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ON MRS. PULTENEY.
WITH SCornful mien, and various toss of air, Fantastic, vain, and insolently fair, Grandeur intoxicates her giddy brain, She looks ambition, and she moves disdain. Far other carriage grac'd her virgin life, But charming G-y's lost, in P-y's wife. Not greater arrogance in him we find, And this conjunction swells at least her mind : O could the sire, renown'd in glass, produce One faithful mirror for his daughter's use! Wherein she might her haughty errors trace, And by reflection learn to mend her face : The wonted sweetness to her form restore, Be what she was, and charm mankind once more.
A FAREWELL TO LONDON
IN THE YEAR 1714.
DEAR, damn'd, distracting town, farewell!
Soft B-s and rough C- --, adieu !
May knock up whores alone.
To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd
Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery
Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;
Heaven gives thee for thy loss of Rowe,
Why should I stay? Both parties rage;
The wits in envious feuds engage;
The love of arts lies cold and dead
And not one Muse of all he fed,
My friends, by turns, my friends confound, Betray, and are betray'd:
Poor Yrs sold for fifty pounds,
Why make I friendships with the great,
Still idle, with a busy air,
Deep whimsies to contrive; The gayest valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake alive.
Solicitous for other ends,
Tho' fond of dear repose; Careless or drowsy with my friends, And frolic with my foes.
Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell
Adieu to all but Gay alone,
Whose soul, sincere and free, Loves all mankind, but flatters none, And so may starve with me.
These lines were added by MR. POPE after the present Conclusion of his Address to MISS MARTHA BLOUNT, on her leaving Town, &c. "As some fond Virgin," &c.
In this strange town a different course we take, Refine ourselves to spirit, for your sake. For want of you, we spend our random wit on The first we find with Needham, Brooks, or Briton. Hackney'd in sin, we beat about the town, And like sure spaniels, at first scent lie down : Were Virtue's self in silks-faith keep away! Or virtue's virtue scarce would last a day.
Thus, Madam, most men talk, and some men do; The rest is told you in a line or two.
Some strangely wonder you're not fond to marry-
The following Lines were sung by DURASTANTI, when she took her leave of the English Stage. The Words were in Haste put together by MR. POPE, at the Request of the EARL of PETERBOROW.
GENEROUS, gay, and gallant nation,
All but Cupid's gentle darts!
Happy soil, adieu, adieu !
Let old charmers yield to new.
In arms, in arts, be still more shining;
All your tastes be still refining;
But let old charmers yield to new :-