But in thy profe a greater force is found;
What Poet ever rais'd ten thousand pound?
Cadmus, by fowing dragons' teeth, we read,
Rais'd a vast army from the poisonous feed.
Thy labours, Lownds, can greater wonders do;
Thou raisest armies, and canft pay them too.
Truce with thy dreaded pen; thy annals cease;
Why need we armies when the land's in peace?
Soldiers are perfect devils in their way;

When once they're rais'd, they 're curfed hard to lay.

EPISTLE XI.

TO A

YOUNG LADY.

WITH SOME LAMPREYS.

WITH lovers 'twas of old the fashion

By prefents to convey their paffion;

No matter what the gift they fent,
The lady faw that love was meant.
Fair Atalanta, as a favour,

Took the boar's head her Hero gave her;
Nor could the briftly thing affront her;
'Twas a fit present from a hunter.
When squires fend woodcocks to the dame,
It ferves to fhew their abfent flame.

Some by a snip of woven hair,
In pofied lockets, bribe the fair.
How many mercenary matches

Have sprung from diamond-rings and watches!
But hold-a ring, a watch, a locket,

Would drain at once a Poet's pocket;

He should fend fongs that coft him nought,

Nor ev'n be prodigal of thought.

Why then fend Lampreys? Fye, for flame! 'Twill fet a virgin's blood on flame. This to fifteen a proper gift!

It might lend fixty-five a lift.

I know your maiden aunt will fcold, And think my present somewhat bold.

5

I fee

I fee her lift her hands and eyes:

"What! eat it, Niece; eat Spanish flies! "Lamprey's a most immodeft diet: "You'll neither wake nor fleep in quiet. "Should I to-night eat Sago-cream, "Twould make me blush to tell my dream; "If I eat Lobster, 'tis fo warming, "That every man I fee looks charming; "Wherefore had not the filthy fellow "Laid Rochester upon your pillow? “I vow and swear, I think the present "Had been as modeft and as decent.

"Who has her virtue in her power?
"Each day has its unguarded hour;
"Always in danger of undoing,

"A prawn, a fhrimp, may prove our ruin!
"The fhepherdefs, who lives on fallad,
"To cool her youth, controls her palate.
"Should Dian's maids turn liquorish livers,
"And of huge lampreys rob the rivers,
“Then, all beside each glade and visto,

"You'd fee Nymphs lying like Calisto.

"The man, who meant to heat your blood, "Needs not himself fuch vicious food-"

In this, I own, your aunt is clear,

I fent you what I well might spare :
For, when I fee you, (without joking)
Your eyes, lips, breafts, are so provoking,
They fet my heart more cock-a-hoop,
Than could whole feas of craw-fish foup.

p ༣ ་

EPISTLE

EPISTLE

то A LADY,

ON HER

XII.

PASSION FOR OLD CHINA.

WHAT extafies her bofom fire!

How her eyes languish with defire!

How bleft, how happy, fhould I be,
Were that fond glance bestow'd on me!
New doubts and fears within me war:
What rival's near? a china-jar.
China's the paffion of her foul:
A cup, a plate, a dish, a bowl,
Can kindle wishes in her breast,
Inflame with joy, or break her reft.

Some gems collect; fome medals prize,
And view the ruft with lovers' eyes ;
Some court the ftars at midnight-hours;
Some doat on Nature's charms in flowers;
But every beauty I can trace

In Laura's mind, in Laura's face;
My ftars are in this brighter fphere,
My lily and my rose is here.

Philofophers, more grave than wife,
Hunt fcience down in butterflies ;

Or,

Or, fondly poring on a fpider,
Stretch human contemplation wider.
Fofils give joy to Galen's foul;
He digs for knowledge, like a mole;
In fhells fo learn'd, that all agree

No fish that fwims knows more than he!
In fuch purfuits if wifdom lies,
Who, Laura, fhall thy tafte defpife?
When I fome antique jar behold,
Or white, or blue, or fpeck'd with gold;
Veffels fo pure, and so refin'd,
Appear the types of woman-kind :
Are they not valued for their beauty,
Too fair, too fine, for houfhold duty?
With flowers and gold and azure dy'd,
Of every houfe the grace and pride?
How white, how polifh'd is their skin,
And valued moft when only feen!
She, who before was higheft priz'd,
Is for a crack or flaw defpis'd.

I grant they're frail; yet they 're fo rare,
The treasure cannot coft too dear!
But man is made of coarfer ftuff,
And ferves convenience well-enough;
He's a strong earthen veffel, made
For drudging, labour, toil, and trade;
And, when wives lofe their other felf,
With cafe they bear the lofs of delf.
Hufbands, more covetous than fage,
Condemn this china-buying rage;