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Full sixty years the World has been her Trade,
130 Her every turn with Violence pursued, Nor more a storm her Hate than Gratitude: To that each Passion turns, or soon or late; Love, if it makes her yield, must make her hate : Superiors ? death! and Equals ? what a curse! But an Inferior not dependant? worse. Offend her, and she knows not to forgive; Oblige her, and she 'll hate you while you live : But die, and the 'll adore you-Then the Buft And Temple rise-then fall again to dust.
140 Last night, her Lord was all that 's good and great ; A Knave this morning, and his Will a Cheat. Strange! by the Means defeated of the Ends, By Spirit robb’d of Power, by Warmth of Friends, By Wealth of Followers ! without one distress 145 Sick of herself, through very selfishness! . Atossa, curs’d with every granted prayer, Childless with all her Children, wants an Heir.
To VARIATION. After ver. 148. in the MS. This Death decides ; nor lets the blessing fall On any one she hates, but on them all.
To Heirs unknown descends th’unguarded store,
“ Yet Chloe sure was form’d without a spot."Nature in her then err'd not, but forgot. « With every pleasing, every prudent part, “ Say, what can Chloe want?”-She wants a Heart. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought; But never, never, reach'd one generous Thought. Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, Content to dwell in Decencies for ever. So very reasonable, so unmov’d,
165 As never yet to love, or to be lov’d. She, while her Lover pants upon her breast, Can mark the figures on an Indian chest; And when she sees her Friend in deep despair, Observes how much a Chintz exceeds Mohair.
17. Forbid it, Heaven, a Favour or a Debt She e'er should cancel but she may forget. Safe is your secret still in Chloe's ear; But none of Chloe's shall you ever hear.
Of VARIATION. Curs'd chance! this only could affiet her more, If any part should wander to the poor,
Of all her Dears she never slander'd one,
One certain Portrait may (I grant) be seen,
190 Th’exactest traits of Body or of Mind, We owe to models of an humble kind. If Queensberry to strip there's no compelling, 'Tis from a Handmaid we must take a Helen. From Peer or Bishop 'tis no easy thing
195 To draw the man who loves his God, or King : Alas ! I copy, (or my draught would fail) From honest Mah’met, or plain Parson Hale.
After ver. 198. in the MS.
Fain I'd in Fulvia spy the tender Wife;
prove it on her for my life : And, for a noble pride, I blush no less, Instead of Berenice to think on Bess.
But grant, in Public Men sometimes are shown, A woman's seen in Private life alone : Our bolder Talents in full light display'd; Your Virtues open fairest in the shade. Bred to disguise, in Public ’tis you hide ; There, none distinguish ’twixt your Shame or Pride, Weakness or Delicacy; all so nice,
205 That each may seem a Virtue, or a Vice.
In Men we various Ruling Passions find;
That, Nature gives; and where the lesson taught
Yet mark the fate of a whole Sex of Queens ! Power all their end, but Beauty all the means ;
Thus while immortal Cibber only sings (As Clarke and Hoadly preach) for queens and kings, The Nymph that ne'er read Milton's mighty line,
May, if she love, and merit verfe, have mine.
In several Men we several passions find;
In Youth they conquer with fo wild a rage,
Pleasures the sex, as children Birds, pursue,
grows their Age's prudence to pretend;
240 Still round and round the Ghosts of Beauty glide, And haunt the places where their honour dy'd.
See how the World its Veterans rewards ! A Youth of Frolicks, an old Age of Cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end,
245 Young without Lovers, old without a Friend ; A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot, Alive, ridiculous, and dead, forgot!
Ah! Friend! to dazzle let the Vain design; To raise the thought, and touch the Heart be thine ! 250