Of all her Dears fhe never flander'd one,
But cares not if a thousand are undone.
Would Chloe know if you 're alive or dead?
She bids her Footman put it in her head.
Chloe is prudent-Would you too be wife?
Then never break your heart when Chloe dies.
One certain Portrait may (I grant) be seen,
Which Heaven has varnish'd out, and made a Queen:
The fame for ever! and describ'd by all
With Truth and Goodnefs, as with Crown and Ball. Poets heap Virtues, Painters Gems at will,
And fhew their zeal, and hide their want of kill. 'Tis well-but, Artists! who can paint or write, To draw the naked is your true delight.
That Robe of Quality so struts and fwells,
None fee what Parts of Nature it conceals:
Th' exacteft 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
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 fpy the tender Wife;
I cannot prove it on her for my life:
And, for a noble pride, I blush no lefs,
Instead of Berenice to think on Befs.
in Public Men fometimes are shown,
A Woman's feen in Private life alone:
Our bolder Talents in full light difplay'd;
Your Virtues open fairest in the shade.
Bred to difguife, in Public 'tis you hide;
There, none diftinguish 'twixt your Shame or Pride, Weakness or Delicacy; all fo nice,
That each may feem a Virtue, or a Vice.
In Men we various Ruling Paffions find;
In Women, two almost divide the kind;
Thofe, only fix'd, they firft or laft obey,
The Love of Pleasure, and the Love of Sway.
That, Nature gives; and where the lesson taught
Is but to please, can Pleasure seem a fault?
Experience, this; by Man's oppreffion curft,
They seek the fecond not to lose the first.
Men, fome to Bufinefs, fome to Pleasure take; 215 But every Woman is at heart a Rake:
Men, fome to Quiet, fome to public Strife;
But every Lady would be Queen for Life.
Yet mark the fate of a whole Sex of Queens!
Power all their end, but Beauty all the means:
VARIATION S.
Thus while immortal Cibber only fings
(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.
Ver. 207, in the first Edition:
In feveral Men we feveral paffions find; In Women, two almoft divide the kind. VOL. XLVI.
In Youth they conquer with so wild a rage,
As leaves them scarce a subject in their Age:
For foreign glory, foreign joy, they roam;
No thought of peace or happiness at home.
But Wisdom's triumph is well-tim'd Retreat,
As hard a fcience to the Fair as Great!
Beauties, like Tyrants, old and friendless grown,
Yet hate repose, and dread to be alone,
Worn-out in public, weary every eye,
Nor leave one figh behind them when they die.
Pleasures the sex, as children Birds, pursue,
Still out of reach, yet never out of view;
Sure, if they catch, to fpoil the Toy at most,
To covet flying, and regret when loft:
At last, to follies Youth could fcarce defend,
It grows their Age's prudence to pretend;
Afham'd to own they gave delight before,
Reduc'd to feign it, when they give no more:
As Hags hold Sabbaths, lefs for joy than spight,
So these their merry, miferable Night;
Still round and round the Ghofts 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;
Young without Lovers, old without a Friend;
A Fop their Paffion, but their Prize a Sot;
Alive, ridiculous; and dead, forgot!
Ah! Friend! to dazzle let the Vain defign;
To raise the thought, and touch the Heart, be thine! 250
That Charm fhall grow, while what fatigues the Ring,
Flaunts and goes down, an unregarded thing:
So when the Sun's broad beam has tir'd the fight,
All mild afcends the Moon's more fober light,
Serene in Virgin Modesty she shines,
And unobferv'd the glaring orb declines.
Oh! bleft with Temper, whofe unclouded ray
Can make to-morrow chearful as to-day:
She, who can love a Sifter's charms, or hear
Sighs for a Daughter with unwounded ear;
She who ne'er anfwers till a Hufband cools,
Or, if the rules him, never fhews fhe rules;
Charms by accepting, by fubmitting fways,
Yet has her humour moft, when he obeys;
Let Fops or Fortune fly which way they will,
Difdains all lofs of Tickets, or Codille;
Spleen, Vapours, or Small-pox, above them all,
And Mistress of herfelf, though China fall.
And yet, believe me, good as well as ill,
Woman 's at beft a contradiction ftill.
Heaven when it ftrives to polish all it can
Its laft beft work, but forms a fofter Man;
Picks from each fex, to make the Favourite bleft,
Your love of Pleasure, our defire of Reft:
Blends, in exception to all general rules,
Your taste of Follies, with our fcorn of Fools:
Referve with Franknefs, Art with Truth ally'd,
Courage with Softnefs, Modefty with Pride;
Fix'd Principles, with Fancy ever new;
Shakes all together, and produces-You.
1 2
Be this a Woman's Fame! with this unbleft,
Toasts live a scorn, and Queens may die a jeft.
This Phoebus promis'd (I forget the year),
When those blue eyes firft open'd on the fphere;
Afcendant Phœbus watch'd that hour with care, 285
Averted half your Parents' fimple Prayer;
And gave you Beauty, but deny'd the Pelf
That buys your fex a Tyrant o'er itself.
The generous God, who Wit and Gold refines,
And ripens Spirits as he ripens Mines,
Kept Drofs for Ducheffes, the world fhall know it,
To you gave Senfe, Good-humour, and a Poet,
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