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Not that their pleasures caus'd her discontent,

She figh'd not that they ftay'd, but that she went.
She went, to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion'd halls, dull Aunts, and croaking rooks;
She went from Op'ra, Park, Affembly, Play,
To morning walks, and pray'rs three hours a day;
To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea,
To mufe, and fpill her folitary tea,

Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the fpoon,
Count the flow Clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,

Hum half a tune, tell ftories to the fquire;

Up to her godly garret after seven,

There starve and pray, for that's the way to heav'n. Some Squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack; Whofe game is Whisk, whofe treat a toaft in fack; Who vifits with a gun, prefents you birds,

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25 Then gives a smacking bufs, and cries,-No words! Or with his hound comes hollowing from the ftable, Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table; Whofe laughs are hearty, tho' his jefts are coarse, And loves you beft of all things-but his horse. 30 In fome fair ev'ning, on your elbow laid, You dream of Triumphs in the rural shade ; In pensive thought recall the fancy'd scene, See Coronations rife on ev'ry green;

Before you pass th' imaginary fights

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Of Lords, and Earls, and Dukes, and garter'd

Knights,

While the fpread fan o'erfhades your clofing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish fceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls!

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So when your Slave, at fome dear idle time, (Not plagu❜d with head-achs, or the want of rhyme)Stands in the streets, abftracted from the crew, And while he seems to ftudy, thinks of you; Juft when his fancy points your sprightly eyes, Or fees the blush of foft Parthenia rise, Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite, Streets, Chairs, and Coxcombs rush upon my fight; Vex'd to be still in town, I knit my brow,

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Look four, and hum a Tune, as you may-now. 50

THE

BASSET-TABLE.

ΑΝ

E CLOGUE.

CARDELIA. SMILIND A.

CARDEL I A.

HE Baffet-Table spread, the Tallier come;

Rife, penfive Nymph, the Tallier waits for you:

SMILIND A.

Ah, Madam, fince my SHARPER is untrue, I joyless make my once ador'd Alpeu.

The Baffet-Table.] Only this of all the Town Eclogues was Mr. Pope's; and is here printed from a copy corrected by his own hand.---The humour of it lies in this, that the one is in love with the Game, and the other with the Sharper.

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I saw him ftand behind OMBRELLA's Chair,
And whisper with that foft, deluding air,
And thofe feign'd fighs which cheat the lift'ning
Fair.

CARDELIA.

Is this the caufe of your Romantic strains ?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains.
As You by Love, so I by Fortune cross't;
One, one bad Deal, Three Septleva's have loft.

SMILIND A.

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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.

CARDEL I A.

A Lover loft, is but a common care ;

And prudent Nymphs against that change prepare: The KNAVE OF CLUBS thrice lost: Oh! who could

guefs

This fatal ftroke, this unforeseen Diftrefs?

SMILIN. DA.

See BETTY LOVET! very à propos,

She all the cares of Love and Play does know :
Dear BETTY shall th' important point decide;
BETTY, who oft the pain of each has try'd;

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Impartial, fhe fhall fay who fuffers moft,
By Cards' Ill Ufage, or by Lovers loft.

LOVET.

Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I ftay, Tho' Time is precious, and I want fome Tea.

CARDEL I A.

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Behold this Equipage, by Mathers wrought, With Fifty Guineas (a great Pen'worth) bought, 30 See on the Tooth-pick, Mars and Cupid ftrive; 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 Scizars shine; 35 The Metal, and the Workmanship, divine!

SMILIND A.

This Snuff-box, once the pledge of SHARPER'S love,

When rival beauties for the Prefent ftrove;

At Corticelli's he the Raffle won;

Then firft his Paffion was in public shown :

HAZARDIA blush'd, and turn'd her head afide,

A Rival's envy (all in vain) to hide.

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This Snuff Box,- -on the Hinge fee Brilliants fhine: This Snuff-Box will I ftake; the Prize is mine.

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