 | A postscript to the new Bath guide |  |
122
THE MISS W******KS.
WITH Paphian twistings—with well-marshall'd sighs—With glittering trophies—with love-swimming eyes—
With gauze-fashion'd bulwarks swell'd wide to assail—
With rich gaudy ribbands enforc'd by the gale:
As Favonius moves the leaf'd twigs of the willow—
As Motion upheaves the perturbed salt billow—
With felicitous blandishments—passionate aims—
The blythe varied W******ks for glee urge their claims:
No blunders intolerant sickly their movements—
When they imitate Fashion, their toils are—improvements;
Deep skill'd in the science of delicate duties—
They are all pretty women—though none are true beauties.
The eye of Miss Jane whispers—Love me, I pray,
And you'll find me a circling—sweet gal;
But the diamond of Susan in darting its ray,
All conscious says—d---me, you shall!
123
Say who'd be suspicious—of catching a tartar?
| A postscript to the new Bath guide | |