Till death scarce felt his gentle breath fuppreft,
As fmiling infants fport themselves to rest:
Ev'n rival wits did Voiture's fate deplore,
And the gay mourn'd who never mourn'd before;
The trueft hearts for Voiture heav'd with fighs,
Voiture was wept by all the brightest eyes;
The Smiles and Loves had dy'd in Voiture's death,
But that for ever in his lines they breath.
Let the strict life of graver mortals be
A long, exact, and ferious comedy,

In ev'ry scene some moral let it teach,
And, if it can, at once both please and preach:
Let mine, like Voiture's, a gay farce appear,
And more diverting ftill than regular,
Have humour, wit, a native ease and grace;
No matter for the rules of time and place.
Criticks in wit, or life, are hard to please,
Few write to thofe, and none can live to thefe.

Too much your Sex is by their forms confin'd,
Severe to all, but most to womankind;
Custom, grown blind with age, must be your guide;
Your pleasure is a vice, but not your pride;

By nature yielding, stubborn but for fame;
Made flaves by honour, and made fools by fhame.
Marriage may all thofe petty tyrants chase,
But fets up one, a greater, in their place;
Well might you wish for change, by those accurst,
But the last tyrant ever proves the worst.
Still in constraint your fuff'ring fex remains,
Or bound in formal, or in real chains;
Whole years neglected for fome months ador'd,
The fawning fervant turns a haughty Lord;
Ah quit not the free innocence of life,
For the dull glory of a virtuous wife!
Nor let falfe fhows, or empty titles please;
Aim not at joy, but reft content with ease.

The Gods, to curfe Pamela with her pray'rs,
Gave the gilt coach and dappled Flanders mares,
The fhining robes, rich jewels, beds of state,
And, to compleat her blifs, a fool for mate.
She glares in balls, front-boxes, and the ring,
A vain, unquiet, glitt'ring, wretched thing!
Pride, pomp, and state but reach her outward part,
She fighs, and is no Dutchefs at her heart.

But, Madam, if the fates withftand, and you Are deftin'd Hymen's willing victim too, Trust not too much your now refiftlefs charms, Thofe, age or fickness, foon or late, difarms; Good humour only teaches charms to last, Still makes new conquefts, and maintains the past: Love, rais'd on beauty, will like that decay, Our hearts may bear its flender chain a day, As flow'ry bands in wantonnefs are worn; A morning's pleasure, and at evening torn: This binds in ties more eafy, yet more strong, The willing heart, and only holds it long. Thus* Voiture's early care still fhone the fame, And Monthaufier was only chang'd in name; By this, ev❜n now they live, ev'n now they charm, Their wit still sparkling, and their flames still warm.

Now crown'd with myrtle, on th'Elysian coaft, Amidst thofe lovers, joys his gentle ghost: Pleas'd, while with fmiles his happy lines you view, And finds a fairer Rambouillet in you.

* Madamoiselle Paulet.

The

The brightest eyes of France infpir'd his Muse,
The brightest eyes of Britain now peruse,
And dead as living, 'tis our author's pride,
Still to charm thofe who charm the world befide.

Το

To the fame,

On her leaving the Town after the Coronation.

A

S fome fond virgin, whom her mother's care

Drags from the town to wholfom country air, Juft when the learns to roll a melting eye, And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh; From the dear man unwilling fhe muft fever, Yet takes one kifs before the parts for ever. Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew, Saw others happy, and with fighs withdrew; Not that their pleasures caus'd her discontent, She figh❜d not that They stay'd, but that She went.

She went, to plain-work and to purling brooks, Old-fashion'd halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks, She went from Op'ra, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and pray'rs three hours a day;