This Snuff-Box, -once the pledge of SHARPER'S love, When rival beauties for the Present strove; At Corticelli's he the Raffle won; Then first his Passion was in public shown: HAZARDIA blush'd, and turn'd her Head aside, 40 This Snuff-Box,- -on the Hinge see Brilliants shine: CARDELIA. Alas! far lesser losses than I bear, SMILINDA. 45 50 But ah! what aggravates the killing smart, 55 An awkward Thing, when first she came to Town; 60 How many Maids have SHARPER'S VOWS deceiv'd? CARDELIA. To gaze on Basset, and remain unwarm'd? But of what marble must that breast be form'd, 75 Expos'd in glorious heaps the tempting Bank, When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are set in decent rank; 80 The Winner's pleasure, and the Loser's pain: SMILINDA. What more than marble must that heart compose, Think of that moment, you who Prudence boast; CARDELIA. At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play, 1 [The Duke of Buckinghamshire (Sheffield) Cunningham's London. As to the Groom-Porwas in the habit of frequenting the bowling-alley ter's, cf. note to Dunciad, Bk. 1. v. 309.] behind the manor-house of Marylebone parish. But who the Bowl, or ratt'ling Dice compares SMILINDA. Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a Beau; LOVET. Cease your contention, which has been too long; TO LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. [Originally published in a Miscellany of the year 1720.] Lest flocks should be wise as their guide. The knowledge of right and of wrong. V. But if the first Eve Hard doom did receive, When only one apple had she, What a punishment new Shall be found out for you, Who tasting, have robb'd the whole tree? EXTEMPORANEOUS LINES, ON THE PICTURE OF LADY MARY W. MONTAGU, [Bowles, from Dallaway's Life of Lady M. W. M.] THE HE playful smiles around the dimpled mouth, So would I draw (but oh! 'tis vain to try, And the whole princess in my work should shine. IMITATION OF TIBULLUS. 5 ΤΟ POPE, in his letters to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu in the East, expresses a desire, real or fanciful, to meet her. 'But if my fate be such,' he says, 'that this body of mine (which is as ill matched to my mind as any wife to her husband) be left behind in the journey, let the epitaph of Tibullus be set over it.' Carruthers. [The letter is in Bowles, Vol. viii. The original is Tibull. Lib. I. Eleg. IV. 55-6.] H' ERE, stopt by hasty death, Alexis lies, Who crossed half Europe, led by Wortley's eyes. EPITAPHS ON JOHN HUGHES AND SARAH DREW. [POPE, in a letter to Lady M. W. Montagu, Sept. 1st, 1718, written from Stanton-Harcourt, Lord Harcourt's seat in Oxfordshire, relates the anecdote of the death of two lovers 'as constant as ever were found in romance,' by name John Hewet and Sarah Drew, who were simultaneously struck by lightning at a harvesthome; and sends her two epitaphs composed by him, of which the critics have chosen the godly one.' (See Lord Wharncliffe's Letters, &c. II. 100.) Lady Mary (Nov. 1st, ejusd. ann.) returned a decidedly cynical answer, with an epitaph of her own, commencing, 'Here lie John Hughes and Sarah Drew; Perhaps you'll say, What's that to you?' and concluding, after a doubt whether perchance ''twas not kindly done,' considering the chances of married life, 'Now they are happy in their doom, For Pope has wrote upon their tomb.' According to Gay's letter to Mr F— (Aug. 9th, 1718), Lord Harcourt, appre hensive that the country people would not understand even the godly epitaph, determined to substitute one with something of Scripture in it, and with as little of poetry as Hopkins and Sternhold.' This prose epitaph was also written by Pope.] HEN Eastern lovers feed the fun'ral fire, W1 On the same pile the faithful fair expire: I. THINK not, by rig'rous judgment seiz'd, Victims so pure Heav'n saw well pleas'd, II. LIVE well, and fear no sudden fate; Mercy alike to kill or save. Virtue unmov'd can hear the call, And face the flash that melts the ball. 5 ΙΟ 15 ON THE COUNTESS OF BURLINGTON CUTTING PAPER. [THE lady of Pope's friend, to whom Ep. IV. of the Moral Essays is addressed. Her maiden name was Lady Dorothy Saville.] PALLAS grew vapourish once, and odd, She would not do the least right thing, Either for goddess, or for god, Nor work, nor play, nor paint, nor sing. Jove frown'd, and, "Use," he cried, "those eyes Do something exquisite and wise—” 5 She bow'd, obey'd him,-and cut paper. This vexing him who gave her birth, Thought by all heaven a burning shame; But sure you'll find it hard to spoil Alas! one bad example shown; How quickly all the sex pursue! IC 15 20 |