perdue, and smil❜d.
The public now enlarges every grace,
What shining eyes it has! how fair a face!
Of parts what fymmetry! what strength divine!
The noble brat is fure of Pelops' line.
HE glow-worm fcribblers of a feeble age,
Pale twinklers of an hour, provoke my rage;
In each dark hedge we start an infect fire,
Which lives by night, and must at dawn expire;
Yet fuch their number, that their specks combine,
And the unthinking vulgar fwear they shine.
Poets are prodigies fo greatly rare,
They seem the tasks of heav'n, and built with care;
Like funs, unquench'd, unrival'd and fublime,
They roll, immortal, o'er the wastes of time;
Ages in vain close round and snatch in fame;
High over all still fhines the Poet's name!
Lords of a life that scorns the bounds of breath,
They stretch existence, and defy stern death.
Glory and fhame are theirs-They plant renown,
Or fhade the Monarch's by the Mufe's crown:
To fay Auguftus reign'd when Virgil fhin'd,
Does honour to the lord of half mankind.
So when three thousand years
And POPE is faid to have liv'd when GEORGE bore sway,
Millions fhall lend the King the Poet's fame,
And blefs implicit the Supported name,
To POLLY LAURENCE, QUITTING THE PUmp.
BATH, JANUARY 17562.
PITE of beauty, air, and grace,
of air,
With honour haft thou run thy race!
In funfbine well thy part thou'ft play'd -
Now, fweet Polly, feek the shade.
The prudent general, though beat,
Réaps honour from a good retreat;
But nobler thou, thy thoufands kill'd,
With flying colours leav'st the field.
Let not retirement give thee spleen,
Thy fex's longing-to be feen:
But teach the vicious and the vain,
Their pleasure's but refining pain.
Teach the gay by thy retreat,
Eternal giggle is not wit;
And the formal fool advife,
Prudery cannot make her wife.
Take with thee to thy private state
Th' applaufes of the good and great;
The best reward below allow'd
Of a conduct great and good.
|