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- To win me from his tender arms,
« Unnumber'd suitors came; } “ Who prais'd me for imputed charms,
“And felt, or feign'd a flame. “ Each hour a mercenary crowd
" With richest proffers strove; “Among the rest young Edwin bow'd,
“But never talk'd of love. * In humble, simplest habit clad,
“No wealth or power had he; “ Wisdom and worth were all he had,
“But these were all to me. « The blossom opening to the day,
“ The dews of heav'n refin'd, « Could nought of purity display,
“ To emulate his mind. “ The dew, the blossoms of the tree,
“ With charms inconstant shine; « Their charıns were his, but woe to me,
“ Their constancy was mine. “ For still I try'd each fickle art, ,
“ Importunate and vain; “ And while his passion touch'd my heart,
“ I triumph'd in his pain. “ Till quite dejected with my scorn,
“ He left me to my pride; “ And sought a solitude forlorn,
“ In secret where he dy'd. “ But mine the sorrow, mine the fault,
“ And well my life shall pay ; " I'll seek the solitude he sought,
“ And stretch me where he lay. “ And there forlorn, despairing, hid,
“ I'll lay me down and die ! “ 'Twas so for me that Edwin did,
“ And so for him will I."
"Forbid it, heaven!” the Hermit cry'd,
And clasp'd her to his breast: The wondering fair-one turn'd to chide ; ''Twas Edwin's self that prest.. . “ Turn, Angelina, ever dear;
“My charmer, turn to see “Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
“ Restor'd to love and thee ! “Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
“And every care resign : " And shall we never, never part,
“My life my all that's mine!
“No, never, from this hour to part,
" We'll live and love so true, “The sigh that rends thy constant heart
"Shall break thy Edwin's too."
THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.
SECLUDED from domestic strife,
Jack Book-worm led a college life ;
A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiest man alive;
He drank his glass, and crack'd his joke,
And freshmen wonder'd as he spoke.
Such pleasures, unalloy'd with care,
Could any accident impair?
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix i
Our swain arriv'd at thirty-six ? .
O had the Archer ne'er come down
To ravage in a country town!
Or Flavia been content to stop
At triumphs in a Fleet-street shop.
O had her eyes forgot to blaze!
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze.
O! But let exclamation cease,
Her presence banish'd all his peace.
So with decorum all things carry'd;
Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was married.
Need we expose to vulgar sight
The raptures of the bridal night?
Need we intrude on hallow'd ground,
Or draw the curtains clos'd around ?
Let it suffice, that each had charms;
He clasp'd a goddess in his arms;
And, tho? she felt his usage rough,
Yet in a man 'twas well enough. .
The honey-moon like lightning flew,
The second brought its transports too.
A third, a fourth, were not amiss,
The fifth was friendship mix'd with bliss;
- But, when a twelvemonth pass'd away,
Jack found his goddess made of clay;
Found half the charms that deck'd her face
Arose from powder, shreds, or lace :
But still the worst remain'd behind,
That very face had robb'd her mind.
Skill'd in no other arts was she,
But dressing, patching, repartee;
And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a slattern or a belle;
'Tis true, she dress’d with modern grace,
Half naked at a ball or race;
But when at home, at board or bed,
Five greasy night-caps wrapp'd her head.
Could so much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend?
Could not curtain lectures bring
To decency so fine a thing?
In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting:
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting.
Fond to be seen, she kept a bevy
Of powder'd coxcombs at her levee;
The 'squire and captain took their stations,
And twenty other near relations;
Jack sack'd his pipe, and often broke
A sigh in suffocating smoke;
While all their hours were past between
Insulting repartee or spleen.
Thus as her faults each day were known,
He thinks her features coarser grown:
He fancies every vice she shews,
Or thins her lip, or points her nose:
Whenever rage or envy rise,
How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes;
He knows not how, but so it is,
Her face is grown a knowing phyz;
And, tho' her fops are wond'rous civil,
He thinks her ugly as the devil.
Now, to perplex the raveli'd noose,
As each a different way pursues,
While sullen or loquacious strife
Promis'd to hold them on for life,
That dire disease whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower:
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare
Levell'd its terrors at the fair ;
And, rifling every youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.
The glass, grown hateful to her sight, -
Reflected now a perfect fright;
Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her paste and creams,
To smoothe her skin, or hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens :
The 'squire hiinself was seen to yield,
And e'en the captain quit the field.
Poor madam now condemn'd to hack.
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly nown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old ::
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;
For tawdry finery is seen
A person ever neatly clean;
No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good-nature every day:
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,
Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.
In Bow-Street, Covent-Gardon.
SAY, cruel Iris, pretty rake,
w Dear mercenary beauty,
What annual off'ring shall I make
Expressive of my duty ?
My heart, a victim to thine eyes, so
Should I at once deliver,
Say, would the angry fair-one prize
The gift who slights the giver?
A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy,
My rivals give-and let 'em :
If gems, or gold, impart a joy,
I'll give them-when I get 'em.
I'll give-but not the full-blown rose,
Or rose-bud more in fashion;
Such short-liv'd off'rings but disclose
A transitory passion.
I'll give thee something yet unpaid,
Not less sincere, than civil:
I'll give thee-ah! too charming maid,
I'll give thee-to the devil.