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To Heirs unknown defcends th' unguarded store,
Or wanders, Heaven-directed, to the Poor.
Pictures like these, dear Madam, to design,
Ask no firm hand, and no unerring line;
Some wandering touches, fome reflected light,
Some flying stroke alone can hit them right:
For how should equal Colours do the knack?
Chameleons who can paint in white and black?
"Yet Chloe fure was form'd without a spot."-
Nature in her then err'd not, but forgot.
"With every pleafing, every prudent part,



"Say, what can Chloe want?"-She wants a Heart.
She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought;
But never, never, reach'd one generous Thought.
Virtue fhe finds too painful an endeavour,

Content to dwell in Decencies for ever.
So very reasonable, so unmov'd,


As never yet to love, or to be lov'd.

She, while her Lover pants upon her breast,
Can mark the figures on an Indian cheft;
And when the fees her Friend in deep despair,
Obferves how much a Chintz exceeds Mohair.
Forbid it, Heaven, a Favour or a Debt
She e'er fhould cancel-but she may forget.
Safe is your fecret ftill in Chloe's ear;
But none of Chloe's fhall you ever hear.



Curs'd chance! this only could afflict her more,
If any part should wander to the poor,



Of all her Dears fhe never flander'd one,
But cares not if a thoufand 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 defcrib'd by all



With Truth and Goodness, as with Crown and Ball.
Poets heap Virtues, Painters Gems at will,
And fhew their zeal, and hide their want of skill.
'Tis well—but, Artists! who can paint or write,
To draw the naked is your true delight.

That Robe of Quality so struts and swells,
None fee what Parts of Nature it conceals:
Th' exactest traits of Body or of Mind,
We owe to models of an humble kind.

If Queensberry to ftrip 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 honeft Mah'met, or plain Parfon Hale.

After ver. 198. in the MS.


Fain I'd in Falvia fpy the tender Wife;

I cannot prove it on her for my life:

And, for a noble pride, I blufh no lefs,
Instead of Berenice to think on Befs.


Thu s

But grant, 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 faireft in the fhade.
Bred to difguife, in Public 'tis you hide;

There, none diftinguifh '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 almoft divide the kind;
Thofe, only fix'd, they firft or laft obey,
The Love of Pleafure, and the Love of Sway.
That, Nature gives; and where the leffon taught
Is but to pleafe, can Pleasure feem a fault?
Experience, this; by Man's oppreffion curft,
They feek the fecond not to lofe the firft.

Men, fome to Bufinefs, fome to Pleasure take;
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:








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 the 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,

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In Youth they conquer with fo wild a rage,
As leaves them fcarce a fubject 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 repofe, and dread to be alone,
Worn-out in public, weary every eye,

Nor leave one figh behind them when they die.
Pleafures the fex, as children Birds, purfue,
Still out of reach, yet never out of view;
Sure, if they catch, to spoil the Toy at most,
To covet flying, and regret when loft:
At laft, 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 Ghosts 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 design;






To raife 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 Modefty fhe fhines,

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 the rules;
Charms by accepting, by fubmitting fways,
Yet has her humour moft, when she obeys;
Let Fops or Fortune fly which way they wll;
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 still.
Heaven when it ftrives to polish all it can
Its last best work, but forms a fofter Man;
Picks from each fex, to make the Favourite bleft,
Your love of Pleafure, 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.







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