Classic Poem

Well! the Play's over, — and the author's waiting,
To hear his cause supported, by my prating ;
But, he mistakes the favour I intend him; —
Have at him — I shall courtier like , defend him.
Oh! 'tis provoking , how these poets wrong us,
When, with imaginary loves , they throng us,
Like girls , they give us trinkets , to look gay with ,
Which, when night comes, we have no right, to play with ,
Strange doctors , these! our appetites they quicken ,
And, then, remove the feast , for fear we sicken .
To think of only one , when twenty love us!
Can flesh and blood bear that? — no — that's above us.
We'd make a shift , with one — did but one proffer.
If we try ten — the fault is theirs , who offer .
Weak woman , push'd, and press'd, now here, now there,
Falls, not , by choice — but want of strength , to bear .

S URROUNDED , as I was, by slaves , to night,
Troth, I e'en thought, to take all five — was right:
Since I'd enough for all — what harm, to barter ,
And deal with each , for his own, separate quarter?
Worthy possess'd my will — my L ORD my eye ,
G RINLY my spleen — my scorn S IR L UBBERLY .
C HIP had my laughter ; — every Man his part,
And room for forty more , in woman's heart,

As, when some City-Worthy mounts Lord-Mayor ,
Mere dignity requires, that folks shou'd stare ,
Rob'd, he looks big — and rides the streets, in state ,
While, in long order , his puff'd nothings wait:
So, when a toast assumes her envied reign,
A length of coxcombs ought to grace her train:
Dear Nizies! never heed , what's said, about ye,
Woman, is woman — and can't live without ye.
Fools are the froth of life — they give no merit ,
Yet brisk it, like champaign , with sparkling spirit .

Britain the Q UEEN of nations! lets us see,
What the world's offerings should to beauty , be:
Bright, and unrivall'd , midst the sea , she stands,
Attracting tribute , from remotest lands.
From Afric, Gold — from India, gems she draws,
Yet, mix'd with these , come — Parrots, — Apes, — Maccaws ,
Civet and assa faetida , unite,
And all, that shocks or charms — taste, touch , and sight .
From these , she chuses all, she wants — the rest
She leaves, for poorer states , who like 'em, best .

So, gay coquets shou'd man's whole homage claim;
Wits, fools, beaux, slovens — every rank , and name ;
All, should adore, divert, — attempt — and please ,
Encrease her buliness — and adorn her ease .
Yet, among all, she keeps but what's most taking ;
And spares the rest, for prudes — whose hearts are breaking .