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On me he fixt his eyes. I crav'd, ·
Why fo forlorn? he vainly rav'd.
Peace to his mind I did commend:

But, oh! my words were hardly at an end,

When I perceiv'd it was my friend,
My much-lov'd friend; fo down Ifat,
And begg'd that I might fhare his fate:

I laid my cheek to his, when with a gale
Of fighs he eas'd his breast, and thus began his tale :

III.

I am a wretch of honeft race;

My parents not obscure, nor high in titles were,
They left me heir to no difgrace.

My father was (a thing now rare)

Loyal and brave, my mother chaste and fair : The pledge of marriage-vows was only I; Alone I liv'd their much-lov'd fondled boy : They gave me generous education, high

They ftrove to raise my mind, and with it grew their joy. The fages that instructed me in arts,

And knowledge, oft would praise my parts,

And chear my parents longing hearts.

When I was call'd to a difpute,

My fellow-pupils oft stood mute;
Yet never Envy did disjoin

Their hearts from me, nor Pride diftemper mine.
Thus my first years in happiness I past,

Nor any bitter cup did taste :

But, oh! a deadly potion came at last.

}

As

As I lay loosely on my bed,

Athousand pleafant thoughts triumphing in my head,
And as my fenfe on the rich banquet fed,

A voice (it feem'd no more, fo busy I

Was with myself, I faw not who was nigh)

Pierc'd through my ears; Arife, thy good Senander's dead. It fhook my brain, and from their feast my frighted fenfes fled.

IV.

From thence fad difcontent, uneafy fears,
And anxious doubts of what I had to do,
Grew with fucceeding years.

The world was wide, but whither should I go?
I, whose blooming hopes all wither'd were,
Who'd little fortune, and a deal of care?
To Britain's great metropolis I ftray'd,

Where Fortune's general game is play'd;

Where honesty and wit are often prais'd,
But fools and knaves are fortunate and rais'd;
My forward spirit prompted me to find

A converse equal to my mind:

But by raw judgment easily misled,

(As giddy callow boys

Are very fond of toys)

I mifs'd the brave and wife, and in their stead
On every sort of vanity I fed.

Gay coxcombs, cowards, knaves, and prating fools,
Bullies of o'er-grown bulks and little fouls,
Gamefters, half-wits, and spendthrifts (such as think
Mifchievous midnight frolics, bred by drink

Arc

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Are gallantry and wit,

Because to their lewd understandings fit)

Were those wherewith two years at least I spent,
To all their fulfome follies most incorrigibly bent;
Till at the laft, myself more to abuse,
I grew in love with a deceitful Muse.

V.

No fair deceiver ever us'd fuch charms,
T'enfnare a tender youth, and win his heart:
Or, when she had him in her arms,
Secur'd his love with greater art.

I fancy'd, or I dream'd (as poets always do)
No beauty, with my Mufe's might compare.
Lofty fhe feem'd, and on her front fat a majestic air,
Awful, yet kind; fevere, yet fair.

i

Upon her head a crown fhe bore

Of laurel, which she told me fhould be mine :
And round her ivory neck she wore

A rope of largest pearl. Each part of her did shine
With jewels and with gold,

Numberlefs to be told

;

Which in imagination as I did behold,

And lov'd, and wonder'd more and more,

Said fhe, Thefe riches all, my darling, fhall be thine,
Riches which never poet had before.

She promis'd me to raise my fortune and my name,
By royal fovour, and by endless fame;

But never told

How hard they were to get, how difficult to hold.

Thus

Thus by the arts of this moft fly
Deluder was I caught,

To her bewitching bondage brought.

Eternal conftancy we fwore,

A thousand times our vows were doubled o'er :
And as we did in our entrancements lie,

I thought no pleasure e'er was wrought fo high,
No pair so happy as my Muse and I.

VI.

Ne'er was young lover half fo fond
When firft his pufillage he loft,
Or could of half my pleasure boast.
We never met but we enjoy'd,
Still tranfported, never cloy'd.
Chambers, clofets, fields, and groves,
Bore witness of our daily loves;
And on the bark of every tree

You might the marks of our endearments fee.

Diftichs, pofies, and the pointed bits

Of fatire (written when a poet meets

His Mufe's caterwauling fits)

You might on every rhind behold, and fwear
I and my Clio had been at it there.

}

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Nay, by my Mufe too I was bleft
With offsprings of the choiceft kinds,
Such as have pleas'd the noblest minds,

And been approv'd by judgments of the best.
But in this most transporting height,
Whence I look'd down, and laught at fate,

All

All of a fudden I was alter'd grown ;

I round me look'd, and found myself alone;
My faithless Muse, my faihless Muse, was gone :
I try'd if I a verfe could frame :

Oft I in vain invok'd my Clio's name.

The more I ftrove, the more I fail'd I chaf'd, I bit my pen, curft my dull skull, and rail'd, Refolv'd to force m' untoward thought, and at the last prevail'd.

A line came forth, but fuch a one,
No travailing matron in her child-birth pains,
Full of the joyful hopes to bear a fon,
Was more astonish'd at th' unlook'd-for fhape
Of fome deform'd baboon, or ape,

Than I was at the hideous iffue of my brains.

I tore my paper, ftabb'd my pen,
And fwore I'd never write again,

Refolv'd to be a doating fool no more.

But when my reckoning I began to make, I found too long I'd flept, and was too late awake; I found m' ungrateful Muse, for whose false fake I did myself undo,

Had robb'd me of my dearest store, My precious time, my friends, and reputation too; And left me helpless, friendless, very proud, and poor. VII.

Reason, which in base bonds my folly had enthrall'd,
I ftraight to council call'd;

Like fome old faithful friend, whom long ago
I had cashier'd, to please my flattering fair.

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