On me he fixt his eyes. I crav'd,
Why fo forlorn? he vainly rav'd.
Peace to his mind I did commend:

But, oh! my words were hardly at an end,

When I perceiv'd it was my friend,.
My much-lov'd friend; fo down Ifat,
And begg'd that I might fhare his fate:

I laid my cheek to his, when with a gale
Of fighs he eas'd his breast, and thus began his tale :

III.

I am a wretch of honeft race;

My parents not obfcure, nor high in titles were,
They left me heir to no disgrace.

My father was (a thing now rare)

Loyal and brave, my mother chaste and fair : The pledge of marriage-vows was only I; Alone I liv'd their much-lov'd fondled boy: They gave me generous education, high

They ftrove to raise my mind, and with it grew their joy. The fages that instructed me in arts,

And knowledge, oft would praise my parts,

And chear my parents longing hearts.

When I was call'd to a difpute,

My fellow-pupils oft ftood mute;
Yet never Envy did disjoin

Their hearts from me, nor Pride diftemper mine.
Thus my firft years in happiness I past,

Nor any bitter cup did tafte:
But, oh a deadly potion came at last.

}

As

As I lay loosely on my bed,

A thousand pleasant thoughts triumphing in my head, And as my fenfe on the rich banquet fed,

A voice (it feem'd no more, fo bufy I

Was with myself, I faw not who was nigh)

Pierc'd through my ears; Arife, thy good Senander's dead. It fhook my brain, and from their feast my frighted fenfes fled.

IV.

From thence fad difcontent, uneasy fears,
And anxious doubts of what I had to do,
Grew with fucceeding years.

The world was wide, but whither should I go?
I, whofe blooming hopes all wither'd were,
Who'd little fortune, and a deal of care?
To Britain's great metropolis I ftray'd,

Where Fortune's general game is play'd;

Where honesty and wit are often prais'd,
But fools and knaves are fortunate and rais'd;
My forward spirit prompted me to find

A converse equal to my mind:

But by raw judgment easily misled, (As giddy callow boys

Are

very fond of toys)

I mifs'd the brave and wife, and in their stead

On every fort of vanity I fed.

Gay coxcombs, cowards, knaves, and prating fools, Bullies of o'er-grown bulks and little souls, Gamesters, half-wits, and spendthrifts (such as think Mischievous midnight frolics, bred by drink

Arc

Are gallantry and wit,

Because to their lewd understandings fit) Were thofe wherewith two years at least I spent, To all their fulfome follies most incorrigibly bent; Till at the laft, myself more to abuse, I grew in love with a deceitful Muse.

V.

No fair deceiver ever us'd fuch charms,
T'enfnare a tender youth, and win his heart:
Or, when she had him in her arms,
Secur'd his love with greater art.

I fancy'd, or I dream'd (as poets always do)
No beauty with my Mufe's might compare.
Lofty fhe feem'd, and on her front fat a majestic air,
Awful, yet kind; fevere, yet fair.

Upon her head a crown fhe bore

Of laurel, which she told me fhould be mine:
And round her ivory neck she wore

A rope of largeft pearl. Each part of her did shine
With jewels and with gold,

Numberlefs to be told;

Which in imagination as I did behold,

And lov'd, and wonder'd more and more,

Said fhe, Thefe riches all, my darling, shall be thine,
Riches which never poet had before.

She promis'd me to raise my fortune and my name,
By royal fovour, and by endlefs fame;

But never told

How hard they were to get, how difficult to hold.

Thus

Thus by the arts of this moft fly
Deluder was I caught,

To her bewitching bondage brought.

Eternal conftancy we fwore,

A thousand times our vows were doubled o'er :
And as we did in our entrancements lie,

I thought no pleasure e'er was wrought so high,
No pair so happy as my Muse and I.

VI.

}

Ne'er was young lover half fo fond
When firft his pufillage he loft,
Or could of half my pleasure boast.
We never met but we enjoy'd,
Still tranfported, never cloy'd.
Chambers, closets, fields, and groves,
Bore witnefs of our daily loves;
And on the bark of every tree

You might the marks of our endearments fee.
Diftichs, pofies, and the pointed bits

Of fatire (written when a poet meets

His Mufe's caterwauling fits)

You might on every rhind behold, and swear
I and my Clio had been at it there.

Nay, by my Mufe too I was bleft
With offsprings of the choicest kinds,
Such as have pleas'd the noblest minds,

And been approv'd by judgments of the best.
But in this moft tranfporting height,
Whence I look'd down, and laught at fate,

All

All of a fudden I was alter'd grown ;

I round me look'd, and found myself alone;
My faithlefs Muse, my faihless Muse, was gone :
I try'd if I a verse could frame :

Oft I in vain invok'd my Clio's name.

The more I ftrove, the more I fail'd

I chaf'd, I bit my pen, curft my dull skull, and rail'd, Refolv'd to force m' untoward thought, and at the laft prevail'd.

A line came forth, but fuch a one,
No travailing matron in her child-birth pains,
Full of the joyful hopes to bear a fon,
Was more astonish'd at th' unlook’d-for shape
Of fome deform'd baboon, or ape,

Than I was at the hideous iffue of my brains.

I tore my paper, ftabb'd my pen,
And fwore I'd never write again,

Refolv'd to be a doating fool no more.

But when my reckoning I began to make, I found too long I'd flept, and was too late awake; I found m' ungrateful Mufe, for whofe falfe fake I did myfelf undo,

Had robb'd me of my dearest ftore, My precious time, my friends, and reputation too; And left me helpless, friendless, very proud, and poor.

VII.

Reason, which in bafe bonds my folly had enthrall'd,
I ftraight to council call'd;

Like fome old faithful friend, whom long ago
I had cashier'd, to please my flattering fair.

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