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Progress of POETRY.
Written in the Year 1720.
HE Farmer's Goose, who in the Stubble,
Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble;
o'er the Barn-Door Sill;
But when the must be turn'd to graze,
While all the Parish, as the flies,
Such is the Poet, fresh in Pay, (The third Night's Profits of his Play ;) His Morning-Draughts 'till Noon can swill, Among his Brethren of the Quill: With good roast Beef his Belly full
, Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull: Deep sunk in Plenty, and Delight, What Poet e'er could take his Flight? Or stuff’d with Phlegm up to the Throat, What Poet e’er could sing a Note? Nor Pegasus could bear the Load, Along the high celestial Road; The Steed, oppress’d, would break his Girth, To raise the Lumber from the Earth.
But, view him in another Scene,
With hungry Meals his Body pin'd,
he rises like a Vapour,
Τ Η Ε
Progress of BEAUTY
Written in the YEAR 1720.
HÉN first Diana leaves her Bed,
Vapours and Steams her Looks disgrace, A frowzy dirty-colour'd Red Sits on her cloudy wrinkled Face; K 2
Buc, But, by Degrees, when mounted high,
Her artificial Face appears
Her Spots are gone, her Visage clears.
"Twixt earthly Females and the Moon,
All Parallels exa&ly run;
Alas, the Nymph would be undone!
To see her from her Pillow rise,
All reeking in a cloudy Steam; Crack'd Lips, foul Teeth, and
Poor Strephon, how would he blaspheme !
Three Colours, Black, and Red, and White,
So graceful in their proper Place, Remove them to a different Light,
They form a frightful hideous Face.
For Instance, when the Lilly skips
Into the Precincts of the Rose, And takes Poffeffion of the Lips,
Leaving the Purple to the Nose.
So, So, Celia went entire to Bed,
All her Complexions safe and found; But, when she rose, White, Black, and Red, .;
Tho' still in sight, had changʻd their Ground.
The Black, which would not be confin’d,
A more inferior Station seeks, Leaving the fiery Red behind,
And mingles in her muddy Cheeks.
But Celia can with Ease reduce,
By Help of Pencil, Paint, and Brush, Each Colour to its Place and Use,
And teach her Cheeks again to blush,
She knows her early self no more;
But filld with Admiration stands, As other Painters oft adore
The Workmanship of their own Hands.
Thus, after four important Hours,
Celia's the Wonder of her Sex:
Could cause such marvellous Effects?