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See BETTY LOVET! very à propos,

She all the cares of Love and Play does know:
Dear BETTY fhall th' important point decide;
BETTY, who oft the pain of each has try’d;
Impartial, fhe fhall fay who fuffers most,
By Cards' Ill Ufage, or by Lovers loft.

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 fciffars fhine;
The Metal, and the Workmanship, divine!



This Snuff-Box,-once the pledge of SHARPER'S


When rival beauties for the Present strove;

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At Corticelli's he the Ruffle won;

Then first his Paffion was in public shown:
HAZARDIA blush'd, and turn'd her Head afide,
A Rival's envy (all in vain) to hide.

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



Alas! far leffer loffes than I bear,

Have made a Soldier figh, a Lover swear.
And Oh! what makes the disappointment hard,
'Twas my own Lord that drew the fatal Card.
In complaifance, I took the Queen he gave;
Tho' my own fecret wifh was for the Knave.
The Knave won Sonica, which I had chose;
And the next Pull, my Septleva I lofe.


But ah! what aggravates the killing smart,
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 whofe name I fhed thefe fpiteful tears,
She owes to me the very charms she wears,

An aukward Thing, when first she came to Town;
Her fhape unfashion'd, and her Face unknown:
She was my friend; I taught her first to spread
Upon her fallow cheeks enliv'ning red;

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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 fwore, When WINNALL tally'd, I would punt no more? I knew the Bite, yet to my Ruin run;

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And fee the Folly, which I cannot shun.


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?


When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are fet in decent rank
Expos'd in glorious heaps the tempting Bank,
Guineas, Half-Guineas, all the fhining 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 rise, and will not bear the rein.


Look upon Baffet, you who Reafon boast;
And fee if Reason mult not there be lost.



What more than marble muft that heart compofe, Can hearken coldly to my SHARPER'S Vows? Then, when he trembles! when his Blushes rife! When awful Love feems melting in his Eyes! With eager beats his Mechlin Cravat moves : He Loves,-I whifper to myself, He Loves! Such unfeign'd Paffion in his Looks appears, I lofe all Mem❜ry of my former Fears; My panting heart confeffes all his charms, I yield at once, and fink into his arms:



Think of that moment, you who Prudence boaft;
For fuch a moment, Prudence well were loft,


At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play, Some DUKES at Mary-Bone bowl Time away. But who the Bowl, or ratt'ling Dice compares To Baffet's heav'nly Joys, and pleafing Cares?



Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a Beau; PRUDINA likes a Man, and laughs at Show. Their feveral graces in my SHARPER meet; Strong as the Footman, as the Master sweet.




Cease your contention, which has been too long; I grow impatient, and the Tea's too strong. Attend, and yield to what I now decide; The Equipage fhall grace SMILINDA's Side; The Snuff-Box to CARDELIA I decree, Now leave complaining, and begin your Tea.


GAY wrote a Quaker's Eclogue, and Swift a Footman's Eclogue; and faid to Pope, "I think the Paftoral Ridicule is not exhausted; what think you of a Newgate Paftoral, among the whores and thieves there?" When Lady M. W. Montagu would sometimes fhew a copy of her verses to Pope, and he would make fome little alterations, "No," said she," Pope, no touching! for then, whatever is good for any thing will pass for your's, and the reft for mine." WARTON.

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