SECLUDED from domeftic Atrife,
Jack Bookworm liv'd a college life
A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiesft man alive i
He drank his glass, and crack'd his joke,
And Freshmen wonder'd as he (poke.;
Without politenefs, aim'd at breeding,
And laugh'd at pedantry and reading.
Such pleasures, unallay'd with care,
Could any accident impair ?
Could Cupid's fhaft is length transfix,
Our fwain arrived at thirty-fix ?
had the archer ne'er come down,
To ravage in a country town!
Or Flavia been content to stop
At triumphs in a Fleet street shop
O had her eyes forgot to blaze!
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze
O! But let exclamation cease,
Her prefence banish'd all his peace.
Our alter'd parfon now began
To be a perfect ladies man;
Made fonnets, lifp'd his fermon o'er,
And told the tales he told before,
Of bailiffs pump'd, and proctors bit,
At college how he fhew'd his wite
And, as the fair one still approv'd,
He fell in love-or thought he lov'd ;
So with decorum all things carried;
Mifs frown'd, and blush'd, and then was-married.
Need we expofe to vulgar sight
The raptures of the bridal night?
Need we intrude on hallow'd ground,
Or draw the curtains clofe around?
Let it fuffice, that each had charms;
He clafp'd a goddess in his arms;
And, though the felt his visage rough,
Yet in a man 'twas well enough.
The honey moon like lightning flew,
The second brought its transports too,
A third, a fourth was not amifs;
The fifth was friendship mix'd with blifs
But when a twelvemonth pafs'd away,'
Jack found his goddet's made of clay;
Found half the charms that deck'd her face,
Arofe from powder, fhreds, or lace;
But ftill the worst remain'd behind,
That very face had robb'd her mind.
Skill'd in no other art was fhe,
But dreffing, patching, repartee;
And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a flattern, or a belle :
'Tis true The dress'd with modern grace,
Half naked at a ball or race;
But when at home, at board or bed,
Five greafy night caps wrapt her head.) shal
Could fo much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend ?`
Could any curtain lectures bring
To decency fo fine a thing?
In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting;
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting.
Now tawdry madam kept a bevy,
Of powder'd coxcombs at her levee ;
The 'fquire and captain took their stations,
And twenty other near relations ;
Jack fuck'd his pipe and often broke
A figh in fuffocating smoke ;
She, in her turn, become perplexing,
And found fubstantial bliss in vexing.
Thus every hour was pafs'd between
Infulting repartee or spleen.
Each day, the more her faults were known,
He thinks her features coarfer grown ;
He fancies every vice the shows,
Or thins her lips, or points her nofe ;
Whenever rage or envy rife,
How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes !
He knows not how, but do it is,
Her face is grown a knowing phiz ;
And, though her fops are wondrous civil,
He thinks her ugly as the devil.
Thus, to perplex the ravell'd noofe
While each a different way pursues,
While fullen or loquacious frife
Promis'd to hold on during life,
That dire difeafe, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's tranfient flower-
Lo! the fmall pox, whofe horrid glare,
Levell'd its terrors at the fair,
And, rifling every youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.
The glafs, grown hateful to her fight,
Reflected now a perfect fright;
Each former art fhe vainly tries
To bring back luftre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her pastes and creams,
To fmoorh her fkin, or hide its feams;
Her country beaux and city coufins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens :
The 'fquire himself was seen to yield,
And even the captain quit the field.
Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack foon was dazzled to behold
Her prefent face furpass the old ;
With modefty her cheeks were dy'd,
Humility difplaces pride;
For tawdry finery is feen
A perfon ever neatly clean:
No more prefering on her sway
She learns good nature every day
Serenely gay, and ftri&t in duty,
Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.
I LONG had rack'd my brains to find
A likeness for the scribbling kind,
The modern fcribbling kind, who write
In wit, and fenfe, in nature's spite :
'Till reading, I forget what day on,
A chapter out of Took's Pantheon,
I think I met with something there,
To fuit my purpose to a hair.
But let us not proceed too furious,
First please to turn to ged Mercurius';
You'll find him pictur'd at full length
In book the second, page the tenth :
The stress of all my proofs on him I lay,
And now proceed we to our fimile.
IMPRIMIS, pray obferve his hat;
Wings upon either side-mark that.
Well! what is it from thence we gather
Why, thefe denote a brain of feather.
Abrain of feather—very right;
With wit that's flighty, learning light;
Such as to modern bards decreed,
A juft comparifon-Proceed.
In the NEXT place, his feet perufe,
Wings grow again from both his shoes;
Defign'd, no doubt, their part to bear,
And waft his godship through the air :
And here my fimile unites;
For, in a modern poet's flights,
I'm fure it may be justly said,
His feet are ufeful as his head.
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