In our fantastic climes, the fair
With cleanly powder dry their hair :
And round their lovely breast and head
Fresh flowers their mingled odours fhed.
Your nicer Hottentots think meet
With guts and tripe to deck their feet :
With down-caft looks on Totta's legs,
The ogling youth most humbly begs,
She would not from his hopes remove
At once his breakfast and his love:
And, if the skittish nymph should fly,
He in a double fenfe muft die.
We fimple toafters take delight
To see our womens teeth look white.
And every faucy ill-bred fellow
Sneers at a mouth profoundly yellow.
In China none hold women sweet,
Except their fnaggs are black as jett.
King Chihu put nine queens to death,
Convict on statute, Ivory Teeth.
At Tonquin, if a prince fhould die
(As Jefuits write, who never lye),
The wife, and counsellor, and priest,
Who ferv'd him moft, and lov'd him beft,
Prepare and light his funeral fire,
And chearful on the pile expire.
In Europe 't would be hard to find,
In each degree, one half fo kind.
Now turn we to the fartheft eaft,
Prince Giolo, and his royal fifters,
Scarr'd with ten thousand comely blifters;
The marks remaining on the fkin,
To tell the quality within.
Distinguish'd flashes deck the
great:
As each excels in birth or ftate,
His oylet-holes are more and ampler:
The king's own body was a famplar.
Happy the climate, where the beau
Wears the fame fuit for ufe and fhow:
And at a small expence your wife,
If once well pink'd, is cloath'd for life.
Weftward again, the Indian fair
Is nicely fear'd with fat of bear:
Before you fee, you fmell your toaft;
And sweetest the who ftinks the moft..
The fineft fparks and cleaneft beaux
Drip from the fhoulders to the toes :
How fleek their skins! their joints how eafy!
There flovens only are not greafy.
I mention'd different ways of breeding:
Begin we in our childrens reading.
To mafter John the English maid
A horn-book gives of ginger-bread;
And, that the child may learn the better,
As he can name, he eats the letter.
Proceeding thus with vaft delight,
He fpells, and gnaws, from left to right.
But, fhew a Hebrew's hopeful fon
Where we fuppofe the book begun,
The child would thank you for your kindness,
And read quite backward from our finis.
Devour he learning ne'er so fast,
Great A would be referv'd the laft.
An equal instance of this matter
Is in the manners of a daughter.
In Europe, if a harmless maid,
By Nature and by Love betray'd,
Should, ere a wife, become a nurse,
Her friends would look on her the worse.
In China, Dampier's Travels tell ye
(Look in his Index for Pagelli),
Soon as the British ships unmoor,
And jolly long-boat rows to fhore;
Down come the nobles of the land:
Each brings his daughter in his hand,
Befeeching the imperious tar
To make her but one hour his care.
The tender mother ftands affrighted,
Left her dear daughter fhould be flighted:
And poor mifs Yaya dreads the shame
Of going back the maid the came.
Obferve how cuftom, Dick, compels
The lady that in Europe dwells :
After her tea, fhe flips away;
And what to do, one need not fay.
Now fee how great Pomonque's queen
Behav'd herself amongst the men :
Pleas'd with her punch, the gallant foul
Firft drank, then water'd in the bowl;
VOL. II.
To close this point, we need not roam
For inftances fo far from home.
What parts gay France from fober Spain ?
A little rifing rocky chain.
Of men born fouth or north o' th' hill,
Thofe feldom move; these ne'er ftand ftill.
Dick, you love maps, and may perceive
Rome not far diftant from Geneve.
If the good Pope remains at home,
He's the first prince in Christendom.
Choose then, good Pope, at home to stay;
Nor weftward curious take thy way:
Thy way unhappy should'st thou take
From Tyber's bank to Leman lake;
Thou art an aged priest no more,
But a young flaring painted whore;
Thy fex is loft: thy town is gone,
A heretic, or true believer,
On this, or t' other fide a river.
Here, with an artful smile, quoth Dick, Your proofs come mighty full and thick
The bard, on this extenfive chapter
Wound up into poetic rapture,
Continued: Richard, caft your eye
By night upon a winter-sky :
Caft it by day-light on the strand,
Which compaffes fair Albion's land:
If you can count the ftars that glow
Above, or fands that lie below;
Into thofe common-places look,
Which from great authors I have took i
And count the proofs I have collected,
To have my writings well protected.
These I lay-by for time of need ;
And thou may'st at thy leisure read.
For, ftanding every critic's rage,
I fafely will to future
My fyftem, as a gift, bequeath,
Victorious over spight and death.
RICHARD, who now was half asleep,
Rous'd; nor would longer filence keep:
And fenfe like this, in vocal breath,
Broke from his two-fold hedge of teeth.
Now, if this phrase too harsh be thought;
Pope, tell the world, 'tis not my
Old Homer taught us thus to fpeak;
If 'tis not fenfe, at leaft 'tis Greek.
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