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Unknown, unheeded, long his offsping lay,
TO THE COMEDY OF
THE GOOD-NATUR'D MAN. 1769.
REST by the load of life, the weary mind
Our anxious bard without complaint may share
Diftreft alike the statesman and the wit,
Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply.
"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," Says fwelling Crispin, "begg'd a cobler's vote." "This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries, "Lies at my feet; I hifs him and he dies." The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; The bard may fupplicate, but cannot bribe. Yet, judg'd by those whose voices ne'er were fold, He feels no want of ill-perfuading gold; But, confident of praise, if praise be due, Trufts without fear to merit and to you.
HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA, MURZA.
MUSTAPHA TO MURZA.
What plagues, what tortures, are in store for thee,
Behold the model of confummate beauty,
Such was the will of Heav'n-A band of Greeks That mark'd my courfe, fufpicious of my purpose, Rufh'd out and feiz'd me, thoughtlefs and unarm'd, Breathlefs, amaz'd, and on the guarded beach Detain'd me till Demetrius fet me free.
So fure the fall of greatnefs rais'd on crimes!
When haughty guilt exults with impious joy,
ARRY a Turk! a haughty, tyrant king! Who thinks us women born to drefs and fing To please his fancy !-fee no other man!Let him perfuade me to it-if he can : Befides, he has fifty wives; and who can bear To have the fiftieth part her paltry share?
'Tis true, the fellow 's hand fome, ftrait, and tall; But how the devil fhould he please us all! My fwain is little-true-but, be it known, My pride's to have that little all my own. Men will be ever to their errors blind, Where woman's not allow'd to fpeak her mind ; I swear this Eastern pageantry is nonsense, And for one man-one wife's enough of confcience.
In vain proud man ufurps what 's woman's due; For us alone, they honour's paths pursue: Infpir'd by us, they glory's heights afcend; Woman the fource, the object, and the end. 'Tho' wealth, and pow'r, and glory, they receive, These all are trifles to what we can give. For us the statesman labours, hero fights, Bears toilfome days, and wakes long tedious nights; And, when bleft peace has filenc'd war's alarms, Receives his full reward in beauty's arms.