Monday: Roxana, or, the Drawing-room

Roxana Or the Drawing-room

Roxana from the Court returning late
Sigh'd her soft sorrows at St James's Gate;
Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her Breast
Not her own Chairmen with more weight oppress'd;
They groan the cruel load they're doom'd to bear,
She, in these gentler Sounds, express'd her Care.
 Was it for this, that I these Roses wear,
For this, new set my Jewells for my Hair?
Ah Princesse, with what Zeal have I persu'd!
Almost forgot the Dutys of a Prude,
Thinking I never could attend too soon,
I've miss'd my Prayers to get dress'd by noon.
For thee, Ah what for Thee did I resign!
My Pleasures, Passions, all that e're was mine.
I sacrificed both modesty and ease,
Left Operas, and run to filthy Plays;
Double Entendres shock'd my tender Ear,
Yet even this for thee I chose to bear.
In glowing Youth when Nature bids, be Gay,
And ev'ry Joy of Life before me lay,
By Honor prompted, and by Pride restrain'd,
The Pleasures of the Young my Soul disdain'd,
Sermons I sought, and with a mein severe
Censured my Neighbours, and said daily Pray'r.
Alas how chang'd! With the same sermon meen
That once I pray'd, the What d'ee callt I've seen.
Ah cruel Princesse! for thy sake I've lost
That Reputation which so dear had cost.
I, who avoided every Public place
When Bloom, and Beauty bid me shew my Face,
Now near thee constant ev'ry Night abide
With never failing Duty by thy side:
My selfe and Daughters standing on a row
To all the foreigners a goodly Show!
Oft had your drawing room been sadly thin
And Merchants' Wives close by the Chair had been,
Had not I amply fill'd the empty Space
And sav'd your Highness from the dire Disgrace.
Yet Coquettilla's Artifice prevails
When all my Merit and my Duty fails,
That Coquettilla, whose deluding airs
Corrupts our Virgins, and our Youth ensnares:
So sunk her Character, so lost her Fame,
Scarce visited before your Highness came,
Yet for the Bed chamber, 'tis her you chuse,
When Zeal, and fame, and virtue you refuse.
Ah worthy Choice! not one of all your Train
Whom Censure blasts not, or Dishonors stain.
Let the Nice Hind now suckle dirty Pigs
And the Proud Peahen hatch the Cuckow's Eggs,
Let Iris leave her Paint, and own her Age,
And Grave Suffolkia wed a giddy Page,
A great[er] Miracle is daily veiw'd,
A vertuous Princesse with a Court so lewd.
I know thee, Court! with all thy treacherous wiles,
Thy false Carreses and undoing smiles!
Ah Princesse! learn'd in all the courtly Arts,
To cheat our Hopes, and yet to gain our Hearts!
 Large lovely Bribes are the great Statesman's Aim
And the neglected Patriot follows Fame,
The Prince is ogle'd , some the King persue,
But your Roxana only follows you.
 Despis'd Roxana, cease, and try to find
Some other, since the Princesse proves unkind,
Perhaps it is not hard to find at Court,
Thô not a greater, a more firm support.
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