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HE Baffet-Table spread, the Tallier come; Why stays SMILINDA in the Dreffing-Room? Rife, penfive Nymph, the Tallier waits for you:
Ah, Madam, fince my SHARPER is untrue,
I faw him ftand behind OMBRELIA'S Chair,
VER. 1. The Baffet-Table Spread,] There were fix Town Eclogues; two written by Mr. Pope, and the rest by Lady Wortley Montague, whose fine genius and abilities are well-known; and from whofe hand I am glad to prefent the reader with the following Sonnet, preferved by Algarotti, in the feventh volume of his works: "Thou Silver Deity of fecret night,
Direct my footsteps through the Woodland shade;
The Lover's Guardian, and the Muse's aid.
Is this the cause of your Romantic strains?
Is that the grief which you compare with mine? With ease, the smiles of Fortune I refign: Would all my gold in one bad Deal were gone; 15 Were lovely SHARPER mine, and mine alone.
By thy pale beams I folitary rove,
With all thy greatness, and thy coldness too!"
A Lover loft, is but a common care : And prudent Nymphs against that change prepare: The KNAVE OF CLUBS thrice loft! Oh! who could
This fatal Stroke, this unforeseen Distress?
See BETTY LOVET! very à propos,
Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I stay, Tho' Time is precious, and I want fome Tea.
Behold this Equipage, by Mathers wrought, With Fifty Guineas (a great Pen'worth) bought. 30 See on the Tooth-pick, Mars and Cupid strive; And both the struggling figures feem alive. Upon the bottom fhines the Queen's bright Face; A Myrtle Foliage round the Thimble-Cafe.
Jove, Jove himself, does on the Sciffars fhine;
When rival beauties for the Prefent ftrove;
This Snuff-Box,-once the pledge of SHARPER'S
At Corticelli's he the Ruffle won;
Then first his Paffion was in public fhown:
Alas! far leffer loffes than I bear,
But ah! what aggravates the killing fmart, The cruel thought, that ftabs me to the heart; This curs'd OMBRELIA, this undoing Fair, By whofe vile arts this heavy grief I bear; She, at whose name I fhed thefe fpiteful tears, She owes to me the very charms fhe wears. An aukward Thing, when firft fhe came to Town; Her shape unfashion'd, and her Face unknown: 60 She was my friend; I taught her first to spread Upon her fallow cheeks enliv'ning red:
I introduc'd her to the Park and Plays;
And by my int'reft, Cozens made her Stays. Ungrateful wretch, with mimick airs grown pert, 65 She dares to steal my Fav'rite Lover's heart.
Wretch that I was, how often have I swore, When WINNALL tally'd, I would punt no more? I know the Bite, yet to my Ruin run; And fee the Folly, which I cannot fhun.
How many Maids have SHARPER'S vows deceiv'd? How many curs'd the moment they believ'd? Yet his known falfehoods could no warning prove: Ah! what is warning to a Maid in Love?
But of what marble must that breast be form'd, To gaze on Baffet, and remain unwarm'd? 76 When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are set in decent rank; Expos'd in glorious heaps the tempting Bank, Guineas, Half-Guineas, all the shining train ; The Winner's pleasure, and the Lofer's pain: In bright confufion open Rouleaus lie, They strike the Soul, and glitter in the eye. Fir'd by the fight, all Reason I disdain; My Paffions rife, and will not bear the rein.