How many maids have Sharper's vows deceived?

How many cursed the moment they believed?

Yet his known falsehood could no warning prove: Ah! what is warning to a maid in love?

CARDELIA.

But of what marble must that breast be form'd, To gaze on basset, and remain unwarm'd?

When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are set in decent rank; Exposed in glorious heaps the tempting bank, Guineas, half-guineas, all the shining train; The winner's pleasure, and the loser's pain: 80 In bright confusion open rouleaus lie, They strike the soul, and glitter in the eye.

Fired by the sight, all reason I disdain; My passions rise, and will not bear the rein.

Look upon basset, you who reason boast, And see if reason must not there be lost.

SMILINDA.

What more than marble must that heart compose, Can hearken coldly to my Sharper's vows?

Then, when he trembles, when his blushes rise, When awful love seems melting in his eyes! 90 With eager beats his Mechlin cravat moves: He loves!--I whisper to myself--he loves!

Such unfeign'd passion in his looks appears, I lose all memory of my former fears; My panting heart confesses all his charms, I yield at once, and sink into his arms: Think of that moment, you who prudence boast; For such a moment, prudence well were lost.

CARDELIA.

At the groom-porter's, batter'd bullies play, Some dukes at Mary-bone bowl time away. 100 But who the bowl or rattling dice compares To basset's heavenly joys, and pleasing cares?

SMILINDA.

Soft Simplicetta dotes upon a beau; Prudina likes a man, and laughs at show.

Their several graces in my Sharper meet; Strong as the footman, as the master sweet.

LOVET.

Cease your contention, which has been too long; I grow impatient, and the tea's too strong.

Attend, and yield to what I now decide; The equipage shall grace Smilinda's side: 110 The snuff-box to Cardelia I decree.

Now leave complaining, and begin your tea.

LINES

ON RECEIVING FROM THE EIGHT HON. THE LADY FRANCES SHIRLEY[63] A STANDISH AND TWO PENS.

1 Yes, I beheld the Athenian queen Descend in all her sober charms; 'And take,' she said, and smiled serene, 'Take at this hand celestial arms:

2 'Secure the radiant weapons wield; This golden lance shall guard desert; And if a vice dares keep the field, This steel shall stab it to the heart.'

3 Awed, on my bended knees I fell, Received the weapons of the sky; And dipp'd them in the sable well, The fount of fame or infamy.

4 'What well? what weapon?' Flavia cries-- 'A standish, steel, and golden pen!

It came from Bertrand's,[64] not the skies; I gave it you to write again.

5 'But, friend, take heed whom you attack; You'll bring a house (I mean of peers) Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black, L---- and all about your ears.

6 'You'd write as smooth again on glass, And run, on ivory, so glib, As not to stick at fool or ass,[65]

Nor stop at flattery or fib.[66]

7 'Athenian queen! and sober charms!

I tell ye, fool, there's nothing in't: 'Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms;[67]

In Dryden's Virgil see the print.[68]

8 'Come, if you'll be a quiet soul, That dares tell neither truth nor lies,[69]

I'll list you in the harmless roll Of those that sing of these poor eyes.'

VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU.

UN JOUR DIT UN AUTEUR, ETC.

Once (says an author--where I need not say) Two travellers found an oyster in their way; Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong, While, scale in hand, Dame Justice pass'd along.

Before her each with clamour pleads the laws, Explain'd the matter and would win the cause.

Dame Justice, weighing long the doubtful right, Takes, opens, swallows it, before their sight.

The cause of strife removed so rarely well, 'There,--take' (says Justice) 'take ye each a shell.

We thrive at Westminster on fools like you: 'Twas a fat oyster--live in peace--adieu.'

ANSWER TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION OF MRS HOWE.

What is prudery?

'Tis a bledam, Seen with wit and beauty seldom.

'Tis a fear that starts at shadows.

Tis, (no, 'tisn't) like Miss Meadows.

'Tis a virgin hard of feature, Old, and void of all good-nature; Lean and fretful; would seem wise; Yet plays the fool before she dies.

'Tis an ugly, envious shrew, That rails at dear Lepell and you.

OCCASIONED BY SOME VERSES OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

Muse, 'tis enough: at length thy labour ends, And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends, Let crowds of critics now my verse assail, Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail: This more than pays whole years of thankless pain; Time, health, and fortune are not lost in vain, Sheffield approves, consenting Phoebus bends, And I and Malice from this hour are friends.

MACER: A CHARACTER.

When simple Macer, now of high renown, First sought a poet's fortune in the town, 'Twas all the ambition his high soul could feel, To wear red stockings, and to dine with Steele.

Some ends of verse his betters might afford, And gave the harmless fellow a good word.

Set up with these, he ventured on the town, And with a borrow'd play, out-did poor Crowne.

There he stopp'd short, nor since has writ a tittle, But has the wit to make the most of little: 10 Like stunted, hide-bound trees that just have got Sufficient sap at once to bear and rot.

Now he begs verse, and what he gets commends, Not of the wits, his foes, but fools, his friends.