Who now fo impiously blafphemes
Her ointments, daubs, and paints, and creams;
Her washes, flops, and ev'ry clout,
With which he makes fo foul a rout;
He foon would learn to think like me,
And bless his ravish'd eyes to fee
Such order from confufion sprung,
Such gaudy tulips rais'd from dung.
Written in the Year 1730.
F neither brafs, nor marble, can withstand The mortal force of time's deftructive hand: If mountains fink to vales, if cities die, And lefs'ning rivers mourn their fountains dry; When my old caflock, faid a Welch Divine, Is out at elbows, why fhould I repine?
* SCARRON hath a large poem on the same subject.
To an agreeable young Lady, but extremely lean.
Written in the Year 1730.
EATH went upon a folemn day,
At Pluto's hall, his court to pay:
The phantom, having humbly kist
His grifly monarch's footy fift.
Prefented him the weekly bills
Of doctors, fevers, plagues, and pills.
Pluto obferving, fince the peace,
The burial article decrease;
And, vext to fee affairs miscarry,
Declar'd in council, Death must marry :
Vow'd, he no longer could fupport
Old batchelors about his court
The int'reft of his realm had need
That Death should get a num'rous breed;
Young Deathlings, who, by practice made
Proficient in their father's trade,
With colonies might stock around
His large dominions under ground.
A confult of coquets below
"Was call'd, to rig him out a beau:
From her own head Megera takes
A perriwig of twisted fnakes;
Which in the nicest fashion curl'd,
Like * Toupets of this upper world ;.
With flour of fulphur powder'd well,
That graceful on his shoulders fell.
An adder of the fable kind,
In line direct, hung down behind,
The owl, the raven, and the bat,
Club'd for a feather to his hat;
His coat, an us'rer's velvet pall,
Bequeath'd to Pluto, corpfe and all..
But, loth his person to expose,
Bare, like a carcafs pick'd by crows,
A lawyer, o'er his hands and face.
Stuck artfully a parchment cafe..
No new-flux'd rake fhew'd fairer skin;
Nor Phyllis after lying-in.
With snuff was fill'd his ebon box,
Of thin-bones rotten by the pox..
Nine fpirits of blafpheming fops,
With aconite anoint his chops:
And give him words of dreadful sounds,
G-d-n his blood, and bl- and w—ds.
THUS furnish'd out, he fent his train
To take a house in Warwick-lane:
The faculty,, his humble friends,.
A complimental meffage fends :
Their President in fcarlet gown,
Harangu'd, and welcom'd him to town.
The perriwigs with long tails now in fashion, are fo called.
BUT, Death had bus'nefs to dispatch:
His mind was running on his match.
And, hearing much of Daphne's fame,
His Majefty of terrors came,
Fine as a Col'nel of the guards,
To vifit where she fat at cards:
She, as he came into the room,
Thought him Adonis in his bloom.
And now her heart with pleasure jumps,
She scarce remembers what is trumps.
For fuch a shape of skin and bone
Was never feen, except her own:
Charm'd with his eyes, and chin, and fnout,
Her pocket-glafs drew flily out;
And grew enamour'd with her phiz,
As juft the counter-part of his.
She darted many a private glance,
And freely made the first advance:
Was of her beauty grown fo vain,
She doubted not to win the fwain.
Nothing the thought could fooner gain him,
'Than with her wit to entertain him.
She ask'd about her friends below;
This meagre fop, that batter'd beau:
Whether fome late departed toafts
Had got gallants among the ghafts ?
If Chloe were a fharper still,
As great as ever, at quadrille?
(The Ladies there muft needs be rooks For cards, we know, are Pluto's books ;) If Florimel had found her love
For whom the hang'd herself above?
How oft a-week was kept a ball,
By Proferpine, at Pluto's hall?
She fancy'd thofe Elyfian fhades
The sweetest place for masquerades :
How pleasant on the banks of Styx.
To troll it in a coach and fix!
WHAT pride a female heart enflames!
How endless are ambition's aims!
Cease haughty nymph; the fates decree
Death must not be a spouse for thee:
For, when by chance the meagre fhade
Upon thy hand his finger laid;
Thy hand as dry and cold as lead,
His matrimonial spirit fled;
He felt about his heart a damp;
That quite extinguish'd Cupid's lamp:
Away the frighted spectre fcuds,
And leaves my Lady in the fuds.
Written in the Year 1730.
UEEN of wit and beauty, Betty,
Never may the Muse forget ye:
How thy face charms ev'ry fhepherd,
Spotted over like a le'pard!
And thy freckled neck display'd
Envy Breeds in ev'ry maid.
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