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E p I s T L E

To the same;

On her leaving the Town after the CORONATION *.

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A fome fond Virgin, whom her mother's care

Drags from the Town to wholesome Country air, Just when she learns to roll a melting eye, And hear a fpark, yet think no danger nigh ; From the dear man unwilling she must fever,

5 Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever : Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew, Saw others happy, and with fighs withdrew; Not that their pleasures caus'd her discontent, She sigh'd not that they stay'd, but that she went.

She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks, Old-fashion'd halls, dull Aunts, and croaking rooks : She went from Op'ra, Park, Assembly, Play, To morning-walks, and pray’rs three hours a day; To part her time 'twixt reading and Bohea,

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To muse, and spill her solitary tea,
Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the flow Clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pi&tures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell stories to the 'Squire;
Up to her godly garret after seven,
There ftarve and pray, for that's the way to heav'n.

Some 'Squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack;
Whose game is Whift, whose treat a toast in fack;
Who visits with a gun, presents you birds,
Then gives a smacking buss, and cries,-No words !
Or with his hound comes hallooing from the stable,
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table;

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* Of King George the First, 1715. VOL. III.

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Whose

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Whose laughs are hearty, tho'his jefts are coarse,
And loves you best of all things--but his horse.

In some fair evning, on your elbow laid,
You dream of Triumphs in the rural shade;
In pensive thought recall the fancy'd scene,
See Coronations rise on ev'ry green;
Before you pass th' imaginary fights

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Of Lords, and Earls, and Dukes, and garter'd Knights,
While the spread fan o'érshades your closing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls !!

1:40 So when your Slave, at fome dear idle time, (Not plagu'd with head-aches, or the want of rhyme); Stands in the streets, abftracted from the crew, And while he feems to study, thinks of you ; Just when his fancy points your sprightly eyes,... Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rife, Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite, Streets, Chairs, and Coxcombs rush upon my sight; Vex'd to be still in town, I knit my brow, Look four, and hum a Tune, as you may now."

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CAR DEL I A. I THE Baffet-Table spread, the Tallier come;

Why stays SMILINDA in the Dressing-Room? Rise, pensive Nymph, the Tallier waits for you :

SMILIND A...
Ah, Madam, fince my SHARPER is untrue,
I joyless make my once ador'd Alpeu.
I saw him ftand behind OMBRELIA's Chair,
And whisper with that soft, deluding air,
And those feign'd fighs which cheat the liftning Fair.

CAR DEL I A.
Is this the cause of your romantic strains ?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains.
As You by Love, so I by Fortune cross’d;
One, one bad Deal, Three Septlevas haye loft,

SMILIND A.
Is that the grief which you compare with mine?
With ease, the smiles of Fortune 1 resign:

Only this of all the town Eclogues was Mr. Pope's; and is here printed from a copy corrected by his own hand.--. The humour of ie lies in this, that the one is in love with the Game, and the other with the Sbarper. :)

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Would

Would all my gold in one bad Deal were gone ;
Were lovely SHARPER mine, and mine alone.

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CAR DEL I A. A Lover loft, is but a common care ; And prudent Nymphs against that change prepare : The KNAVE OF Clubs thrice loft : Oh! who could

guess This fatal stroke, this unforeseen Distress?

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$ MILIND A.
See Betty Lover! very à propos,
She all the cares of Love and Play does know:
Dear Betty shall th' important point decide ;
Betty, who oft the pain of each has try'd;
Impartial, she shall say who suffers moft,
By Cards, Ill-Usage, or by Lovers loft.

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LO V E T.
Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I ftay,
Tho'time is precious, and I want some Tea.

CAR DE LI A.

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Behold this Equipage, by Mathers wrought,
With Fifty Guineas (a great Pen'worth) bought.
See, on the Tooth-pick, Mars and Cupid strive ;
And both the struggling figures feem alive.
Upon the bottom shines the Queen's bright Face;
A Myrtle Foliage round the Thimble-Case ;
Jove, Jove himself does on the Scissors shine ;
The Metal, and the Workmanship, divine !

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S M I L I N D A. This Snuff-box,-once the pledge of SHARPER's love, When rival beauties for the Present ftrove; At Corticelli's he the Raffle won; Then first his Passion was in public shown:

50 HAZARDIA

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HAZARDIA blush'd, and turn d her head aside,
A Rival's envy (all in vain) to hide.
This Snuff-box; -on the Hinge see Brilliants shine :
This Snuff-box will I ftake; the Prize is mine,
CARDELI A.

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Alas! far leffer losses than I bear,
Have made a Soldier figh, a Lover swear.
And oh! what makes the disappointment hard,
'Twas my own Lord that drew the fatal Card.
In Complaisance, I took the Queen he gave;
Tho' my own secret wish was for the Knave.
The Knave won Sonica, which I had chose ;
And the next Pull, my Septleva I lose.

SMILIND A.
But ah! what aggravates the killing smart,
The cruel thought, that stabs me to the heart;
This curs'd OMBRELIA, this undoing Fair,
By whose vile arts this heavy grief I bear;
She, at whose name I shed these spiteful tears,
She owes to me the very charms she wears.
An aukward 'Thing, when first she came to Town;
Her shape unfashion'd, and her Face unknown :
She was my friend; I taught her first to spread
Upon her fallow cheeks enliv'ning red:
I introduc'd her to the Park and Plays;
And by my int’reft, Cozens made her Stays.
Ungrateful wretch, with mimic airs grown pert,
She dares to steal my Fav'rite Lover's heart.

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CA R D E L I A.
Wretch that I was, how often have I swore,
When WINNALL tally'd, I would punt no more?
I know the Bite, yet to my Ruin run;
And see the Folly, which I cannot shun.

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SMILINDA.

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