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That rob in clans, like men o' th' Highland ; The little pleasure of the game
Is from afar to view the flight.
Our anxious pains we, all the day,
In search of what we like, employ: And twenty other stranger matters ;
Scorning at night the worthless prey,
We find the labour gave the joy.
At distance through an artful glass
To the mind's eye things well appear : From whose remarks I give opinion
They lose their forms, and make a mass On twenty books, yet ne'er look in one.
Confus'd and black if brought too near. Then all your wits that fleer and sham,
If we see right, we see our woes: Down from Don Quixote to Tom Tram ;
Then what avails it to have eyes? From whom I jests and puns purloin,
From ignorance our comfort flows:
The only wretched are the wise.
We wearied should lie down in death :
This cheat of life would take no more ; To bottled ale, and neighbouring vicar;
If you thought fame but empty breath, Sometimes at Stamford take a quart,
I Phillis but a perjur'd whore. Squire Shephard's health-With all my heart.
Thus without much delight or grief, I fool away an idle life:
THE LADY'S LOOKING-GLASS. Till Shadwell from the town retires (Chok'd up with fame and sea-coal fires)
IN IMITATION OF A GREEK IDYLLIUM. To bless the wood with peaceful lyric:
Celia and I the other day Then hey for praise and panegyric;
Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea : Justice restor'd, and nations freed,
The setting sun adorn’d the coast,
And, on the surface of the deep,
The nymph did like the scene appear,
Soft fell her words, as flew the air.
With secret joy I heard her say, Howe'er, 'tis well, that while mankind
That she would never miss one day Through fate's perverse meander errs,
A walk so fine, a sight so gay. He can imagin'd pleasures find,
But, oh the change! the winds grow high; To combat against real cares.
Impending tempests charge the sky:
The lightning flies, the thunder roars ; Fancies and notions he pursues,
And big waves lash the frighten'd shores. Which ne'er had being but in thought;
Struck with the horror of the sight, Each, like the Grecian artist, woos
She turns her head, and wings her flight: The image he himself has wrought.
And, trembling, vows she'll ne'er again
Approach the shore, or view the main.
Once more at least look back, said I,
Thyself in that large glass descry:
When thou art in good-humour drest; And sets his judgment by his passion.
When gentle reason rules thy breast; The hoary fool, who many days
The sun upon the calmest sea Has struggled with continued sorrow,
Appears not half so bright as thee :
'Tis then that with delight I rove Renews his hope, and blindly lays The desperate bet upon tomorrow.
Upon thy boundless depth of love :
I bless my chain; I hand my oar; Tomorrow comes ; 'tis noon, 'tis night;
Nor think on all I left on shore. This day like all the former flies:
But when vain doubt and groundless fear Yet on be rans, to seek delight
Do that dear foolish bosom tear Tomorrow, till to-night he dies.
When the big lip and watery eye
the rising storm is nigh ; Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim
'Tis then, thou art yon angry main, At objects in an airy height:
Deform'd by winds, and dash'd by rain ;
AFTERWARDS EARL OF HALIFAX,
And the poor sailor, that must try
THE DOVE. Its fury, labours less than I.
«-Tantæne animis cælestibus iræ ?"
VIRG. Shipwreck'd, in vain to land I make,
In Virgil's sacred verse we find,
That passion can depress or raise
The heavenly, as the human mind : Wretched when from thee, vex'd when nigh,
Who dare deny what Virgil says ? I with thee, or without thee, die.
But, if they should, what our great master
Has thus laid down, my tale shall prove: LOVE DISARMED.
Fair Venus wept the sad disaster
Of having lost her favourite dove.
In complaisance poor Cupid mourn'd;
His grief reliev'd his mother's pain; And in that heaven desir'd to rest:
He vow'd he'd leave no stone unturn'd,
But she should have her dove again.
Though none, said he, shall yet be nam’d,
I know the felon well enough: Yet mistress of herself, devis'd
But be she not, mamma,
condemn'd How she the vagrant might enthral,
Without a fair and legal proof.
With that, his longest dart he took,
As constable would take his staff: The silken bond, and held him fast,
That gods desire like men to look,
Would make ev'n Heraclitus laugh.
