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To question your empire has dared;
But men of discerning

Have thought that in learning,
To yield to a lady was hard.

Impertinent schools,

With musty dull rules, Have reading to females denied: So papists refuse

The Bible to use,

Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.

"Twas a woman at first

(Indeed she was cursed)

In knowledge that tasted delight,
And sages agree

The laws should decree

To the first of possessors the right.

Then bravely, fair dame,

Resume the old claim,

Which to your whole sex does belong;
And let men receive,

From a second bright Eve,

The knowledge of right and of wrong.

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!


A modern Imitation.

SAY, St. John who alone peruse
With candid eye, the mimic muse,
What schemes of politics, or laws,
In Gallic lands the patriot draws!
Is then a greater work in hand,
Than all the tomes of Haines' band?
'Or shoots he folly as it flies?
Or catches manners as they rise?'
Or, urged by unquench'd native heat,
Does St. John Greenwich sports repeat?
Where (emulous of Chartres fame)
E'en Chartres' self is scarce a name.
To you (the all-envied gift of heaven)
The indulgent gods, unask'd, has given
A form complete in every part,
And, to enjoy that gift, the art.
What could a tender mother's care
Wish better to her favourite heir,
Than wit, and fame, and lucky hours,
A stock of health, and golden showers,
And graceful fluency of speech.
Precepts before unknown to teach?
** Amidst thy various ebbs of fear,
And gleaming hope, and black despair;
Yet let thy friend this truth impart;
A truth I tell with bleeding heart
(In justice for your labours past),!
That every day shall be your last;
That every hour your life renew

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Is to your injured country due.
In spite of tears, of mercy spite,
My genius still must rail and write.
Haste to thy Twickenham's safe retreat,
And mingle with the grumbling great:
There, half devour'd by spleen, you'll find
The rhyming bubbler of mankind!
There (objects of our mutual hate)
We'll ridicule both church and state.


A handsome Woman with a fine Voice, but very covetous and proud.

So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song,
As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along;
But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride,
That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have


On one who made long Epitaphs.

FRIEND, for your epitaphs I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be believed,
The other never read.


On his painting for me the Statues of Apollo, Venus, and Hercules.

WHAT god, what genius, did the pencil move

When Kneller painted these?

Twas friendship-warm as Phoebus, kind as Love And strong as Hercules.


In the Year 1715.

DEAR, damn'd distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I'll tease:
This year in peace, ye critics dwell,

Ye harlots, sleep at ease.

Soft B*** and rough C***** adieu !
Earl Warwick make your moan,

The lively H*****k and you

May knock up whores alone.

To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd
Till the third watchman toll;
Let Jervis gratis paint, and Frowde
Save three-pence and his soul.

Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery
On every learned sot,

And Garth, the best good christian he
Although he knows it not.

Linton, farewell; thy bar must go!

Farewell, unhappy Tonson!
Heaven gives thee, for thy loss of Rowe,
Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.

Why should I stay? Both parties rage;
My vixen mistress squalls;

The wits in envious feuds engage;

And Homer (dama him!) calls.

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The love of arts lies cold and dead

In Halifax's urn;

And not one Muse of all he fed,
Has yet the grace to mourn.

My friends, by turns, my friends confound,
Betray, and are betray'd:
Poor Y***r's sold for fifty pound,
And B******Il is a jade.

Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour seek?

Or follow girls seven hours in eight ?—
I need but once a week.

Still idle with a busy air,
Deep whimsies to contrive;

The gayest valetudinaire,
Most thinking rake alive.

Solicitous for other's ends

Though fond of dear 'repose;
Careless or drowsy with my friends,
And frolic with my foes.

Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,
For sober, studious days!

And Burlington's delicious meal,

For salads, tarts, and pease!

Adieu to all but Gay alone,

Whose soul sincere and free,

Loves all mankind, but flatters none,

And so may starve with me.

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