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Joy lives not here, to happier seats it flies,
What are the gay parterre, the chequer'd shade,
TO LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU.
In beauty, or wit,
No mortal as yet
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning, To yield to a lady was hard.
With musty dull rules, Have reading to females denied :
So papists refuse
The Bible to use,
'Twas a woman at first,
(Indeed she was curst) In knowledge that tasted delight,
And sages agree
The laws should decree To the first possessor 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?
ON A PORTRAIT OF LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU,
PAINTED BY KNELLER.
The playful smiles around the dimpled mouth,
The equal lustre of the heavenly mind,
LINES SUNG BY DURASTANTI, WHEN SHE
TOOK LEAVE OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.
GENEROUS, gay, and gallant nation,
Bold in arms, and bright in arts; Land secure from all invasion,
All but Cupid's gentle darts ! From
your charms, O who would run ? Who would leave you for the sun ?
Happy soil, adieu! adieu ! Let old charmers yield to new.
In arms, in arts, be still more shining; All your joys be still increasing ;
All your tastes be still refining;
But let old charmers yield to new :
UPON THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH'S
HOUSE AT WOODSTOCK. SEE, sir, here's the grand approach, This
way is for his Grace's coach ;
Thanks, sir, cried I, 'tis very fine,
VERSES LEFT BY MR. POPE, ON HIS LYING IN THE SAME BED WHICH WILMOT, THE
CELEBRATED EARL OF ROCHESTER, SLEPT IN AT ADDERBURY, THEN BELONGING TO THE DUKE OF
ARGYLE, JULY 9TH, 1739.
With no poetic ardour fir'd
the bed where Wilmot lay; That here he lov'd, or here expir’d,
Begets no numbers grave or gay.
Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bred
Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Beneath a nobler roof—the sky.
Such flames as high in patriots burn,
Yet stoop to bless a child or wife;
When freedom is more dear than life.
TO) THE TONE OF TO ALL YOU LADIES NOW AT LAND,' ETC.
To one fair lady out of court,
And two fair ladies in,
And wit and love no sin;
With a fa, la, la.
What passes in the dark third row,
And what behind the scene,
And garrets hung with green ;
1 Ulrick, the little. Turk.
2 The Author. 3 Ladies of the Court of the Princess Caroline. VOL. II.