Love's subalterns, a duteous band,
Like watchmen, round their chief appear : Fluttering the god, and weeping, said,
Each had his lantern in his hand; Pity poor Cupid, generous maid,
And Venus mask'd brought up the rear. Who happen’d, being blind, to stray, And on thy bosom lost his way ;
Accoutred thus, their eager step Who stray'd, alas! but knew too well,
To Cloe's lodging they directed : He never there must hope to dwell:
(At once I write, alas! and weep, Set an unhappy prisoner free,
That Cloe is of theft suspected).
Late they set out, had far to go:
St. Dunstan's as they pass'd struck one. What are his haunts, or which his way;
Cloe, for reasons good, you know,
Lives at the sober end o' th town.
With one great peal they rap the door,
Like footmen on a visiting day. I'll give thee up my bow and dart;
Folks at her house at such an hour ! Untangle but this cruel chain,
Lord! what will all the neighbours say? And freely let me fly again. Agreed : secure my virgin heart :
The door is open : up they run: Instant give up thy bow and dart:
Nor prayers, nor threats, divert their speed: The chain I'll in return untie;
Thieves! thieves! cries Susan ; we're undone; And freely thou again shalt fly.
They'll kill my mistress in her bed.
In bed indeed the nymph had been
Three hours : for all historians say, Passes his life in harmless play;
She commonly went up at ten,
Unless piquet was in the way.
She wak’d, be sure, with strange surprise : Governs the world in Cupid's stead ;
O Cupid, is this right or law, Directs his arrow as she wills;
Thus to disturb the brightest eyes Gives grief, or pleasure ; spares, or kills.
That ever slept, or ever saw ?
But dove, depend on't, finds he none;
So to the bed returns again:
And now the maiden, bolder grown,
Begins to treat him with disdain.
She sigh’d; she smil'd: and to the flowers
Easy with him, ill us’d by thee, Pointing, the lovely moralist said;
Allow this logic to be good ? See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
Sir, will your questions never end? See yonder, what a change is made.
I trust to neither spy nor friend.
In short, I keep her from the sight Ah me! the blooming pride of May,
Of every human face.--She'll write.And that of Beauty, are but one :
From pen and paper she's debarr'd. At morn both flourish bright and gay;
Has she a bodkin and a card ? Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
She'll prick her mind. She will, you say:
But how shall she that mind convey? At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung ;
I keep her in one room: I lock it: The amorous youth around her bow'd:
The key (look here) is in this pocket. At night her fatal knell was rung ;
The key-hole, is that left? Most certain. I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud.
She'll thrust her letter through.—Sir Martin. Such as she is, who died today;
Dear angry friend, what must be done? Such I, alas ! may be tomorrow :
Is there no way ?- There is but one. Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
Send her abroad : and let her see,
That all this mingled mass, which she,
Powder, and pocket-glass, and beau ;
A staple of romance and lies,
False tears and real perjuries : (As Horace has divinely sung)
Where sighs and looks are bought and sold, Could not be kept from Jove's embrace
And love is made but to be told; By doors of steel, and walls of brass.
Where the fat bawd and lavish heir The reason of the thing is clear,
The spoils of ruin'd beauty share; Would Jove the naked truth aver.
And youth, seduc'd from friends and fame, Cupid was with him of the party ;
Must give up age to want and shame. And show'd himself sincere and hearty;
Let her behold the frantic scene, For, give that whipster but his errand,
The women wretched, false the men: He takes my lord chief justice' warrant;
And when, these certain ills to shun, Dauntless as death away he walks:
She would to thy embraces run; Breaks the doors open, snaps the locks;
Receive her with extended arms, Searches the parlour, chamber, study;
Seem more delighted with her charms; Nor stops till he has culprits body.
Wait on her to the park and play, Since this has been authentic truth,
Put on good-humour; make her gay; By age deliver'd down to youth ;
Be to her virtues very kind ; Tell us, mistaken husband, tell us,
Be to her faults a little blind; Why so mysterious, why so jealous ?
Let all her ways be unconfin'd;
And clap your padlock-on her mind.
Hans Carvel, impotent and old, Or have not gold and flattery power
Married a lass of London mould: To purchase one unguarded hour :
Handsome ? enough ; extremely gay: Your care does further yet extend:
Lov'd music, company, and play: That spy is guarded by your friend.
