Слике страница


How many Maids have SHARPER'S vows deceiv'd?
How many curs'd the moment they believ'd?
Yet his known Falfehoods could no Warning prove :
Ah! what is warning to a Maid in Love?




But of what marble must that breast be form'd,
To gaze on Bafset, and remain unwarm'd ?
When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are fet in decent rank;
Expos'd in glorious heaps the tempting Bank,
Guineas, Half-guineas, all the fhining train;
The Winner's pleasure, and the Loser's pain:
In bright confusion open Rouleaus lie,
They strike the Soul, and glitter in the Eye.
Fir'd by the fight, all Reason I disdain ;
My Paffions rife, and will not bear the rein.
Look upon Baffet, you who Reason boast;
And fee if Reason muft not there be loft.


What more than marble must that heart compose,
Can hearken coldly to my SHARPER'S VOWS?
Then, when he trembles! when his Blushes rife!
When awful Love feems melting in his Eyes!
With eager beats his Mechlin Cravat moves:
He loves,-I whifper to myself, He loves!
Such unfeign'd Paflion in his looks appears,
I lofe all Mem'ry of my former Fears;
My panting heart confeffes all his charms,
I yield at once, and fink into his arms.
Think of that moment, you who Prudence boaft;
For fuch a moment, Prudence well were loft.


At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play, Some DUKES at Marybone bowl Time away.






[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]

But who the Bowl, or rattling Dice compares
To Baffet's heav'nly Joys, and pleafing Cares?


Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a Beau; PRUDINA likes a Man, and laughs at Show. Their several graces in my SHARPER meet; Strong as the Footman, as the Master sweet.


Ceafe your contention, which has been too long;
I grow impatient, and the Tea's too strong.
Attend, and yield to what I now decide;
The Equipage fhall grace SMILINDA's Side:
The Snuff-box to CARDELIA I decree,
Now leave complaining, and begin your Tea.

Verbatim from BOILEAU,
Un Jour dit un Auteur, etc.

NCE (fays an Author, where I need not fay)
Two Trav❜llers found an Oyster in their way;
Both fierce, both hungry; the difpute grew ftrong,
While Scale in hand Dame Justice past along.
Before her each with clamour pleads the Laws,
Explain'd the matter, and would win the caufe.
Dame Juftice weighing long the doubtful Right,
Takes, opens, fwallows it, before their fight.
The cause of ftrife remov'd fo rarely well,
There take (fays Justice) take ye each a Shell.
We thrive at Westminster on Fools like you :
'Twas a fat Oyster-Live in peace-Adieu.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

ANSWER to the following Question of Mrs. HowE.


Seen with Wit and Beauty feldom.
'Tis a fear that starts at shadows.
'Tis (no, 'tis'nt) like Mifs Meadows.
"Tis a Virgin hard of Feature,
Old, and void of all good-nature;
Lean and fretful; would feem wife;
Yet plays the fool before fhe dies.
'Tis an ugly envious Shrew,'
That rails at dear Lepell and You..

'Tis a Beldam,

Occafioned by fome Verfes of his Grace the

MUSE, 'tis enough: at length thy labour ends,
And thou fhalt live, for Buckingham commends..
Let Crowds of Critics now my verfe affail,
Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail:
This more than pays whole years of thankless pain,
Time, health, and fortune are not loft in vain,
Sheffield approves, confenting Phoebus bends,.
And I and Malice from this hour are friends.

[ocr errors][merged small]



By Mr. POP E,

To a Play for Mr. DENNIS'S Benefit, in 1733, when he was old, blind, and in great Distress, a little before his Death.

AS S when that Hero, who in each Campaign,
Had brav'd the Goth, and many a Vandal slain,
Lay Fortune-ftruck, a spectacle of Woe!
Wept by each Friend, forgiv'n by ev'ry Foe:
Was there a gen'rous, a reflecting mind,
But pitied BELISARIUS old and blind?
Was there a Chief but melted at the Sight?
A common Soldier, but who clubb'd his Mite?
Such, fuch emotions should in Britons rife,
When prefs'd by want and weakness DENNIS lies; 10
Dennis, who long had warr'd with modern Huns,
Their Quibbles routed, and defy'd their Puns;

This dreaded Sat'rift, Dennis will confefs,
Foe to bis Pride, but Friend to bis Diftrefs.


VER. 6. But pitied Belifarius, etc.] Nothing could be more happily imagined than this allufion, or finelier conducted. And the continued pleasantry fo delicately touched, that it took nothing from the felf-fatisfaction the Critic, who heard it, had in his Merit, or the Audience in their charity. With fo mafterly a hand has the Poet profecuted, in this benevolent irony, that end, which he fuppofed Dennis himself, had he the, wit to fee, would have the ingenuity to approve.

VER. 7. Was there a Chief, etc.] The fine figure of the Commander in that capital Picture of Belifarius at Chifwick, supplied the Poet with this beautiful idea.

A defp'rate Bulwark, fturdy, firm, and fierce
Against the Gothic Sons of frozen verse :
How chang'd from him who made the boxes groan, 15
And shook the stage with thunders all his own!
Stood up to dash each vain PRETENDER's hope,
Maul the French Tyrant, or pull down the POPE!
If there's a Briton then, true bred and born,
Who holds Dragoons and wooden fhoes in fcorn;
If there's a Critic of diftinguifh'd rage;

If there's a Senior, who contemns this age;

Let him to-night his juft affiftance lend,
And be the Critic's, Briton's, Old Man's Friend.





WHEN fimple Macer, now of high renown,

First fought a Poet's Fortune in the Town,
'Twas all th' Ambition his high foul could feel,
To wear red stockings, and to dine with Steel.
Some Ends of verfe his Betters might afford;
And gave the harmless fellow a good word.
Set up with thefe, he ventur'd on the Town,
And with a borrow'd, Play out-did poor Crown.
There he stopp'd fhort, nor fince has writ a tittle,
But has the Wit to make the moft of little :
Like ftunted hide-bound Trees, that just have got
Sufficient Sap at once to bear and rot.


[merged small][ocr errors]
« ПретходнаНастави »