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He shows you your lost honour to retrieve;
Our troops will fight, when once the senate give.
Quit your cabals and factions, and in spite
Of Whig and Tory in this cause unite.
One vote will then send Anjou back to France ;
There let the meteor end his airy dance :
Else to the Mantuan soil he may repair,
Ev'n abdicated gods were Latium's care,
At worst, he 'll find some Cornish borough here.

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WH

HERE musick and more powerful beauties reign,

Who can support the pleasure, and the pain? Here their soft magick those two Syrens try, And if we listen, or but look, we die. Why should we then the wondrous tales admire, Of Orpheus' numbers, or Amphion's lyre; Of walls erected by harmonious skill, How mountains mov'd, and rapid streams stood fill'! Behold this scene of beauty, and confess The wonder greater, and the fi&tion less. Like human victims here we stand decreed To worship those bright altars where we bleed. Who braves his fate in fields, muft tremble here; *Triumphant Love more vallals makes than Fear.

No

No fa&tion homage to the fair denies ;
The right divine 's apparent in their eyes.
That empire 's fix'd, that 's founded in desire;
Those Aames, the veitals guard, can ne'er expire.

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W ho dares not plot in this good-natur'd age.?

Each place is privileg'd except the stage;
There the dread phalanx of reformers come,
Sworn foes to wit, as Carthage was to Rome;
Their ears fo fanétify'd, no scenes can please,
But heavy hymns, or pensive homilies :
Truths, plainly told, their tender nature wound,
Young rakes muft, like old patriarchs, expound;
The painted punk the profelyte must plav,
And bawds, like fille-devotes, procure and pray.
How nature is inverted ! foon you 'll see
Senates unanimous, and feets agree,
Jews at extortion rail, and Monks at mystery.
Let characters be represented true,
An airy Sinner makes an aukward Prue,
With force and fitting freedom vice arraign;
Though pulpits flatter, let the stage speak plain.

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If Verres gripes the poor, or Nænius write,
Call that the robber, this the parasite.
Ne'er aim to make an eagle of an owl;
Cinna 's a statesman; Sydrophel, a tool.
Our censurers with want of thought dispense,
But tremble at the hidcous tin of sense.
Who would not suck hard fate as ours bemoan,
Indicted for fonie wit, and darnn'd for none?
But if, to-day, some scarelal should appear,
Let those precise Tartuffs bind o’er Moliere.
Poet, and Papist too, they'll surely maul,
There 's no indulgences at Hicks's-hall.
Gold only can their pious spite allay,
They call none criminals that can but pay:
The heedless shrines with victims they invoke,
Tlicy take the fat, and give the gods the smoke.

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SUCH

UCH was our builder's art, that, soon as nam’d,

This fabrick, like the infant-world, was fram’d.
'The architect must on dull order wait,
But 'tis the Poet only can create.
None else, at pleasure, can duration give :
When marble fails, the Muses' flructures live.

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The Cyprian fane is now no longer seen,
Though sacred to the name of love's fair queen.
Ev'n Athens scarce in pompous ruin stands,
Though finish'd by the learn’d Minerva's hands.
More sure presages from these walls we find,
By Beauty * founded, and by Wit design d.

In the good age of ghostly ignorance,
How did cathedrals rise, and zeal advance !
The
merry

monks said orisons at ease,
Large were their meals, and light their penances;
Pardons for fins were purchas'd with estates,
And none but rogues in rags dy'd reprobates.
But, now that pious pageantry's no more,
And stages thrive, as churches did before ;
Your own magnificence you here survey,
Majeític columns stand, where dunghills lay,
And carrs triumphal rise from carts of hay.
Swains here are taught to hope, and nymphs to fear,
And big Almanzor's fight mocks Blenheim's here.
Descending goddesses adorn our scenes,
And quit their bright abodes for gilt machines.
Should Jove, for this fair circle, leave his throne,
He 'd meet a lightning fiercer than his own.
Though to the fun his towering eagles rise,
They scarce could bear the lustre of these eyes.

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* Lady Sunderland,

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WHAT odd fantafic

young

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things we women do!
Who would not listen when lovers woo?
What! die a maid, yet have the choice of two !
Ladies are often cruel to their cost:
To give you pain, themselves they punish most.
Vows of virginity should well be weighid;
Too oft' they ’re cancel'd, though in convents made.
Would you revenge such rash resolves you may
Be spiteful and believe the thing we say;
We hate you,, when you 're easily said nay.
How needless, if you

knew

us, were your fears ! Let Love have eyes, and Beauty will have ears. Our hearts are form’d, as you yourselves would choose,. Too proud to ask, too humble to refuse : We give to merit, and to wealth we sell; He fighs with most success that settles well. The woes of wedlock with the joys we mix;: 'Tis best repenting in a coach and fix. Blame not our conduct, since we but pursue Those lively lessons we have learn’d from you :Your breasts no more the fire of beauty warms, But wicked wealth usurps the power of charms. What pains to get the gaudy thing you hate, To swell in show, and be a wretch in state !

Ac

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