High flights she had, and wit at will; But has this friend nor eye nor heart?
And so her tongue lay seldom still: May he not feel the cruel dart,
For in all visits who but she, Which, soon or late, all mortals feel ?
To argue or to repartee? May he not, with too tender zeal,
She made it plain, that human passion Give the fair prisoner cause to see
Was order’d by predestination ; How much he wishes she were free?
That, if weak women went astray, May he not craftily infer
Their stars were more in fault than they : The rules of friendship too severe,
Whole tragedies she had by heart; Which chain him to a hated trust;
Enter'd into Roxana's part: Which make him wretched, to be just?
To triumph in her rival's blood, And may not she, this darling she,
The action certainly was good. Youthful and healthy, flesh and blood,
How like a vine young Ammon curl'd!
Oh that dear conqueror of the world!
The devil says; I bring relief. She pitied Betterton in age,
Relief! says Hans: pray, let me crave
Your name, Sir?-Satan—Sir, your slave;
I did not look upon your feet :
You'll pardon me :-Ay, now I see't: So in a morning, without bodice,
And pray, Sir, when came you from hell? Slipt sometimes out to Mrs. Thody's;
Our friends there, did you leave them well ? To cheapen tea, to buy a screen :
All well; but pr’ythee, honest Hans, What else could so much virtue mean?
(Says Satan) leave your complaisance : For, to prevent the least reproach,
The truth is this; I cannot stay
Flaring in sunshine all the day :
For, entre nous, we hellish sprites
Love more the fresco of the nights; She without fail was wak'd at ten;
And oftener our receipts convey Drank chocolate, then slept again :
In dreams, than any other way. At twelve she rose; with much ado
I tell you therefore as a friend, Her clothes were huddled on by two;
Ere morning dawns, your fears shall end : Then, does my lady dine at home?
Go then this evening, master Carvel, Yes, sure !-But is the colonel come?
Lay down your fowls, and broach your barrel; Next, how to spend the afternoon,
Let friends and wine dissolve your care; And not come home again too soon ;
Whilst I the great receipt prepare : The Change, the city, or the play,
To-night I'll bring it, by my faith! As each was proper for the day:
Believe for once what Satan saith. A turn in summer to Hyde-park,
Away went Hans; glad: not a little;
Obey'd the devil to a tittle;
Invited friends some half a dozen,
The colonel and my lady's cousin. He thought of what he did not name;
The meat was serv’d; the bowls were crown'd; And would reform, but durst not blame.
Catches were sung: and healths went round; At first he therefore preach'd his wife
Barbadoes waters for the close; The comforts of a pious life :
Till Hans had fairly got his dose : Told her, how transient beauty was ;
The colonel toasted “ to the best :"
The dame mov'd off, to be undrest:
The chimes went twelve: the guests withdrew: And doubled down the useful places.
But, when, or how, Hans hardly knew. But still the weight of worldly care
Some modern anecdotes aver, Allow'd her little time for prayer:
He nodded in his elbow chair; And Cleopatra was read o'er;
From thence was carried off to bed, While Scot, and Wake, and twenty more,
John held his heels, and Nan his head.
My lady was disturb’d: new sorrow!
Which Hans must answer for tomorrow.
In bed then view this happy pair;
And think how Hymen triumph'd there.
Hans fast asleep as soon as laid;
The duty of the night unpaid :
The waking dame, with thoughts opprest,
That made her hate both him and rest : What if to spells I had recourse?
By such a husband, such a wife! 'Tis but to hinder something worse.
'Twas Acme's and Septimius' life: The end must justify the means;
The lady sigh'd: the lover snor'd : He only sins who ill intends:
The punctual devil kept his word: Since therefore 'tis to combat evil;
Appear'd to honest Hans again ;
But not at all by madam seen : *Tis lawful to employ the devil.
And giving him a magic ring,
Fit for the finger of a king; (for name him and he's always near):
Dear Hans, said he, this jewel take, Not in the shape in which he plies
And wear it long for Satan's sake: At miss's elbow when she lies;
'Twill do your business to a hair : Or stands before the nursery doors,
For, long as you this ring shall wear,
As sure as I look over Lincoln,
That ne'er shall happen which you think on.
Hans took the ring with joy extreme