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O memory! thou fond deceiver,
And turning all the past to pain:
Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing,
The wretch condemn'd with life to part,
And every pang that rends the heart,
Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,
And still, as darker grows the night,
THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.
Secluded from domestic strife, Jack Book-worm led a college life; A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiest man alive;
He drank his glass, and crack'd his joke,
Such pleasures, unalloy'd with care,
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix
Need we expose to vulgar sight
The honey-moon like lightning flew;
Skill'd in no other arts was she,
"T is 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 any curtain lectures bring
In short, by night, 't was fits or fretting;
The 'squire and captain took their stations,
Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke
While all their hours were pass'd between
Thus as her faults each day were known, He thinks her features coarser grown; 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!
Her face is grown a knowing phiz;
Now to perplex the ravell'd nooze,
The glass, grown hateful to her sight,
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, 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
The stress of all my proofs on him I lay, And now proceed we to our simile.
Imprimis; pray observe his hat,
With wit that's flighty, learning light;
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,
His feet are useful as his head.