While all their fpirits are on wing,
And woods, and hills, and vallies ring.
To cure the mind's wrong biafs, Spleen;
Some recommend the bowling-green;
Some, hilly walks; all, exercise ;
Fling but a stone, the giant dies;
Laugh and be well. Monkeys have been
Extreme good doctors for the Spleen;
And kitten, if the humour hit,
Has harlequin'd away the fit.
Since mirth is good in this behalf,
At some partic❜lars let us laugh.
Witlings, brisk fools, curs'd with half sense,
That stimulates their impotence;
Who buz in rhyme, and, like blind flies,
Err with their wings for want of eyes.
Poor authors worshipping a calf,
Deep tragedies that make us laugh,
A ftrict diffenter saying grace,
A lect'rer preaching for a place,
Folks, things prophetic to dispense,
Making the past the future tense,
The popish dubbing of a priest,
Fine epitaphs on knaves deceas'd,
Green-apron'd Pythoniffa's rage, / Great Æfculapius on his stage, A miser starving to be rich,
The prior of Newgate's dying fpeech,
A jointur'd widow's ritual ftate,
Two Jews difputing tête à tête,
New almanacs compos'd by feers,
Experiments on felons ears,
Difdainful prudes, who ceaseless ply
The superb muscle of the eye,
A coquet's April-weather face,
A Queenb'rough mayor behind his mace,
And fops in military show,
Are fov'reign for the cafe in view.
If Spleen-fogs rife at close of day,
I clear my ev'ning with a play,
Or to fome concert take my way.
The company, the shine of lights,
The scenes of humour, mufic's flights,
Adjust and set the foul to rights.
Life's moving pictures, well-wrought plays,
To others' griefs attention raise :
Here, while the tragic fictions glow,
We borrow joy by pitying woe;
There gaily comic scenes delight,
And hold true mirrors to our fight.
Virtue, in charming dress array'd,
Calling the paffions to her aid,
When moral scenes just actions join,
Takes fhape, and fhews her face divine.
Mufic has charms, we all may find,
Ingratiate deeply with the mind.
When art does found's high pow'r advance,
To mufic's pipe the paffions dance;
Motions unwill'd its pow'rs have shewn,]
Tarantulated by a tune.
Many have held the foul to be
Nearly ally'd to harmony.
Her have I known indulging grief,
And fhunning company's relief,
Unveil her face, and looking round,
Own, by neglecting forrow's wound,
The confanguinity of found.
In rainy days keep double guard,
Or Spleen will furely be too hard;
Which, like thofe fifh by failors met,
Fly higheft, while their wings are wet.
In fuch dull weather, fo unfit
To enterprize a work of wit,
When clouds one yard of azure sky,
That's fit for fimile, deny,
I drefs my face with ftudious looks,
And fhorten tedious hours with books.
But if dull fogs invade the head,
That mem'ry minds not what is read,
I fit in window dry as ark,
And on the drowning world remark:
Or to fome coffee-house I stray
For news, the manna of a day,
And from the hipp'd discourses gather,
That politics go by the weather:
Then feek good-humour'd tavern chums,
And play at cards, but for small sums;
Or with the merry fellows quaff,
And laugh aloud with them that laugh;
Or drink a joco-ferious cup
With fouls who've took their freedom up,
And let my mind, beguil'd by talk,
In Epicurus' garden walk,
Who thought it heav'n to be ferene;
Pain, hell; and purgatory, Spleen.
Sometimes I drefs, with women fit, And chat away the gloomy fit;
Quit the stiff garb of serious sense,
And wear a gay impertinence,
Nor think, nor fpeak with any pains,
But lay on fancy's neck the reins;
Talk of unufual fwell of waist
In maid of honour loosely lac'd,
And beauty borr'wing Spanish red,
And loving pair with fep'rate bed,
And jewels pawn'd for lofs of game,
And then redeem'd by lofs of fame;
Of Kitty (aunt left in the lurch
By grave pretence to go to church)
Perceiv'd in hack with lover fine,
Like Will and Mary on the coin:
And thus in modifh manner we,
In aid of fugar, fweeten tea.
Permit, ye fair, your idol form Which e'en the coldeft heart can warm, May with its beauties grace my line, While I bow down before its fhrine, And your throng'd altars with my lays Perfume, and get by giving praise.
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