Imatges de pàgina
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É'en crowded routs where dullness ever dwelis,
Can yield delight to fashionable belles.
Old maids and prudes each night, to feed their fplech,
There, feeking whom they may devour, are seen,
And, ftill repining that they must be chaste,
Would mar those pleasures they're forbid to taste ;
With envious eye the brilliant nymph they view,
Whilft
eager

crowds where'er she moves pursue.
If to the play-house she by chance repair,
(Not oft frequented by the well bred fair)
When through the house a folemn silence reigns,
Each bosom feeling what the actor feigns,
E'en in the midst of some affecting part,
That wakes each soft emotion of the heart,
The doors fly open whilst the pit beneath
Their discontent in fullen murmurs breathe ::
Forward the steps with graceful air, and spreads
A blaze of beauty o'er their wond'ring heads :
Pit, boxes, gall’ries, all at once concur,
Forget the play, and fix their eyes on her.
Scarce to the stage she turns her high-plum'd head,
Or seems to mark one syllable that's said;
But careless fits, and on her arm reclin'd
Hears civil speeches from the beaux behind;
Or gently liftens while some well-dress'd youth
In whisper'd accents vows eternal truth.
Obedient still to pleasure's sprightly call
She quits the play, and seeks the livelier ball :
Each white glov'd beau with hafte his suit prefers,
Presents his hand, and humbly begs for hers.
Well pleas'd she hears the suppliant crowds intreat,
And feels the triumph of her charms complete.
Should some bleft youth be to the rest preferid,
Whose vows in private are with favour heard,
As through the dance with graceful ease she mover
Their meeting hands express their conscious loves,
Malicious

eyes

the lover's looks restrain, And cold discretion seals his lips in vain ;

U

The faithful hand can unobserv'd impart
The secret feelings of a tender heart :
And oh! what bliss, when each alike is pleas'd !
The hand that squeezes, and the hand that's squeez’d,
Eut whither, whither does my fancy roam ;
Ah! let me call the idle wand'rer home.
Already Piæbus, with unwelcome ray,
Has chas'd, alas! the winter's fogs away ;
Through the sad town, at each deserted door,
Less frequent now the footman's thunders roar,
And waggon's loading in the dusty street,
Forbode the horrors of a long retreat.
Ye lifter suff'rers, who muft fuon or late
All share my furrows, and partake my fate,
Who, when condemn'd thele bleft abodes to quit,
Like me may weep, but must like me submit,
When overcome by man's superior force,
Revenge is fill the injured fair's resource :
Revenge at least may make our suff'rings less,
A husband's anguilh sooths a wife's distress,
When far from town, in fome sequefier'd spet,
You mourn the hardship of our fex's lut,
Ill humour, vapours, fullenness and spleen,
May add freih horrors to the gloomy scene,
And make the tyrants who contrive your face
Partake the misery themselves create.
lf, presy'd by cares, ihey need a friend's relief,
Be all your ftudy to augment their grief;
If pleas'd or gay, your utmost arts employ
Tofink their spirits and dispel their joy:
Oppose their projects, crura their fav’rite viei's,
Their wishco Fruitrate, their requests refuse ;
And make them feel that discontented wives
Cap prove the torment of their husband's lives.

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By the Right Hon. the Earl of CARLISLE.

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Describ'd cach power that rules the throbbing

heart,
Feign'd all that love, that glory e'er inspir'd,
That warm’d a Romeo, or ä Percy fir'd,
In love's sweet caufe be now thy magic try'd,
And charm with future scenes

my

deilio'd bride!

Lo! at thy call, fiends cross the blasted heath,
And rising spectres daunt the pale Macbeth,
Who doom'd by guilt his anxious eye to cast
O'er dim futurity's unravell’d waste,
On alien brows beheld his wrested crown,
Deplor'd the past, and saw the future frown !

Oh, once again these wond'rous spells prepare,
With milder visions point th' embodied air !
No more in caves let fires infernal glow,
Nor call thy phantoms from the world below.
In Laura's fight let Hymen's altar blaze,
Let Cupid's torch diffuse its brightest rays,
Let smiling hours in festive circles dance,
And white-rob’d priests to meet our steps advance ;
In distant view be love's dear pledges shown,
And all the long succession live our own!

So, round the favour'd tomb, thy hallow'd urn,
May ev'ry muse her vestal incense burn!
Siill
may

those laureat brows their honours wear,
Secure from critics, envy, and Voltaire !
Still on the stage thou reard'It may Garrick stand,
For Shakespeare's lyre obevs no other hand!
Still feep thy page near Laura's pillow plac'd,
And future comments grace thee like the last !

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W

HERE the loveliest expreflion to features is

join'd By nature's most delicate pencil design'l; Where blushes unbidden, and smiles without art, Speak the softness and feeling that dwell in the heart ; Where in manners enchanting no blemish we trace, But the soul keeps the promile we had from the face ; Sure philosophy, reafon, and coldness must proye Defences unequal to shield us from love : Then tell me, mysterious enchanter, oh tell; By what wonderful art, by what magical spell, My heart is so fenc'd that for once I am wise, And gaze without

raptures on Amoret's eyes; . That

my

wishes which never were bounded before, Are here bounded by friendship, and ask for no more.

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