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But in thy prose 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 froin the poisonous feed.
Thy labours, Lownds, can greater wonders do;
Thou raiseft armies, and canst 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 cursed hard to lay.

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E P I S T L E XI.

1

Τ Ο Α YOUNG LADY.

WITH SOME L AMPRE Y S.
WITH lovers 'twas of old the fashion

By presents to convey their paifion;
No matter what the gift they sent,
The lady saw that love was meant.
Fair Atalanta, as a favour,
Took the boar's head her Hero

gave

her
Nor could the bristly thing affront her;
'Twas a fit present from a hunter.
When squires send woodcocks to the dame,
It serves to shew their absent Aame.
Some by a snip of woven hair,
In posied 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 send songs that cost him nought,
Nor ev'n be prodigal of thought.

Why then send Lampreys ? Fye, for shame!
"Twill set 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 scold,
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 mof immodest diet : 6 You 'll neither wake nor sleep in quiet. u Should I to-night eat Sago-cream, “ 'Twould make me blush to tell my dream ; “ If I eat Lobster, 'tis so warming, “ That every man I see looks charming ; “ Wherefore had not the filthy fellow “ Laid Rochester upon your pillow ? “ I vow and swear, I think the present “ Had been as modest and as decent.

“ Who has her virtue in her power? “ Each day has its unguarded hour; “ Always in danger of undoing, A prawn, a shrimp, may prove our ruin !

“ The shepherdefs, who lives on sallad, " 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 see Nymphs lying like Calisto.

“ The man, who meant to heat your blood, * Needs not himself such vicious food

In I own, your aunt is clear, I fent

you

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

EPISTLE

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WHAT

'HAT cxtafies her holom fire !

How her eyes languish with desire !
How blest, how happy, should I be,
Were that fond glance bestow'd on me !
New doubts and fears within mc war :
What rival's near? a china-jar.

China's the pasfion of her soul :
A cup, a plate, a dish, a bowl,
Can kindle wishes in her breast,
Infame with joy, or break her rest.

Some gems collect; some medals prize,
And view the rust with lovers' eyes ;
Some court the stars 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 stars are in this brighter sphere,
My lily and my rose is here.

Philosophers, more grave than wise,
Hunt science down in butterflies ;

Or,

Or, fondly poring on a spider,
Stretch human contemplation wider.
Fofils give joy to Galen's soul;
He digs for knowledge, like a mole ;
In shells fo learn'd, that all agree
No fish that swims knows more than he!
In such pursuits if wifdom lies,
Who, Laura, shall thy taste despise ?

When I fome antique jar behold,
Or white, or blue, or speck'd with gold;
Vessels so pure, and so refin'd,
Appear the types of woman-kind :
Are they not valued for their beauty,
Too fair, too fine, for houshold duty ?
With flowers and gold and azure dy’d,
Of every houfe the grace and pride ?
How white, how polith'd is their skin,
And valued most when only seen!
She, who before was lrighest priz’d,
Is for a crack or flaw defpis'do.
I grant they 're frail ; yet they 're fo rare,
The treasure cannot cost too dear!
But man is inade of coarfer stuff,
And serves convenience well-enough ;
He's a strong earthen vessel, made
For drudging, labour, toil, and trade ;
And, when wives lose their other self,
With ease they bear the loss of self.

Husbands, more covetous than sage,
Condemn this china-buying rage ;

P4

They

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