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TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.
SENT ON HER BIRTHDAY, JUNE 15.
O, be thou blest with all that Heaven can send,
Let joy or ease, let amuence or content,
SONG, SON G.
BY A PERSON OF QUALITY *. I SAID to my heart, between sleeping and waking, Thou wild thing, that always art leaping or aching, What black, brown, or fair, in what clime, in what
nation, By turns has not taught thee a pit-a-pat-ation ? Thus accus’d, the wild thing gave this sober reply: See the heart without motion, tho' Celia pass by! Not the beauty she has, or the wit that she borrows, Gives the eye any joys, or the heart any sorrows. When our Sappho appears, she whose wit's so refin’d, I am forc'd to applaud with the rest of mankind; Whatever she says, is with spirit and fire ; Ev'ry word I attend; but I only admire. Prudentia as vainly would put in her claim, Ever gazing on Heaven, tho' man is her aim: 'Tis love, not devotion, that turns up her eyes : Those stars of this world are too good for the skies. But Cloe so lively, so easy, so fair, Her wit so genteel, without art, without care ; When she comes in my way, the motion, the pain, The leapings, the achings, return all again. O wonderful creature ! a woman of reason ! Never grave out of pride, never gay out of season ! When so easy to guess who this angel should be, Would one think Mrs. Howard ne'er dreamt it was she?
• The earl of Peterborough.
OF all the girls that e'er were seen,
There's none so fine as Nelly,
And what's not fit to tell ye:
Of lovely dearest Nelly !
Had she ne'er pass’d by Calai-.
For when, as Nelly came to France
(Invited by her cousins) Across the Tuilleries each glance
Kill'd Frenchmen by whole dozens ;
Did beckon to his hussar,
For charming Nell to buss her.
To see her so respected :
And puss her tail erected.
Except on pretty Nelly:
Ab! qu'elle est bien jolie !
That carefully looks a’ter ?
The fair one is his daughter.
Ma foy! (quoth then a courtier sly)
He on his child does leer too ; I wish he has no mind to try What some papas will here do.
The courtiers all with one accord
Broke out in Nelly's praises, Admir'd her rose, and lys sans farde
(Which are your termes françoises.) Then might you see a painted ring
Of dames that stood by Nelly : She, like the pride of all the spring,
And they like fleurs de palais.
In Marli's gardens, and St. Clou,
I saw this charming Nelly,
Stand naked in each alley :
Both at Versailles and Meudon, Or else she had resign’d her place,
And left the stone she stood on.
Were Nelly's figure mounted there, 'Twould
down all th' Italian :
But I should turn Pygmalion :
Me nothing can delight so,
Her left toe and her right toe.
ODE ODE FOR MUSICK.
ON THE LONGITUDE.
So Ditton and Whiston
Sing Ditton and Whiston,
And Whiston and Ditton, Besh-t and bep-st on,
Bep-st and besh-t on.