From Bath , to some Ladies in L ONDON .

Trust me, Ladies, Disrespect,
Or the least design'd Neglect,
Has not kept your friendly Bard,
(Never wanting in Regard)
All this Time from sending Letter;
O! that I cou'd treat you better!
But my ev'ry Hour's Employ,
Is, in fine, a Press Annoy:
How I wish to break my Chain,
To converse with you again;
But, at present, cannot say
When I shall for Town away:
Soon as Volume takes to Wing,
(Your Visiter, with op'ning Spring)
Then expect, — but not before,
Jingler's rapping at your Door.
Pray inform me of your Rout,
(How you love a Gad-a-bout!)
Why so early leaving Town?
Muse invites you to come down;
Bath , I'm sure, will please you well,
And we want the sprightly Belle:
Let your lovely Sister know,
I myself will ape the Beau;
And with true poetic Air,
Turn Gallant — for two such Fair.
Shou'd you ask, as well you may,
How we live from Day to Day?
Briefly thus — the gen'ral Way .
Rising early, Seven or Eight,
(Much it hurts to lay Town-late ;)
Strait to Pump-Room for the Waters,
Shoals of Husbands, Wives and Daughters,
Hurry, with impatient Thirst,
Down it goes with such a Gust —
Music, too, regales the Ear,
All the while of Water-fare.
Having paus'd a proper Time,
(As Scribblers must in coining Rhime)
In Detachments off they file;
Some an Hour or two beguile,
'Fore their usual Breakfast Date,
Reading, Walking, Chit-chat, Prate.
Then, to whet for Dinner's Treat,
Numbers up the Hills you'll meet:
But, 'bove all, the Ev'ning's Sight,
Subject of extreme Delight,
At the brilliant, crouded Ball,
There collected, see 'em all —

Abruptly your — — my Paper checks;
How cruel this! — my best Respects.