Then Maurus in his proper sphere might shine,
And these proud numbers grace great William's sign;
"This is the man, this the Nassovian, whom
"I nam'd the brave Deliverer to come."
But now the driving gales suspend the rain,
We mount our steeds, and Devon's city gain.
Hail, happy Native Land!---but I forbear
What other counties must with envy hear.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
WILLIAM PULTENEY, ESQ.
PULT'NEY! methinks you blame my breach of word;
What, cannot Paris one poor page afford:
Yes, I can sagely, when the times are past,
Laugh at those follies which I strove to taste,
And each amusement, which we shar'd, review,
Pleas'd with mere talking, since I talk to you.
But how shall I describe, in humble prose,
Their balls, assemblies, operas, and beaus?
In prose! you cry: oh! no; the Muse must aid,
And leave Parnassus for the Tuillerie's shade.
Shall he (who late Britannia's city trod,
And led the draggled Muse, with pattens shod,
Thro' dirty lanes' and alleys' doubtful ways)
Refuse to write, when Paris asks his lays?
Well, then, I'll try. Descend, ye beauteous Nine!
In all the colours of the rainbow shine;
* Blackmore's Prince Arthur, Book V.
Let sparkling stars your neck and ear adorn,
Lay on the blushes of the crimson morn,
So may ye balls and gay assemblies grace,
And at the op❜ra claim the foremost place.
Trav'llers should ever fit expression chuse,
Nor with low phrase the lofty theme abuse.
When they describe the state of eastern lords,
Pomp and magnificence should swell their words;
And when they paint the serpent's scaly pride,
Their lines should kiss, their numbers smoothly slide:
But they, unmindful of poetic rules,
Describe alike Mockaws and great Moguls.
Dampier would thus, without ill-meaning satire,
Dress forth, in simple style, the petit-maitre.
"In Paris there's a race of animals,
""" `(I've seen them at their operas and balls)
"They stand erect, they dance whene'er they walk,
"Monkeys in action, perroquets in talk;
"They're crown'd with feathers, like the cockatoo, "And, like camelions, daily change their hue: "From patches justly plac'd they borrow graces; "And with vermilion lacker o'er their faces. "This custom, as we visibly discern, "They by frequenting ladies' toilets learn." Thus might the trav'ller easy truth impart; Into the subject let me nobly start.
How happy lives the man, how sure to charm, Whose knot embroider'd flutters down his arm!
On him the ladies cast the yielding glance,
Sigh in his songs, and languish in his dance;
While wretched is the wit, contemn'd, forlorn,
Whose gummy hat no scarlet plumes adorn;
No broider'd flow'rs his worsted ankle grace,
Nor cane emboss'd with gold directs his pace;
No lady's favour on his sword is hung:
What tho' Apollo dictate from his tongue ?
His wit is spiritless and void of grace,
Who wants th' assurance of brocade and lace.
While the gay fop genteely talks of weather,
The fair in raptures dote upon his feather;
Like a court-lady tho' he write and spell,
His minuet step was fashion'd by Marcell: *
He dresses, fences. What avails to know?
For women chuse their men, like siks, for show.
Is this the thing, you cry, that Paris boasts ?
Is this the thing renown'd among our toasts?
For such a flutt'ring sight we need not roam;
Our own assemblies shine with these at home.
Let us into the field of beauty start;
Beauty's a theme that ever warm'd 'my heart.
Think not, ye Fair! that I the sex accuse:
How shall I spare you, prompted by the Muse?
(The Muses all are prudes) she rails, she frets,
Amidst the sprightly nation of coquettes;
Yet let not us their loose coquettry blame;
Women of ev'ry nation are the same.
* A famous dancing-master.
You ask me if Parisian dames, like ours, With rattling dice profane the Sunday's hours? If they the gamester's pale-ey'd vigils keep, And stake their honour while their husbands sleep? Yes, Sir; like English toasts, the dames of France Will risk their income on a single chance. Nannette last night a tricking Pharaon play'd, The cards the taillier's sliding hand obey'd; To-day her neck no brilliant circle wears, Nor the ray-darting pendant loads her ears. Why does old Chloris an assembly hold? Chloris each night divides the sharper's gold. Corrina's cheek with frequent losses burns, And no bold trente la va her fortune turns. Ah! too rash virgin! where's thy virtue flown? She pawns her person for the sharper's loan. Yet who with justice can the fair upbraid, Whose debts of honour are so duly paid?
But let me not forget the toilet's cares,
Where art each morn the languid cheek repairs:
This red's too pale, nor gives a distant grace;
Madame to-day puts on her opera face:
From this we scarce extract the milk-maid's bloom,
Bring the deep dye that warms across the room.
Nor flames her cheek, so strong her charms prevail,
That on her gown the silken rose looks pale!
Not but that France some native beauty boasts,
Clermont and Charolois might grace our toasts.
When the sweet-breathing spring unfolds the buds, Love flies the dusty town for shady woods.
Then Tottenham fields with roving beauty swarm,
And Hampstead balls the City virgins warm;
Then Chelsea's meads o'erhear perfidious vows,
And the prest grass defrauds the grazing cows.
'Tis here the same, but in a higher sphere;
For ev'n court ladies sin in open air.
What cit with a gallant would trust his spouse
Beneath the tempting shade of Greenwich boughs?
What Peer of France would let his Duchess rove, 111
Where Boulonge's closest woods invite to love?
But here no wife can blást her husband's fame;
Cuckold is grown an honourable name.
Stretch'd on the grass the shepherd sighs his pain,
And on the grass what shepherd sighs in vain?
On Chloe's lap here Damon laid along,
Melts with the languish of her am'rous song:
There Iris flies Palamon thro' the glade,
Nor trips by chance---till in the thickest shade:
Here Celimene defends her lips and breast,
For kisses are by struggling closer prest:
Alexis there with eager flame grows bold,
Nor can the nymph his wanton fingers hold.
Be wise, Alexis! what, so near the road!
Hark, a coach rolls, and husbands are abroad!
Such were our pleasures in the days of yore,
When am'rous Charles Britannia's sceptre bore;
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