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Shou'd Genius a visit to Greatness presume,
He's scurvily offer'd a Chair;
Who wonder the Fright shou'd come there.
Still flatter, be venal, and vain ; We know what ye feel, what ye pay for each treat,
And we know too-Ye dare not complain. With unmeaning gaze pamper'd Wealth wheel'd
along, With the Scurvy of Vanity swell’d, Took the snuff of Contempt at the more worthy
Humanity deign me thy aid,
Not to scorn those my MAKER has made.
YLEOPATRA the gay, as old stories declare,
Pat Mark Anthony oft to the rout:
No modern among us will doubt.
But yet I insist
Our own Times are the best, Antiquity! what can that do, Sir?
Cou'd Livia, or Lais,
Faustina, or Thais, Compare to the fine
I know who, Sir?
Let Placemen receive, and let Patriots oppose,
And raise unforgiving dissentions ;
Are Ministers sport,
They may Boroughs command,
I wish only to stand As Member for fine
I know who, Sir.
Possessors, Assessors, envelope the mind
With Ethics of old Aristotle ;
The best in the College,
Who boast of their knowledge, The Science Supreme never knew, Sir,
Unless they can prove,
That a Lecture of Love They have had with the fine I know who, Sir.
You this or that system embrace or reject,
As Philosophy's fashion is ruling;
Tho' sparks there arise,
And as to what touching can do, Sir,
It is all but a joke,
When compar’d to the stroke
. The atoms of Cartes Si. Isaac destroy'd;
Lebnitz pilfer'd our Countryman's Fluxions; Newton found out Attraction, and prov'd Nature's
void, Spite of prejudic'd Plenum's constructions.
Gravitation can boast,
In the form of my Toast,
What FELLOW, or SOPH,
Will in Tangents fly off From the Center of fine I know who, Sir.
Ye sensible Socials who dare, now and then,
To laugh at some Folks in this Nation, 'Tis Beauty which sculptures us Blocks into Men, To beauty then make a Libation,
Poor Lovers may prize,
Lips, Legs, Arms, and Eyes, Such piece-meal pretensions won't do, Sir ?
No Part shall be lost
When I mention my Toast,“ Here's the WHOLE of the fine I know who, Sir."
As thus, in Soliloquy, rambling along,
As a Hound after Hare the long meadow o'erleaps, It was something like Love which gave speed to my
steps; I beat thro' the Thicket, upon the Game sprung, And too soon had a view of the Syren who sung.
Oh! how my heart beat, how alarm'd was my pride, To behold a young Rustic fix'd close at her side; They toy'd and they prattled, 'twas innocent play, Their rosy cheeks spoke all the warmth of new May.
The Lad and the Lass look'd like Eden's first pair, ;
I turn'd from the sight, then return’d in despair,
step, nor cou'd
go, nor cou'd
Home heavily sighing, I halted along,
books I expected some Nostrum to find, But Learning to Love has small share in the Mind; No Morals I met there the wonder cou'd work, But Instinct suggested to draw a long Cork. As Sorrow is dry, the best thing I cou'd do, To make my Cure perfect, was-drawing out Two: So Wine before Wenching hereafter I'll say, For Wine's good in all Months, as well as in May.
A TIME FOR ALL THINGS.