en'

ROXANA, OR THE DRAWING-ROOM.

t,

AN ECLOGUE.

raise

Roxana from the court returning late,
Sigh'd her soft sorrow at St. James's gate :
Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her breast;
Not her own chairmen with more weight opprest:
They curse the cruel weight they're doom'd to bear;
She in more gentle sounds express'd her care.

Was it for this, that I these roses wear?
For this, new-set the jewels for

my

hair?
Ah Princess! with what zeal have I pursu'd ?
Almost forgot the duty of a prude.
This King, I never could attend too soon;
I miss'd my pray’rs, to get me dress'd by noon.
For thee, ah! what for thee did I resign?
My passions, pleasures, all that e'er was mine:
I've sacrific'd both modesty and ease ;
Left operas, and went to filthy plays :
Double entendres shock'd my tender ear;
Yet even this, for thee, I chuse to bear :
In glowing youth, when nature bids be gay,
And ev'ry joy of life before me lay;
By honour prompted, and by pride restrain’d,
The pleasures of the young my soul disdain'd :
Sermons I sought, and with a mien severe,
Censur'd my neighbours, and said daily pray’r.
Alas, how chang'd! with this same sermon-mien,
The filthy What-d'ye-call-it-I have seen.

Ah, royal Princess ! for whose sake I lost
The reputation, which so dear had cost;
I, who avoided ev'ry public place,
When bloom and beauty bid me shew my face,
Now near thee, constant, I each night abide,
With never-failing duty by my side ;
Myself and daughters standing in a row,
To all the foreigners a goodly show.
Oft had your drawing-room been sadly thin,
And merchants' wives close by your side had been;
Had I not amply fill’d the empty place,
And sav'd your Highness from the dire disgrace:
Yet Cockatilla's artifice prevails,
When all my duty and my merit fails :
That Cockatilla, whose deluding airs
Corrupts our virgins, and our youth insnares;
So sunk her character, and lost her fame,
Scarce visited, before your Highness came;
Yet for the bed-chamber 'tis she you choose,
Whilst zeal, and fame, and virtue

you

refuse.
Ah worthy choice ; not one of all your train
Which censures blast not, or dishonours stain.
I know the court, with all its treach'rous wiles,
The false caresses, and undoing smiles.
Ah Princess ! learn'd in all the courtly arts,
To cheat our hopes, and yet to gain our hearts.

TO

LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE.

I.

In beauty, or wit,

No mortal as yet
To question your empire has dar'd;

But men of discerning

Have thought that in learning, To yield to a lady was hard.

II.

Impertinent schools,

With musty dull rules, Have reading to females denied :

So papists refuse

The Bible to use, Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.

III.

'Twas a woman at first,

(Indeed she was curst) In knowledge that tasted delight,

And sages agree

The laws should decree To the first possessor the right.

IV.

Then bravely, fair dame,

Resume the old claim, Which to your whole sex does belong;

And let men receive,

From a second bright Eve,
The knowledge of right and of wrong.

V.

But if the first Eve

Hard doom did receive When only one apple had she,

What a punishment new

Shall be found out for you, Who tasting, have robb’d the whole tree?

THE TRANSLATOR.

OZELL, at Sanger's call, invok'd his Muse, For who to sing for Sanger could refuse? His numbers such as Sanger's self might use Reviving Perrault, murd'ring Boileau, he Slander'd the ancients first, then Wycherley ; Which yet not much that old bard's anger rais'd, Since those were slander'd most, whom Ozell prais’d. Nor had the gentle satire caus'd complaining, Had not sage Rowe pronounc'd it entertaining ; How great must be the judgment of that writer, Who the Plain-dealer damns, and prints the Biter !

Egbert Sanger served his apprenticeship with Jacob Tonson, and succeeded Bernard Lintot in his shop at Middle Temple Gate, Fleet-Street. Lintot printed Ozell's translation of Perrault's Characters, and Sanger his translation of Boileau's Lutrin, recommended by Mr. Rowe, Anno 1709.