As mafters in the Clare-obfcure, With various light your eyes allure: A flaming yellow here they spread; Draw off in blue, or charge in red: Yet from these colours odly mix'd, Your fight upon the whole is fix'd. Or as, again, your courtly dames (Whose cloaths returning birth-day claims) By arts improve the stuffs they vary; And things are best as most contrary. The gown with stiff embroid'ry shining, Looks charming with a flighter lining: The out, if Indian figures ftain; The in-fide must be rich and plain. So you, great authors, have thought fit, To make digreffion temper wit: When arguments too fiercely glare,

You calm 'em with a milder air:

To break their points, you turn their force; And Furbelow the plain discourse.

Richard, quoth Mat, these words of thine Speak fomething fly, and fomething fine: But I fhall e'en refume my theme; However thou may'st praise, or blame. As people marry now, and fettle; Fierce love abates his usual mettle: Worldly defires, and household cares Disturb the godhead's foft affairs: So now, as health or temper changes, In larger compass Alma ranges, This day below, the next above; As light or folid whimsies move. So merchant has his house in town, And country feat near Banfted down:

From one he dates his foreign letters, Sends out his goods, and duns his debtors: In t'other, at his hours of leifure,

He fmoaks his pipe, and takes his pleasure. And now your matrimonial Cupid, Lash'd on by time, grows tir'd and stupid. For story and experience tell us,

That man grows cold, and woman jealous.
Both would their little ends fecure:

He fighs for freedom, she for pow'r.
His wishes tend abroad to roam;
And hers, to domineer at home.
Thus paffion flags by flow degrees;
And ruffled more, delighted lefs,
The bufy mind does seldom go
To those once charming seats below:
But, in the breaft incamp'd, prepares
For well-bred feints, and future wars.
The man suspects his lady's crying
(When he last autumn lay a-dying)
Was but to gain him to appoint her
By codicil a larger jointure.

The woman finds it all a trick,

That he could fwoon, when she was fick; And knows, that in that grief he reckon'd On black-ey'd Sufan for his fecond.

Thus having ftrove some tedious years With feign'd defires, and real fears; And tir'd with answers and replies, Of John affirms, and Martha lies; Leaving this endless altercation, The mind affects a higher station. Poltis, that gen'rous king of Thrace, I think, was in this very cafe. VOL. II.

H

All Afia now was by the ears:

And gods beat up for voluntiers

To Greece, and Troy; while Poltis fat
In quiet, governing his ftate.

And whence, faid the pacific king,
Does all his noife, and discord spring?
Why, Paris took Atrides' wife-

With ease I could compose this strife:
The injur'd heroe fhould not lose,
Nor the young lover want a spouse:
But Helen chang'd her first condition,
Without her husband's just permiffion.
What from the dame can Paris hope!
She may as well from him elope.
Again, how can her old good-man
With honour take her back again?
From hence I logically gather

The woman cannot live with either.
Now I have two right honest wives,
For whose possession no man strives :
One to Atrides I will fend,

And t'other to my Trojan friend.

Each prince shall thus with honour have, What both fo warmly feem to crave: The wrath of gods and man fhall cease; And Poltis live and die in peace.

Dick, if this flory pleaseth thee, Pray thank Dan Pope, who told it me.

Howe'er fwift Alma's flight may vary,

(Take this by way of Corollary :)
Some limbs fhe finds the very fame,
In place, and dignity, and name:
Thefe dwell at fuch convenient distance,

That each may give his friend assistance.

Thus he who runs or dances, begs
The equal vigour of two legs;
So much to both does Alma truft,
She ne'er regards, which goes the first.
Teague could make neither of them stay,
When with himself he ran away.
The man who struggles in the fight,
Fatigues left arm as well as right:
For whilft one hand exalts the blow,
And on the earth extends the foe;
T' other would take it wond'rous ill,
If in your pocket he lay ftill.

And when you shoot, and shut one eye,
You cannot think, he would deny
To lend the t'other friendly aid,
Or wink, as coward, and afraid.
No, Sir; whilft he withdraws his flame;
His comrade takes the furer aim.
One moment if his beams recede;
As foon as e'er the bird is dead,
Opening again, he lays his claim
To half the profit, half the fame;
And helps to pocket up the game.
'Tis thus, one tradesman slips away,
To give his part❜ner fairer play.

Some limbs again in bulk or stature
Unlike, and not a-kin by nature,
In concert a&t, like modern friends;
Because one serves the t'other's ends.
The arm thus waits upon the heart,
So quick to take the bully's part;
That one, tho' warm, decides more flow
Than t'other executes the blow.

A ftander-by may chance to have it,
Ere Hack himself perceives, be gave it.

The am'rous eyes thus always go
A-ftrolling for their friends below:
For long before the 'Squire and dame
Have tête à tête reliev'd their flame;
Ere vifits yet are brought about,
The eye by fympathy looks out;
Knows Florimel, and longs to meet her:
And, if he fees, is fure to greet her,
Tho' at fash-window, on the ftairs,
At court, nay (authors fay) at pray'rs.
The funeral of some valiant knight
May give this thing its proper light.
View his two gantlets: these declare
That both his hands were us'd to war.
And from his two gilt fpurs 'tis learn'd,
His feet were equally concern'd.

But have you not with thought beheld
The sword hang dangling o'er the field?
Which shows the breast, that plate was us'd to,.

Had an ally right arm to trust to:
And by the peep-holes in his crest,
Is it not virtually confeft,

That there his eyes took diftant aim,
And glanc'd refpect to that bright dame,
In whose delight his hope was center'd,
And for whofe glove his life he ventur'd?
Objections to my general Syftem
May rife perhaps; and I have mifl them:
But I can call to my affiftance
Proximity (mark that !) and distance:
Can prove, that all things, on occasion,
Love union, and defire adhesion;