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While the spread fan o'erflades your clofing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vifion flies.
Thus vanish fceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls! 40

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 fprightly eyes, 45 Or fees the blufh of foft Parthenia rife,

Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite, Streets, Chairs, and Coxcombs rufh upon my fight; Vex'd to be still in town, I knit my brow,

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

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HE Baffet-Table spread, the Tallier come;
Why ftays SMILINDA in the Dreffing-


Rife, pensive Nymph, the Tallier waits for



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


I saw him ftand behind OMBRELIA's Chair,
And whisper with that foft, deluding air,
And those feign'd fighs which cheat the list'ning


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 happy circumftance, that the one is in love with the Game, and the Other with the Sharper.


Is this the cause of
your Romantic ftrains?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains.
As You by Love, fo I by Fortune cross't;
One, one bad Deal, Three Septlevas have loft.



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.


A Lover loft, is but a common care;

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

This fatal stroke, this unforeseen Distress? 20


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; Impartial, fhe fhall fay who fuffers most,

By Cards' Ill Ufage, or by Lovers loft.



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


Behold this Equipage, by Mathers wrought, With FiftyGuineas (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 shines the Queen's bright Face; A Myrtle Foliage round the Thimble-Case. Jove, Jove himself, does on the Scizars fhine; 35 The Metal, and the Workmanship, divine!


This Snuff-Box,-once the pledge of SHARP-
ER's love,

When rival beauties for the Prefent ftrove;

At Corticelli's he the Raffle won;

Then firft his Paffion was in public shown: 40 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 shine: 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 wish was for the Knave. 50 The Knave won Sonica, which I had chofe;

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 OMERELIA, this undoing Fair, 55
By whofe vile arts this heavy grief I bear;

She, at whose name I shed these spiteful tears,
She owes to me the very charms fhe wears.
An aukward Thing, when first she came to Town;
Her Shape unfashion'd, and her Face unknown: 60
She was my friend; I taught her first to spread
Upon her fallow cheeks enliv'ning red:
I introduc'd her to the Park and Plays;
And by my int'reft, Cozens made her Stays,


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