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É'en crowded routs where dullness ever dwcl.s,
Can yield delight to fashionable belles.

Old maids and prudes each night, to feed their spleen,
There, feeking whom they may devour, are feen,
And, ftill repining that they must be chaste,
Would mar thofe pleasures they're forbid to taste;
With envious eye the brilliant nymph they view,
Whilft eager crowds where'er the moves pursue.
If to the play-houfe fhe by chance repair,
(Not oft frequented by the well bred fair)
When through the house a folemn filence reigns,
Each bofom feeling what the actor feigns,
E'en in the midft of fome affecting part,
That wakes each foft emotion of the heart,
The doors fly open whilft the pit beneath
Their difcontent in fullen murmurs breathe:
Forward fhe fteps with graceful air, and spreads
A blaze of beauty o'er their wond'ring heads:
Pit, boxes, gall'ries, all at once concur,
Forget the play, and fix their eyes on her.
Scarce to the ftage fhe turns her high-plum'd head,
Or feems to mark one fyllable that's faid;
But carelefs fits, and on her arm reclin'd
Hears civil speeches from the beaux behind;
Or gently liftens while fome well-drefs'd youth
In whifper'd accents vows eternal truth.
Obedient fill to pleasure's fprightly call
She quits the play, and feeks the livelier ball:
Each white glov d beau with hafte his fuit prefers,
Prefents his hand, and humbly begs for hers.
Well pleas'd fhe hears the fuppliant crowds intreat,
And feels the triumph of her charms complete.
Should fome bleft youth be to the reft prefer'd,
Whofe vows in private are with favour heard,
As through the dance with graceful eafe the moves,
Their meeting hands exprefs their confcious loves,
Malicious eyes the lover's looks restrain,

And cold difcretion feals his lips in vain ;
U

The faithful hand can unobferv'd impart
The fecret feelings of a tender heart:

And oh what blifs, when each alike is pleas'd!
The hand that fqueezes, and the hand that's fqueez'd,
But whither, whither does my fancy roam;

Ah! let me call the idle wand'rer home.
Already Phebus, with unwelcome ray,
Has chas'd, alas! the winter's fogs away;
Through the fad town, at each deferted door,
Lefs frequent now the footman's thunders roar,
And waggon's loading in the dusty street,
Forbode the horrors of a long retreat.
Ye fifter fuff'rers, who muft foon or lase
All share my forrows, and partake my fate,
Who, when condemn'd thefe bleft abodes to quit,
Like me may weep, but must like me fubmit,
When overcome by man's fuperior force,
Revenge is fill the injured fair's refource:
Revenge at leaft may make our fuff'rings lefs,
A hufband's anguish fooths a wife's distress,
When far from town, in fome fequefier'd fpot,
You mourn the hardship of our fex's lut,
Ill humour, vapours, fullenness and spleen,
May add fresh horrors to the gloomy fcene,
And make the tyrants who contrive your fate
Partake the mifery themselves create.

If, prefs'd by cares, they need a friend's relief,
Be all your study to augment their grief;
If pleas'd or gay, your utmost arts employ
To fink their fpirits and difpel their joy;
Oppofe their projects, croft their fav'rite views,
Their wishes fruitrate, their requests refuse ;
And make them feel that discontented wives
Cap prove the torment of their husband's lives.

VERSES

Sent to a Young LADY,

With the new Edition of SHAKESPEARE.

By the Right Hon. the Earl of CARLISLE.

OET of nature, thou whose boundless art

POET

Defcrib'd each power that rules the throbbing
heart,

Feign'd all that love, that glory e'er infpir'd,
That warm'd a Romeo, or a Percy fir'd,

In love's fweet caufe be now thy magic try'd,
And charm with future fcenes my deflio'd bride!

Lo at thy call, fiends cross the blasted heath,
And rifing fpectres daunt the pale Macbeth,
Who doom'd by guilt his anxious eye to caft
O'er dim futurity's unravell'd waste,

On alien brows beheld his wrested crown,
Deplor'd the paft, and faw the future frown!

Oh, once again thefe wond'rous fpells prepare,
With milder vifions point th' embodied air!
No more in caves let fires infernal glow,
Nor call thy phantoms from the world below.
In Laura's fight let Hymen's altar blaze,
Let Cupid's torch diffufe its brightest rays,
Let fmiling hours in feftive circles dance,
And white-rob'd priests to meet our steps advance;
In diftant view be love's dear pledges shown,
And all the long fucceffion live our own!

So, round the favour'd tomb, thy hallow'd urn, May ev'ry mufe her veftal incense burn! Still may thofe laureat brows their honours wear, Secure from critics, envy, and Voltaire ! Still on the ftage thou reard'ft may Garrick stand, For Shakespeare's lyre obeys no other hand! Still fleep thy page near Laura's pillow plac'd, And future comments grace thee like the last!

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W

HERE the lovelieft expreffion to features is join'd

By nature's most delicate pencil defign'd;

Where blushes unbidden, and fmiles without art,
Speak the foftnefs and feeling that dwell in the heart;
Where in manners enchanting no blemish we trace,
But the foul keeps the promise we had from the face;
Sure philofophy, reafon, and coldness must proye
Defences unequal to fhield us from love:
Then tell me, myfterious enchanter, oh tell;
By what wonderful art, by what magical spell,
My heart is fo fenc'd that for once I am wife,
And gaze without raptures on Amoret's eyes;
That
wifhes which never were bounded before,
Are here bounded by friendship, and ask for no more.-

my

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