Her presence banish'd all his peace. So with decorum all things carried; Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was-married. Need we expose to vulgar sight The raptures of the bridal night? The honeymoon like lightning flew, VARIATIONS. b Our alter'd parson now began c visage 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, But when at home, at board or bed, In short, by night 'twas fits or fretting; Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke A sigh in suffocating smoke; e While all their hours were pass'd' between Insulting repartee or spleen. VARIATIONS. d Now tawdry madam kept a bevy. Thus as her faults each day were known,s Or thins her lip, or points her nose How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes! Her face is grown a knowing phiz; Now, to perplex the ravell'd noose, 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. VARIATIONS. Each day the more her faults were known. h Thus. In vain she tries her paste1 and creams, To smooth her skin, or hide its seams; Her country beaux and city cousins, Lovers no more, flew off by dozens; The 'squire himself was seen to yield, And e'en the captain quit the field. Poor madam now condemn'd to hack For tawdry finery is seen A NEW SIMILE.1 IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT. LONG had I sought in vain to find A likeness for the scribbling kind; The modern scribbling kind, who write In wit, and sense, and nature's spite: Till reading, I forget what day on, A chapter out of Tooke's Pantheon, I think I met with something there To suit my purpose to a hair. But let us not proceed too furious, First please to turn to god Mercurius: You'll find him pictur'd at full length In book the second, page the tenth: The stress of all my proofs on him I lay, And now proceed we to our simile. Imprimis, pray observe his hat, Wings upon either side, mark that. Well! what is it from thence we gather? Why, these denote a brain of feather. 1 Printed among the Essays (the xxvii.) VARIATIONS. a I long had rack'd my brains to find. |