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O, had her eyes forgot to blaze!
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze;
O! But let exclamations cease,
Her presence banish'd all his peace.*
So with decorum all things carried;

Miss frown'd and blush'd, and then was-married.

Need we expose to vulgar sight
The raptures of the bridal night?
Need we intrude on hallow'd ground,
Or draw the curtains clos'd around?
Let it suffice, that each had charms;
He clasp'd a goddess in his arms:
And, though she felt his usage rough,†
Yet, in a man, 'twas well enough.

The honey-moon like lightning flew;
The second brought its transports too:
A third, a fourth, were not amiss,
The fifth was friendship mix'd with bliss:
But when a twelvemonth pass'd away,
Jack found his goddess made of clay;

* [Here followed, in the first edition:

"Our alter'd parson now began
To be a perfect lady's man;

Made sonnets, lisp'd his sermons o'er,
And told the tales oft told before;
Of bailiffs pump'd and proctors bit;
At college how he show'd his wit;
And as the fair one still approv'd,
He fell in love-or thought it love,
So, &c."

The allusion to the "bailiffs pump'd" applies to an incident in the Poet's own college

career. See Life, ch. iii.]

↑ ["And though she felt his visage rough."-Orig.]

Found half the charms that deck'd her face

Arose from powder, shreds, or lace: But still the worst remain'd behind, face had robb'd her mind.

That very

Skill'd in no other arts was she, But dressing, patching, repartee; And, just as humor rose or fell, By turns a slattern or a belle.

'Tis true she dress'd with modern grace, Half naked at a ball or race;

But when at home, at board or bed,

Five greasy night-caps wrapp'd her head.
Could so much beauty condescend

To be a dull domestic friend?
Could any curtain lectures bring
To decency so fine a thing?

In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting;
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting.
Fond to be seen, she kept a bevy*

Of powder'd coxcombs at her levy ;

The 'squire and captain took their stations,

And twenty other near relations:

Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke

A sigh in suffocating smoke;t

While all their hours were pass'd between Insulting repartee or spleen.

Thus as her faults each day were known, He thinks her features coarser grown;

["Now tawdry madam kept a bevy."-Orig.] t["She in her turn became perplexing,

And found substantial bliss in vexing."-Ib.]

He fancies every vice she shows,

Or thins her lip, or points her nose:
Whenever rage or envy rise,—

How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes!
He knows not how, but so it is,

Her face is grown a knowing phiz;

And, though her fops are wond'rous civil, He thinks her ugly as the devil.

Now to perplex the ravell'd noose, As each a different way pursues, While sullen or loquacious strife Promised to hold them on for life, That dire disease, whose ruthless power Withers the beauty's transient flower:Lo! the small pox, whose horrid glare Levell'd its terrors at the fair; And, rifling every youthful grace, Left but the remnant of a face.

The glass, grown hateful to her sight,

Reflected now a perfect fright:

Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes;
In vain she tries her paste and creams,
To smooth her skin, or hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens;
The squire himself was seen to yield,
And ev'n the captain quit the field.

Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack The rest of life with anxious Jack,

140

Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old :
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;

For tawdry finery is seen
A person ever neatly clean:
No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good-nature every day:
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,
Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.

A NEW SIMILE.

IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT.

Long had I sought in vain to find
A likeness for the scribbling kind;
The modern scribbling kind, who write,
In wit, and sense, and nature's spite;
'Till reading, I forget what day on,
A chapter out of Tooke's Pantheon,
I think I met with something there
To suit my purpose to a hair;
But let us not proceed too furious;
First please to turn to God Mercurius!
You'll find him pictur'd at full length,
In book the second, page the tenth:
The stress of all my proofs on him I lay,
And now proceed we to our simile.

* [Printed in the Essays, 1765.]

Imprimis; pray observe his hat,
Wings upon either side-mark that.

Well! what is it from thence we gather?
Why, these denote a brain of feather.
A brain of feather! very right,
With wit that's flighty, learning light;
Such as to modern bard's decreed;
A just comparison,-proceed.

In the next place, his feet peruse,
Wings grow again from both his shoes;
Design'd no doubt their part to bear,
And waft his godship through the air;
And here my simile unites;
For in the modern poet's flights,

I'm sure it may be justly said,

His feet are useful as his head.

Lastly, vouchsafe t' observe his hand,
Fill'd with a snake-encircled wand;
By classic authors term'd Caduceus,
And highly fam'd for several uses.
To wit-most wond'rously endu'd,
No poppy-water half so good;
For let folks only get a touch,
Its soporific virtue's such,

Though ne'er so much awake before,
That quickly they begin to snore.

Add too, what certain writers tell,
With this he drives men's souls to Hell.

Now to apply, begin we then :

His wand's a modern author's pen;

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