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Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début :

The court, the Regent, like herself were new;

New face for friends, for foes some new rewards;

New ornaments for black and royal guards; New laws to hang the rogues that roar'd for bread;

New coins (most new) to follow those that fled;

New victories -nor can we prize them less, Though Jenky wonders at his own success; New wars, because the old succeed so well That most survivors envy those who fell; New mistresses -no, old and yet 't is true, Though they be old, the thing is something

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Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist or down the glowing side,

Where were the rapture then to clasp the form

From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm?

At once love's most endearing thought resign,

To press the hand so press'd by none but thine;

To gaze upon that eye which never met 240 Another's ardent look without regret; Approach the lip which all, without restraint,

Come near enough ·

taint;

If such thou lovest-love her then no more,
Or give, like her, caresses to a score;
Her mind with these is gone, and with it go
The little left behind it to bestow.

if not to touch to

Voluptuous Waltz! and dare I thus blaspheme?

Thy bard forgot thy praises were his theme.
Terpsichore, forgive! - at every ball
My wife now waltzes, and my daughters
shall;

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My son (or stop-'tis needless to inquire-
These little accidents should ne'er transpire;
Some ages hence our genealogic tree
Will wear as green a bough for him as me) —
Waltzing shall rear, to make our name
amends,
Grandsons for me in heirs to all his
friends.

THE BLUES

A LITERARY ECLOGUE

Nimium ne crede colori. - VIRGIL. [Ecl. ii. 17.]

O trust not, ye beautiful creatures, to hue,
Though your hair were as red as your stockings are blue.

ECLOGUE FIRST

London-Before the Door of a Lecture Room. Enter TRACY, meeting INKEL.

With the pride of our belles who have made it the fashion;

So, instead of beaux arts,' we may say ‘la belle passion'

For learning, which lately has taken the lead in

The world, and set all the fine gentlemen reading.

Tra. I know it too well, and have worn out my patience

With studying to study your new publications.

Ink. You're too late.
Tra.
Is it over?

Ink.
Nor will be this hour.
But the benches are cramm'd, like a gar-
den in flower,

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Ink. I heard Quite enough; and, to tell you the truth, my retreat

Was from his vile nonsense no less than the heat.

Tra. I have had no great loss then? Ink. Loss!-such a palaver! I'd inoculate sooner my wife with the slaver

Of a dog when gone rabid, than listen two hours

To the torrent of trash which around him he pours, Pump'd up with such effort, disgorged with such labour, That-come- - do not make me speak ill of one's neighbour. Tra. I make you!

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Ink. Yes, you! I said nothing until You compell'd me, by speaking the truth Tra. To speak ill?

Is that your deduction?

Ink. When speaking of Scamp ill,
I certainly follow, not set an example;
The fellow's a fool, an impostor, a zany.
Tra. And the crowd of to-day shows that
one fool makes many.
But we two will be wise.

Ink.
Pray, then, let us retire.
Tra. I would, but

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I perhaps may as well hold

my tongue;

But there's five hundred people can tell you you're wrong.

Tra. You forget Lady Lilac 's as rich as a Jew.

Ink. Is it miss or the cash of mamma you pursue?

Tra. Why, Jack, I'll be frank with you something of both. The girl's a fine girl.

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Ink. And you feel nothing loth To her good lady-mother's reversion; and yet Her life is as good as your own, I will bet. Tra. Let her live, and as long as she likes; I demand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand.

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Tra.

Why, Do you think me subdued by a Blue-stocking's eye,

So far as to tremble to tell her in rhyme What I've told her in prose, at the least, as sublime ?

Ink. As sublime! If it be so, no need of my Muse.

Tra. But consider, dear Inkel, she 's one

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of the Blues.' Ink. As sublime! Mr. Tracy - I've nothing to say. Stick to prose

Ås sublime!! - but I wish you good day.

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Tra. Nay, stay, my dear fellow

song.

Ink. As sublime !!

sider-I'm wrong;

I own it: but, prithee, compose me the

con

Tra. I but used the expression in haste. Ink. That may be, Mr. Tracy, but shows damn'd bad taste.

Ink. To be sure makes a difference.

Why that

Tra.

Tra. I own it-I know it - acknowledge it - what

Can I say to you more?

Ink.

I see what you'd be at: You disparage my parts with insidious abuse,

Till you think you can turn them best to

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your own use.

Tra. And is that not a sign I respect them?

I know what is what:

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Hark! Zounds, they'll be on us; I know
by the drone
Of old Botherby's spouting ex-cathedrâ

tone.

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Ay! there he is at it. Poor Scamp! better join

Your friends, or he 'll pay you back in

your own coin.

Tra. All fair; 't is but lecture for lecture. Ink. That's clear. But for God's sake let's go, or the Bore will be here.

Come, come: nay, I'm off.

Tra. [Erit INKEL. You are right, and I'll follow; 'Tis high time for a 'Sic me servavit Apollo.' And yet we shall have the whole crew on our kibes, Blues, dandies, and dowagers, and secondhand scribes,

All flocking to moisten their exquisite throttles

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With a glass of Madeira at Lady Bluebottle's. [Erit TRACY.

ECLOGUE SECOND

An Apartment in the House of LADY BLUEBOTTLE. A Table prepared.

SIR RICHARD BLUEBOTTLE solus.

WAS there ever a man who was married so sorry ?

Like a fool, I must needs do the thing in a hurry.

My life is reversed and my quiet destroy'd; My days, which once pass'd in so gentle a void,

Must now, every hour of the twelve, be employ'd:

The twelve, do I say?—of the whole twenty-four,

Is there one which I dare call my own any more?

What with driving and visiting, dancing and dining,

What with learning, and teaching, and scribbling, and shining

In science and art, I'll be cursed if I know

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Myself from my wife; for although we are two,

Yet she somehow contrives that all things shall be done

In a style which proclaims us eternally

one.

But the thing of all things which distresses

me more

Than the bills of the week (though they trouble me sore),

Is the numerous, humorous, backbiting crew Of scribblers, wits, lecturers, white, black, and blue,

Who are brought to my house as an inn, to

my cost

For the bill here, it seems, is defray'd by the host: No pleasure! no leisure! no thought for my pains, But to hear a vile jargon which addles my brains;

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A smatter and chatter, gleaned out of reviews,

By the rag, tag, and bobtail, of those they call 'BLUES;'

- But soft, here

A rabble who know not
they come !
Would to God I were deaf! as I'm not,
I'll be dumb.

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