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Instead of homespun coifs, were seen
Good pinners edged with colberteen ;
Her petticoat, transform'd apace,
Became black satin flounced with lace.
Plain Goody would no longer down;
'Twas Madam, in her grogram gown.
Philemon was in great surprise,
And hardly could believe his eyes,
Amazed to see her look so prim;
And she admired as much at him.
Thus happy in their change of life
Were several years this man and wife;
When on a day, which proved their last,
Discoursing o'er old stories past,

They went by chance, amidst their talk,
To the churchyard to take a walk;
When Baucis hastily cried out,

"My dear, I see your forehead sprout!" "Sprout!" quoth the man; "what's this you

tell us?

I hope you don't believe me jealous!
But yet, methinks, I feel it true;
And really yours is budding too-
Nay,-now I cannot stir my foot;
It feels as if 'twere taking root."
Description would but tire my Muse;
In short, they both were turn'd to yews.
Old Goodman Dobson of the green
Remembers, he the trees has seen;
He'll talk of them from noon till night,
And goes with folks to show the sight:
On Sundays, after evening prayer,
He gathers all the parish there;

Points out the place of either yew;
Here Baucis, there Philemon grew:
Till once a parson of our town,
To mend his barn, cut Baucis down :
At which 'tis hard to be believed
How much the other tree was grieved,
Grew scrubbed, died a-top, was stunted;
So the next parson stubb'd and burnt it.

MORNING.

Now hardly here and there an hackney coach
Appearing, show'd the ruddy Morn's approach.
Now Betty from her master's bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her own;
The slipshod 'prentice from his master's door
Had pared the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dexterous
airs,

Prepared to scrub the entry and the stairs.

The youth with broomy stumps began to trace The kennel's edge, where wheels had worn the

place.

The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep, Till drown'd in shriller notes of chimney-sweep. Duns at his lordship's gate began to meet;

And brickdust Moll had scream'd through half the street.

The turnkey now his flock returning sees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees :

The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands,
And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.

ALEXANDER POPE.

BORN 1688-DIED 1744,

THE TOILET.

FROM THE RAPE OF THE LOCK.

AND now, unveil'd, the toilet stands display'd,
Each silver vase in mystic order laid.

First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores,
With head uncover'd, the cosmetic powers.
A heavenly image in the glass appears,
To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears;
Th' inferior priestess, at her altar side,
Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride.
Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here
The various offerings of the world appear;
From each she nicely culls with curious toil,
And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil,
This casket India's glowing gems unlocks,
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
The tortoise here and elephant unite,

Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white.
Here files of pins extend their shining rows,
Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux.
Now awful beauty puts on all its arms;
The fair each moment rises in her charms,
Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace,
And calls forth all the wonders of her face:
Sees by degrees a purer blush arise,
And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes.

N

The busy sylphs surround their darling care; These set the head, and those divide the hair; Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown; And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own.

OMENS.

FROM THE SAME.

THIS day, black omens threat the brightest fair
That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care;
Some dire disaster, or by force, or sleight;
But what, or where, the fates have wrapp'd in
night.

Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law,
Or some frail china-jar receive a flaw;

Or stain her honour, or her new brocade;
Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;
Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball;

Or whether Heav'n has deem'd that Shock must fall.

Haste then, ye spirits! to your charge repair:
The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care;
The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign;
And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine:
Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite Lock;
Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.

To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,
We trust th' important charge, the petticoat:
Oft have we known that seven-fold fence to fail,
Though stiff with hoops, and arm'd with ribs of
whale,

Form a strong line about the silver bound,

And guard the wide circumference around.

Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large, Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins, Be stopp'd in vials, or transfix'd with pins; Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie, Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin's eye: Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain, While clogg'd he beats his silken wings in vain; Or alum styptics, with contracting power, Shrink his thin essence like a shrivell'd flower: Or, as Ixion fix'd, the wretch shall feel The giddy motion of the whirling mill, In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow, And tremble at the sea that froths below!

He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend: Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend; Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair ; Some hang upon the pendants of her ear; With beating hearts the dire event they wait, Anxious and trembling for the birth of fate.

DESCRIPTION OF OMBRE.

FROM THE SAME.

BEHOLD, four Kings in majesty revered,
With hoary whiskers and a forky beard;
And four fair Queens, whose hands sustain a
flower,

Th' expressive emblem of their softer power:
Four Knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band;
Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand;
And party-colour'd troops, a shining train,
Drawn forth to combat on the velvet plain.

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