Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

And with exact poetick justice;
For John is landlord, Phillis hostess :
They keep at Staines the Old Blue Boar,
Are cat and dog, and rogue and whore.

THE

PROGRESS OF POETRY.

THE farmer's goofe, who in the

ftubble

Has fed without restraint or trouble,
Grown fat with corn, and fitting ftill,
Can scarce get o'er the barn-door fill;
And hardly waddles forth to cool
Her belly in the neighb'ring pool;
Nor loudly cackles at the door;
For cackling fhews the goofe is poor.
But, when fhe must be turn'd to graze,
And round the barren common ftrays,
Hard exercife and harder fare

Soon make my dame grow lank and fpare:
Her body light, fhe tries her wings,
And fcorns the ground, and upward fprings;
While all the parish, as the flies,

Hear founds harmonious from the skies.
Such is the poet fresh in pay,

(The third night's profits of his play;) O 2

His

His morning-draughts 'till noon can fwill
Among his brethren of the quill:
With good roast beef his belly full,
Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull,
Deep funk in plenty and delight,
What poet e'er could take his flight?
Or, stuff'd with phlegm up to the throat,
What poet e'er could fing a note ?
Nor Pegafus could bear the load
Along the high celestial road;

The steed, opprefs'd would break his girth
To raise the lumber from the earth.
But view him in another scene,
When all his drink is Hippocrene,
His money spent, his patrons fail,
His credit out for cheese and ale;
His two-years coat so smooth and bare,
Through ev'ry thread it lets in air;
With hungry meals his body pin'd,
His guts and belly full of wind;
And, like a jockey for a race,
His flesh brought down to flying cafe:
Now his exalted spirit loaths
Incumbrances of food and cloaths;
And up he rises, like a vapour,
Supported high on wings of paper;
He finging flies, and flying fings,
While from below all Grubstreet rings.

THE

PROGRESS OF BEAUTY.

WF

HEN firft Diana leaves her bed, Vapours and fteams her look difgrace,

A frowzy dirty-colour'd red

Sits on her cloudy wrinkled face :

But by degrees, when mounted high
Her artificial face appears
Down from her window in the sky,

Her spots are gone, her visage clears.

'Twixt earthly females and the moon
All parallels exactly run:
If Celia fhould appear too foon,

Alas, the nymph would be undone !

To fee her from her pillow rife,
All reeking in a cloudy fteam,
Crack'd lips, foul teeth, and gummy eyes,
Poor Strephon, how wou'd he blafpheme!

Three colours, black, and red, and white,
So graceful in their proper place,
Remove them to a diff'rent fcite,
They form a frightful hideous face:

[blocks in formation]

For instance, when the lily skips
Into the precincts of the rofe,
And takes poffeffion of the lips,
Leaving the purple to the nose.

So Celia went entire to bed,

All her complexion fafe and found; But, when the rofe, white, black, and red, Though still in fight, had chang'd their ground.

The black, which would not be confin'd,
A more inferior ftation feeks,
Leaving the fiery red behind,

And mingles in her muddy cheeks.

But Celia can with ease reduce,

By help of pencil, paint, and brush, Each colour to its place and ufe,

And teach her cheeks again to blush,

She knows her early felf no more;
But fill'd with admiration ftands,
As other painters oft adore

The workmanship of their own hands, «

Thus, after four important hours,
Celia's the wonder of her fex:
Say, which among the heav'nly pow'rs
Could caufe fuch marvellous effects?

Venus, indulgent to her kind,

Gave women all their hearts could wifh,

When first she taught them where to find
White lead and * Lufitanian dish.

Love with white lead cements his wings :
White lead was fent us to repair
Two brightest, brittleft, earthly things,
A lady's face, and China ware.

She ventures now to lift the fafh;
The window is her proper sphere:
Ah lovely nymph! be not too rash,
Nor let the beaux approach too near:

Take pattern by your fifter star;

Delude at once, and blefs our fight; When you are feen, be feen from far, And chiefly chufe to shine by night.

But art no longer can prevail,

When the materials all are gone; The best mechanic hand muft fail, Where nothing's left to work upon.

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »