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Such this day's doctrine-in another fit

She fins with Poets thro' pure Love of Wit.
What has not fir'd her bofom or her brain?
Cæfar and Tall-boy, Charles and Charlemaʼne.
As Helluo, late Dictator of the Feast,

75

The Nofe of Hautgout, and the Tip of Tafte, 80
Critick'd your wine, and analyz'd your meat,
Yet on plain Pudding deign'd at-home to eat ;
So Philomedé, lect'ring all mankind
On the foft Paffion, and the Taste refin❜d,
Th'Addrefs, the Delicacy-ftoops at once,
And makes her hearty meal upon a Dunce.
Flavia's a Wit, has too much sense to pray;
To toaft our wants and wishes, is her
way;
Nor afks of God, but of her Stars, to give

85

The mighty bleffing, "while we live, to live." 90

VARIATIONS.

VER: 77. What has not fir'd, &c.] in the MS.

In whose mad brain the mixt ideas roll

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Of Tall-boy's breeches, and of Cæfar's foul.

NOTES.

VER. 87. VI. Contrarie- | God, but of her Stars,

ties in the Witty and Refin'd. P.

VER. 89. Nor afks of

90.

Death, that Opiate of the foul !] See Note on of Ep. to Lord Cobham,

Then all for Death, that Opiate of the foul!
Lucretia's dagger, Rofamonda's bowl.
Say, what can cause such impotence of mind?
A Spark too fickle, or a Spouse too kind.
Wife Wretch with Pleasures too refin'd to please ;
With too much Spirit to be e'er at ease;

96

With too much Quickness ever to be taught;
With too much Thinking to have common Thought:
You purchase Pain with all that Joy can give,
And die of nothing but a Rage to live.

100

Turn then from Wits; and look on Simo's Mate,

No Afs fo meek, no Afs fo obftinate.

Or her, that owns her Faults, but never mends,
Because she's honeft, and the beft of Friends.
Or her, whofe life the Church and Scandal share,
For ever in a Paffion, or a Pray'r.

106

Or her, who laughs at Hell, but (like her Grace) Cries," Ah! how charming, if there's no fuch place!" Or who in sweet viciffitude appears

Of Mirth and Opium, Ratafie and Tears, 110

NOTES.

VER. 107. Or her, who | fuch place!"] i. e. Her who laughs at Hell, but (like affects to laugh out of faher Grace)-Cries, "Ah!hion, and strives to disbehow charming if there's no lieve out of fear.

The daily Anodyne, and nightly Draught,

To kill those foes to Fair ones, Time and Thought.
Woman and Fool are two hard things to hit ;
For true No-meaning puzzles more than Wit.

120

But what are these to great Atoffa's mind ? IIS Scarce once herself, by turns all Womankind! Who, with herself, or others, from her birth Finds all her life one warfare upon earth : Shines, in expofing Knaves, and painting Fools, Yet is, whate'er she hates and ridicules. No Thought advances, but her Eddy Brain Whisks it about, and down it goes again. Full fixty years the World has been her Trade, The wifest Fool much Time has ever made. From loveless youth to unrespected age, No Paffion gratify'd except her Rage. So much the Fury still out-ran the Wit, The Pleasure mifs'd her, and the Scandal hit. Who breaks with her, provokes Revenge from Hell, But he's a bolder man who dares be well.

Her ev'ry turn with Violence pursu'd,

Nor more a storm her Hate than Gratitude :^

VARIATIONS.

After 122. in the MS.

Opprefs'd with wealth and wit, abundance fad 1-
One makes her poor, the other makes her mad.

125

130

To that each Paffion turns, or foon or late;

Love, if it makes her yield, must make her hate:
Superiors? death? and Equals? what a curfe! 135
But an Inferior not dependant? worfe.
Offend her, and she knows not to forgive;
Oblige her, and fhe'll hate you while you live:
But die, and fhe'll adore you-Then the Buft
And Temple rise-then fall again to dust.
Laft night, her Lord was all that's good and great;
A Knave this morning, and his Will a Cheat.
Strange! by the Means defeated of the Ends,

140

By Spirit robb'd of Pow'r, by Warmth of Friends, By Wealth of Follow'rs! without one distress 145 Sick of herself thro' very selfishness!

Atoffa, curs'd with ev'ry granted pray'r,

Childless with all her Children, wants an Heir.
To Heirs unknown descends th'ungarded store,
Or wanders, Heav'n-directed, to the Poor.

VARIATIONS.

After 148. in the MS.

This Death decides, nor lets the bleffing fall
On any one she hates, but on them all.

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

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poor.

150

VER. 150. Or wanders, | lading and referring to the Heav'n-directed, &c.] Al- great principle of his Philo

155

Pictures like these, dear Madam, to design, Afks no firm hand, and no unerring line ; Some wand'ring touches, fome reflected light, Some flying stroke alone can hit 'em right: For how should equal Colours do the knack? Chameleons who can paint in white and black? "Yet Cloe fure was form'd without a spot"Nature in her then err'd not, but forgot. "With ev'ry pleafing, ev'ry prudent part, "Say, what can Cloe want?"-She wants a Heart. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought; 161 But never, never, reach'd one gen'rous Thought. Virtue fhe finds too painful an endeavour,

Content to dwell in Decencies for ever.

NOTES.

fophy, which he never lofes | to fecure it from being ridifight of, and which teaches, that Providence is inceffantly turning the evils arifing from the follies and vices of men to general good.

VER. 157: "Yet Cloe fure, &c.] The purpose of the poet in this Character is important: It is to fhew that the politic or prudent government of the paffions is not enough to make a Character amiable, nor even

culous, if the end of that government be not pursued, which is the free exercife of the focial appetites after the felfish ones have been subdued; for that if, tho' reafon govern, the heart be never confulted, we interest ourselves as little in the fortune of fuch a Character, as in any of the foregoing, which paffions or caprice drive up and down at random.

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