WHOE'ER for pleasure plans a scheme,
Will find it vanish like a dream,
Affording nothing found or real,
Where happiness is all ideal;
In grief, in joy, or either state,
Fancy will always antedate,
And when the thoughts on evil pore,
Anticipation makes it more.
Thus while the mind the future fees,
It cancels all its prefent ease.
Is Pleasure's scheme the point in view; How eagerly we all pursue !
Well-Tuesday is th'appointed day;
How flowly wears the time away!
How dull the interval between,
How darken'd o'er with clouds of spleen,
Did not the mind unlock her treasure,
And fancy feed on promis'd pleasure.
DELIA furveys, with curious eyes,
The clouds collected in the fkies;
D 2
Wishes no ftorm may rend the air,
And Tuesday may be dry and fair;
And I look round, my boys, and pray,
That Tuesday may be holiday.
Things duly fettled-what remains?
Lo! Tuesday comes-alas! it rains;
And all our visionary schemes
Have died away, like golden dreams.
Once on a time, a ruftic dame,
(No matter for the lady's name)
Wrapt up in deep imagination,
Indulg'd her pleasing contemplation;
While on a bench fhe took her feat,
And plac'd the milk-pail at her feet,
Oft in her hand fhe chink'd the pence,
The profits which arose from thence;
While fond ideas fill'd her brain,
Of layings up, and monstrous gain,
Till every penny which she told,
Creative fancy turn'd to gold;
And reasoning thus from computation,
She spoke aloud her meditation.
"Please heav'n but to preserve my health, "No doubt I fhall have ftore of wealth;
"It muft of confequence enfue
"I fhall have ftore of lovers too.
"Oh! how I'll break their ftubborn hearts,
"With all the pride of female arts.
"What Suitors then will kneel before me!
"Lords, Earls, and Viscounts fhall adore me,
"When in my gilded coach I ride,
"My Lady at his Lordship's fide,
"How will I laugh at all I meet
"Clatt'ring in pattins down the street!
"And LOBBIN then I'll mind no more,
"Howe'er I lov'd him heretofore;
"Or, if he talks of plighted truth,
"I will not hear the fimple youth,
"But rife indignant from my feat,
"And fpurn the lubber from my feet.
Action, alas! the fpeaker's grace,
Ne'er came in more improper place,
For in the toffing forth her fhoe,
What fancied blifs the maid o'erthrew !
While down at once, with hideous fall,
Came lovers, wealth, and milk, and all,
Thus fancy ever loves to roam,
To bring the gay materials home;
Imagination forms the dream,
And accident destroys the scheme.
FROM THE REV. MR. HANBURY'S HORSE, TO THE REV. MR. SCOT.
AMONGST you bipeds, reputation
Depends on Rank and Situation;
And men increase in fame and worth,
Not from their merits, but their Birth.
Thus he is born to live obfcure,
Who has the fin of being poor;
While wealthy dullness lolls at eafe,
And is—as witty as you please.
-“ What did his Lordship say?—O! fine!
"The very Thing! Bravo! Divine !"
And then 'tis buzz'd from Route to Route,
While ladies whisper it about,
"Well, I proteft, a charming hit!
"His Lerdfhip has a deal of wit.
"How elegant that double sense!
"Perdigious! vaiftly fine! Immenfe!
When all my lord has faid or done,
Was but the letting off a pun.
Mark the fat Cit, whofe good round sum,
Amounts at least to half a Plumb;
Whose chariot whirls him up and down
Some three or four miles out of town;
For thither fober folks repair,
To take the Duft, which they call air.
Dull folly (not the wanton wild
Imagination's younger child)
Has taken lodgings in his face,
As finding that a vacant place,
And peeping from his windows, tells
To all beholders, where fhe dwells.
Yet once a week, this purfe-proud cit,
Shall ape the fallies of a wit,
And after ev'ry Sunday's dinner,
To prieftly faint, or city finner,
Shall tell the story o'er and o'er,
H'as told a thoufand times before;
Like gamefters, who, with eager zeal,
Talk the game o'er between the deal.
Mark! how the fools and knaves admire
And chuckle with their Sunday 'squire :
While he looks pleas'd at every guest,
And laughs much louder than the rest;
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