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And, rifling ev'ry youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.

The glass, grown hateful to her sight,
Reflected now a perfect fright:
Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her pastes and creams
To smooth her skin, or hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens :
The 'squire himself was seen to yield,
And e'en the captain quit the field.

Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old ;
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;
For tawdry fipery is seen
A person ever neatly clean:

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No more presuming on her sway, She learns good-nature ev'ry day : Serenely gay, and strict in duty, Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.

THE GIFT,

TO

IRIS, IN BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN

SAY, cruel Iris, pretty rake,

Dear mercenary beauty,
What annual off'ring shall I make

Expressive of my duty ?

My heart, a victim to thine eyes,

Should I at once deliver,
Say, would the angry fair one prize

The gift who slights the giver?

A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy,

My rivals give-and let 'em ;
If gems, or gold, impart a joy,

I'll give them--when I get 'em.

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I'll give—but not the full-blown rose,

Or rose-bud more in fashion ; Such short-liv'd off'rings but disclose

A transitory passion.

I'll give thee something yet unpaid,

Not less sincere than civil: I'll give thee-ah! too charming maid,

I'll give thee~to the devil.

THE

LOGICIANS REFUTED.

IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT,

LOGICIANS have but ill defin'd
As rational the human mind;
Reason, they say, belongs to man,
But let them prove it if they can.
Wise Aristotle and Smiglesius,
By ratiocinations specious,
Have strove to prove with great precision,
With definition and division,
Homo est ratione preditum ;
But for

my

soul I cannot credit 'em :
And must in spite of them maintain
That man and all his ways are vain;
And that this boasted lord of nature
Is both a weak and erring creature :
That instinct is a surer guide
Than reason, boasting mortals' pride;

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