The shining robes, rich jewels, beds of state,
And, to complete her bliss, a fool for mate.
She glares in balls, front boxes, and the ring,
A vain, unquiet, glittering, wretched thing!
Pride, pomp, and state but reach her outward part:
She sighs, and is no duchess at her heart.

56

60

But, madam, if the fates withstand, and you Are destined Hymen's willing victim too; Trust not too much your now resistless charms: Those age or sickness, soon or late, disarms: Good-humor only teaches charms to last, Still makes new conquests, and maintains the past: Love, raised on beauty, will like that decay : Our hearts may bear its slender chain a day; As flowery bands in wantonness are worn, A morning's pleasure, and at evening torn: This binds in ties more easy, yet more strong, The willing heart, and only holds it long.

65

Thus Voiture's early care still shone the same, And Monthausier was only changed in name : 70 By this, ev'n now they live, ev'n now they charm, Their wit still sparkling, and their flames still

warm.

Now crown'd with myrtle, on the Elysian coast, Amid those lovers, joys his gentle ghost: Pleased, while with smiles his happy lines you view,

And finds a fairer Rambouillet in you.

75

The brightest eyes of France inspired his Muse;
The brightest eyes of Britain now peruse;
And dead, as living, 'tis our author's pride
Still to charm those who charm the world beside.

69 Thus Voiture's early care. Mademoiselle Paulet.

POPE.

IV.

E

79

EPISTLE

TO MRS. TERESA BLOUNT.*

5

As some fond virgin, whom her mother's care
Drags from the town to wholesome country air,
Just when she learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;
From the dear man unwilling she must sever,
Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever:
Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew,
Saw others happy, and with sighs withdrew;
Not that their pleasures caused her discontent; 9
She sigh'd not that they stay'd, but that she went.
She went, to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion'd halls, dull aunts, and croaking
rooks;

She went from opera, park, assembly, play,
To morning-walks, and prayers three hours a day;
To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea;

Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell stories to the squire;
Up to her godly garret after seven ;

15

20

There starve and pray, for that's the way to

heaven.

* On her leaving town after the coronation of George I. in 1715.

Some squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack; Whose game is whisk, whose treat a toast in sack; Who visits with a gun, presents you birds,

25

Then gives a smacking buss, and cries,- No

words!'

Or with his hound comes hallooing from the stable;

Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a

table;

Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are

coarse;

And loves you best of all things-but his horse.

In some fair evening, on your elbow laid,
You dream of triumphs in the rural shade;
In pensive thought recall the fancied scene;
See coronations rise on every green :
Before you pass the imaginary sights

31

35

Of lords, and earls, and dukes, and garter'd knights,

While the spread fan o'ershades your closing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls,

And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls. 40
So when your slave, at some dear idle time,
Not plagued with head-aches, or the want of
rhyme,

Stands in the streets, abstracted from the crew,
And while he seems to study, thinks of you;
Just when his fancy points your sprightly eyes,
Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rise,
Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite;
Streets, chairs, and coxcombs rush upon my sight:
Vex'd to be still in town, I knit my brow;

46

Look sour, and hum a tune, as you may now. 50

THE Basset-table spread, the Tallier come;
Why stays Smilinda in the dressing-room?
Rise, pensive nymph; the Tallier waits for you.

SMILINDA.

Ah, madam, since my Sharper is untrue, I joyless make my once adored Alpeu. I saw him stand behind Ombrelia's chair, And whisper with that soft, deluding air, And those feign'd sighs, which cheat the listening fair.

CARDELIA.

Is this the cause of your romantic strains?
A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains.
As you by love, so I by fortune cross'd;
One, one bad deal, three septlevas have lost.

10

* Pope's claims to this poem are not perfectly clear. He and Lady Wortley Montague wrote six Town Eclogues,' of which four were by her ladyship; but which four, is the difficulty.

SMILINDA.

Is that the grief which you compare with mine? With ease the smiles of fortune I resign:

Would all my gold in one bad deal were gone; Were lovely Sharper mine, and mine alone.

CARDELIA.

A lover lost is but a common care;

16

And prudent nymphs against that change pre

pare:

The knave of clubs thrice lost! O! who could

guess

This fatal stroke, this unforeseen distress? 20

SMILINDA.

See Betty Lovet! very à-propos :

She all the cares of love and play does know :
Dear Betty shall the important point decide;
Betty, who oft the pain of each has tried:
Impartial, she shall say who suffers most,
By cards' ill usage, or by lovers lost.

LOVET.

Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I stay, Though time is precious, and I want some tea.

CARDELIA.

25

Behold this equipage, by Mathers wrought, With fifty guineas (a great pen'worth) bought. 30 See, on the toothpick, Mars and Cupid strive; And both the struggling figures seem alive. Upon the bottom shines the queen's bright face; A myrtle foliage round the thimble-case.