 | May Fair |  |
61
DEDICATED TO LADY J---Y.
When Venus gave your Ladyship
The red reversion of her lip,
And said, departing for the skies,
“Be magic in its smiles and sighs;”
And to your eye the glances lent,
Blue as her bluest element;
And round you breathed the Je ne scai quoi,
That wins, yet keeps us all in awe;—
I can't but think 'twas her intention,
In giving you this Venus-pension—
This ribbon of the Venus-garter,
To renovate sweet woman's charter—
Teach her to twist us like her glove,
Nay, though our wife, be still our love.
The red reversion of her lip,
And said, departing for the skies,
“Be magic in its smiles and sighs;”
And to your eye the glances lent,
Blue as her bluest element;
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That wins, yet keeps us all in awe;—
I can't but think 'twas her intention,
In giving you this Venus-pension—
This ribbon of the Venus-garter,
To renovate sweet woman's charter—
Teach her to twist us like her glove,
Nay, though our wife, be still our love.
But R*g*rs says, the rub of rubs,
Is Queen of Hearts turned Queen of Clubs?
Is Queen of Hearts turned Queen of Clubs?
Beau Sexe, from soft fifteen to fifty—
No matter with what tongues Heaven gift ye—
Keep to your own delightful tricks,
And leave us port and politics.
When Beauty mounts the party-frown,
I write it—“conscious going down.”
She whispers how the question goes;
My tablets bear it—“Ruby nose.”
She sports a sarcasm on the King:
My tablets—“Cupid's on the wing.”
No matter with what tongues Heaven gift ye—
Keep to your own delightful tricks,
And leave us port and politics.
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I write it—“conscious going down.”
She whispers how the question goes;
My tablets bear it—“Ruby nose.”
She sports a sarcasm on the King:
My tablets—“Cupid's on the wing.”
'Tis Nature takes the loyal part;—
No woman ere was Whig at heart.
There never moved on earth a beauty,
But would have mankind kiss her shoe-tie.
The hideous may die Democrate—
The pretty rebel's sure to rat:
If single, the sweet Radical
Would fling her fetter on us all;
If wedded, ask the lady's spouse,
Who has the right hand of the house.
In soul, all are, or would be, Queens,—
You see I've peep'd behind the scenes.)
No woman ere was Whig at heart.
There never moved on earth a beauty,
But would have mankind kiss her shoe-tie.
The hideous may die Democrate—
The pretty rebel's sure to rat:
If single, the sweet Radical
Would fling her fetter on us all;
If wedded, ask the lady's spouse,
Who has the right hand of the house.
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You see I've peep'd behind the scenes.)
Even thou, by whose provoking tongue
Those dreary Whigs have lived so long;
Thy high-born look, thy polish'd wit,
Proclaim thee all, all hypocrite.
That wit, which from thy stately lip
Comes like a shaft with golden tip;
That look, which, spite of all thy art,
Proclaims thee despot of the heart;—
Nay, not a passing glance of thine
But flashes with the “Right Divine.”
Those dreary Whigs have lived so long;
Thy high-born look, thy polish'd wit,
Proclaim thee all, all hypocrite.
That wit, which from thy stately lip
Comes like a shaft with golden tip;
That look, which, spite of all thy art,
Proclaims thee despot of the heart;—
Nay, not a passing glance of thine
But flashes with the “Right Divine.”
“Oh! woman, in our hours of ease,”
Who canst do any thing—but tease;
Make winter summer, and what not,
You'll find it all set down in Scott;
Canst charm alike the prince and peasant—
Nay, almost make the country pleasant;
Though, there to wind me up to bliss,
Would take a most uncommon Miss.
Who canst do any thing—but tease;
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You'll find it all set down in Scott;
Canst charm alike the prince and peasant—
Nay, almost make the country pleasant;
Though, there to wind me up to bliss,
Would take a most uncommon Miss.
| May Fair | |