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While Wits and Templars ev'ry sentence raise,
FIRST PRINTED IN 1727,
When simple Macer,t now of bigh renown,
gave the harmless fellow a good word. Set up with these, he ventur'd on the town, And in a borrow'd play outdid poor
at once to bear and rot.
* Thus also originally stood this concluding line, in which is well known the name was altered 10 Atticus ; a circumstance which has occasioned a considerable controversy, too long to be here introduced; but for which the curious reader is referred to the second volume of tbe Biographia Britannica ; to Bishop Hurd's Life of Bishop Warburton ; and to the Notes of Dr. Warton, in his edition of Pope, 1797, vol. iv. p. 34. N.
† Said to be the character of James Moore Smyth, author of "The Rival Modes, a comedy, in 1726.” He pilfered verses from Pope; and joined in a political paper with the duke of Wharton, called, " Tlie loquisitor," written with such violence against government, that he was soon obliged to drop it. Dr. WARTON.
| I remember old Demoivre told me, about fifty years ago, that all he remembered of Corneille was, that he had seen him in red stockings at the theatre, Dr. WARTON.
Now he begs verse, * and what he gets commends,
So some coarse country wech, almost decay’d,
SYLVIA,F A FRAGMENT.
SYLVIA my heart in wondrous wise alarm’d,
* He requested, by public advertisements, the aid of the ingeniour, to make up a Miscellany, in 1713, H.
† This fragment was, with some variation, introduced by Mr. Pope into the second of his moral essays, “Or the Characters of Women.' N
Now coy, and studious in no point to fall,
-y at a ball :
Men, some to bus'ness, some to pleasure take;
TO LADY WINCHELSEA.
OCCASIONED BY FOUR SATIRICAL VERSES ON WOMEN WITS, IN THE RAPE
OF THE LOCK.
In vain you boast poetic names of yore,
* I have been informed, on good authority, that this charac er was designed for the then duchess of Hamilton. Dr. WARTON,
A BISHOP by his neighbours hated
TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.
SENT ON HER BIRTH DAY, JUNE 15.
O, BE thou blest with all that Heaven can send, Long health, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend ! Not with those toys the female race admire, Riches that vex, and vanities that tire; Not as the world its petty slaves rewards, A youth of frolicks, an old age of cards; Fair to do purpose, artful to no end; Young without lovers, old without a friend; A fop their passion, but their prize a sot; Alive, ridiculous; and dead, forgot !
Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, And the gay conscience of a life well spent, Calin ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face: Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear;
Till Death unfelt that tender frame destroy,
I SAID to my heart, between sleeping and waking, Thou wild thing, that always art leaping or acbing, What black, brown, or fair, in what clime, in what da
tion, By turns has not taught thee a pit-a-pat-ation ?
Thus accus'd, the wild thing gave this sober reply:
When our Sappho appears, she whose wit 's so refin’d,
Prudentia as vainly would put in her claim,
on Heaven, tho' man is her aim : 'Tis love, pot devotion, that turus up her
eyes: Those stars of this world are 100 good for the skies.
But Chloe so lively, so easy, so fair,
* The earl of Peterborough. Hi