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Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford, Why Angels call’d, and Angel-like ador’d? Why round our coaches croud the white-glov'd

Beaux, Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows? How vain are all these glories, all our pains, 15 Unless good sense preserve. what beauty gains: That men may say, when we the front box grace, Behold the first in virtue as in face!

ITATIONS

Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd,
Our feasts enhanc'd with music's sprightly found ,
Why on those shores are we with joy survey'd,
Admir'd as heroes, and as Gods obey'd;
Unless great acts superior merit prove,
And vindicate the bounteous pow'rs above?
'Tis ours, the dignity they give, to grace;
The first in valour, as the first in place :
That when with wond'ring eyes our martial bands
Behold our deeds transcending our commands,
Such, they may cry, deserve the fov’reign state,
Whom those that envy, dare not imitate.
Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
Which claims no less the fearful than the brave,
For luft of fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war.
But since, alass! ignoble age must come,
Disease, and death's inexorable doom;
The life which others pay, let us bestow,
And give to fame what we to nature owe;
Brave tho' we fall, and honour'd if we live,
Or let us glory gain, or glory give.

Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old-age away; Who would not scorn what housewife's cares pro

duce, Or who would learn one earthly thing of use ? To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. But since, alafs ; frail beauty must decay, 25. Curld or uncurld, fince Locks will turn to grey; Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, And she who scorns a man, must die à maid; What then remains but well our pow'r to use, And keep good-humour still whate'er we lose? 30 And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail, When airs, and fights, and screams, and scolding

fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll ; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. : So spoke the Dame, but no applause ensu’d; 35 Belinda frown'd, Thalestris call'd her Prude.

IMITATION S. · Ver. 35. So spoke the Dame,] It is a verse frequently repeated in Homer after any speech, So spoke--and all the Heroes applauded. P.

To arms, to arms! the fierce Virago cries,
And swift as lightning to the combat flies.
All fide in parties, and begin th' attack;
Fans clap, silks russle, and tough whalebones crack;
Heroes' and Heroines’ shouts confus’dly rise, 41
And base and treble voices strike the skies.
No common weapons in their hands are found,
Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound.

So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage,
And heav'nly breasts with human passions rage:
Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes arms ; 47
And all Olympus rings with loud alarms:
Jove's thunder roars, heav'n trembles all around,
Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound:
Earth makes her noddirig tow'rs, the ground gives
way,

51 And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day!

Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height Clap'd his glad wings, and fate to view the fight:

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VARIATIONS. . VER. 37. To arms, to arms ! ] From hence the first Edition goes on to the Conclusion, except a very few short insertions added, to keep the Machinery in view to the end of the poem. P.

Ver. 45. Triumphant Umbriel] These four lines added, for the reason before inentioned. P.

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Prop'd on their bodkin spears, the Sprites survey The growing combat, or assist the fray.. 56

While thro’ the press enrag'd Thalestris flies, And scatters death around from both her eyes, A Beau and Witling perish'd in the throng, One dy'd in metaphor, and one in song.. 60 “O cruel nymph! a living death I bear, Cry'd Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair." A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, “ Those eyes are made so killing---was his last. Thus on Mæander's flow'ry margin lies 65 Th’expiring Swan, and as he sings he dies.

When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, Chloe stepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown; She smil'd to see the doughty hero flain, But, at her smile, the Beau reviv'd again. 70

TES.

NOTES.
Ver. 45. So when bolal Homer] Homer, Il. xx. P...

IMITATIONS. . . . . VER. 53. Triumphant Umbriel) Minerva in like manner, during the battle of Ulysses with the Suitors in Odyfl. perches on a beam of the roof to behold it. P.

VER. 64. Those eyes are made so killing] The words of a Song in the Opera of Camilla. P. Ver. 65. Thus on Meander's frow'ry margin lies] · Siç ubi fata vocant, udis abjectus in herbis,

Ad vada Mxandri concinit albus olor. Ov. Ep. P.

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